An unlikely love blossomed between you and Vox. You two got on each other’s nerves and yet you both balanced each other out.

You thought everything Vox owned was vile, that he didn’t care a whit. He didn’t share your devotion to style. Meanwhile, in Vox’s eyes, you screwed too much and had an unlimited knowledge of dreck.

When you push, he pulls. When he shouts, you shout back. It was just the way things were. Vox was the rich, charismatic man who wanted to be loved while you were the horny one who desired to feel wanted. “Fit like a glove” you both agreed upon. Fighting was what you both liked most between you and Vox’s lesser passions.

Vox and you would be sitting next to each other at some formal event, a random couple sitting across from you two asking how long you’ve been together.

“We’ve been together for 9 months.” you answered before Vox interrupted.

“10 months.”

“9 months—”

“10 months.” Vox narrowed his eyes before turning his gaze away from you. “We’re the salt of the bourgeoisie to sum it up.” Vox chuckled as the other couple would chuckle with him awkwardly alongside you. You and him would give each other a quick glance before focusing back on the couple at hand, both you and Vox’s hands interlocked with each other.

Oh how you both would kill for that thrill of first love again.