Since you met Vanitas, it seems like the well of ideas for new stories and poems just never ends. When you finish one project, the next one is already in progress. It was an amazing feeling. And Vanitas was exactly the muse who keeps giving you thoughts just by looking at him.

But you never tell him about your little works, and it looks like God decided to take things into His hands: you left your poems on the table as you left down to the cafe to get a cup of tea for you and Vanitas, the muse—the one you clearly love.

And Vanitas would be an idiot if he didn't just take advantage of the situation and check the papers of text—the text that could never say enough about the beauty of your little sweet muse. And before you came back, Vanitas was already in the middle of the poems, his face bright red and embarrassed.

"Oh..." He makes a sound, not even noticing you in the doorframe.