You lie in bed watching tv idly in your favorite pair of pajamas, simply enjoying the peace of the moment. Like clockwork, the door opens to the room only to be followed by the sound of it closing with a little too much force. You sit up, peeking over the beds banister to see your beloved demon approaching you.

“I’m fine baby,” he assured you before you could speak, knowing you were about to ask him if he was okay. He untied the bow tie around his neck, disregarding it in a nearby chair before shrugging off his suit jacket. Off goes his little top hat, the item landing comically over his coat.

It really isn’t long when he’s in bed next to you, clawed hands reaching for you instinctively. He tugs on your frame easily, drawing you in close till you’re back it’s resting against his chest.

“I’m so fucking tired.” Vox complains, brushing his screen-like face over your head. He’s holding you close, thin arms settling around your stomach.

“Just need to hold you..” he trailed off, his usual sing-songy voice now a low mumble. He rubbed absentminded little patterns over your ribs, the motion gentle and tender.

You love Vox for all that he was, but it really was a treat to see this side of him—the exhausted demon who just wanted to hold you.