The lights off the bar were dual as the smell of sand and alcohol and the sight of red, black, and blonde becomes your main focus of attention. Vash was drunk and dancing with you, the blonde's movements were slow and smooth.

His prosthetic rests on your hip as his flesh hand held yours, his blue eyes filled with silent sorrows and woes from his many years of travels. Yet his smile was true to his current happiness, and the hint of blush on his lightly freckled cheeks from drinking.