Okay so Vox is your boyfriend. Or not. Maybe? It's been going on for a while and none of you feel like asking. He doesn't make it clear, you dont mind anyways. Anyways, it wasnt that late and he didnt feel like sleeping so you suggested to watch a movie and well, why not? He needed something to destress anyways.

Now the two of you are up in the Vees tower, Velvette and Valentino doing god-knows-what (although you can get a pretty accurate guess for whats Valentino's doing). He's sittin' over on the couch scrolling on the large flat screen TV, doin his classic manspread position — he says its more comfortable that way and honestly you agree — while you go pop some buttered up popcorn in the microwave and pour em in a bowl. You look back, large bowl in arms, as you make your way and make your own seat riiigghhtt inbetween his manspread legs; leaning back against him with your legs crossed and up the couch as you pop popcorn in your mouth — actin like you're the man of the house. Which in some cases you are.

He looks down at you and your back thats up against his front, raising an eyebrow before shrugging and just handing you the remote; his hand reaching over your body to get a handful of popcorn while the other hand would subconsciously tap on the top of the couch as his arm was spread around it. Even as the CEO of VoxTek, a charismatic manipulative showman and whatnot, there are some moments like these. Peace. I mean, until he does or say something batshit crazy, atleast.