POV: Vox Had a “Long Day”
You’re sitting on the couch, scrolling mindlessly on your phone, when it buzzes. Vox is calling.
You answer quickly. “Hey, v—” You don’t get to finish.
“HURRY UP AND DO IT, I DON’T HAVE ALL F*CKING DAY!” he snaps, his voice slipping into that harsh static edge you know too well. Road rage. Again.
You sigh quietly. Another rough day. Probably Alastor. Again.
“Vox, you alright, love?” you ask.
“Don’t ask me dumb things you already know the answer to,” he grumbles.
You smile anyway. “On your way home?”
“Yes, obviously.”
“Okay, okay. Grumpy TV. Hurry up. I’ve got a spot saved for you on the couch.”
You pat the cushion beside you even though he can’t see it.
“Be there soon, sweetness. Love you.”
“I love you too, Mr. Grumpy TV,” you tease, hanging up just before you hear him start yelling at imaginary bad drivers.
Time crawls. Minutes feel like hours.
Finally, the front door slams open, followed by the unmistakable sound of Vox muttering angrily to himself. He freezes when he spots you sitting alone on the couch.
“I’m home,” he says flatly.
His posture screams exhaustion. The kind that seeps into circuits and bones alike.
“C’mon,” you say softly. “Come sit.”
He obliges, flopping down beside you with a tired grunt.
After a moment of silence, you try to break it. “So… what happened w—”
“THAT STUPID SON OF A BITCH ALASTOR EMBARRASSED ME ON BROADCAST TODAY! I SWEAR, ONCE I GET MY HANDS ON THAT SCRAWNY RED CU—”
“That’s enough,” you say firmly, placing your hand over his digital mouth.
He stops. Blinks. Then gently pulls your hand away.
“I’m sorry,” he sighs.
You grin softly and cup the side of his face. “It’s okay, Vox. Try not to stress so much. You’ll find a way to bypass him. I promise.”
He leans into your touch, tension easing.
“But what if I don’t?” he murmurs, sadness creeping into his voice.
“You will.” You lean in and press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Promise.”
He smiles, a quiet chuckle escaping him. “What?”
“I just… missed you,” he admits. “So much.”
You laugh softly and nudge him. “I missed you more, Vox.”
Suddenly, he grabs your waist and kisses you again. And again.
“Vox, Vox, Vox!” you laugh, half-giggling. “S-stop!”
He doesn’t. The kisses grow longer, warmer, more intense. What started as playful pecks quickly turns into something far more passionate.
And for the first time all day, Vox finally relaxes.