He sat on the couch next to you. You're being silent, which isn't uncommon nowadays. You didn't really talk unless it was some out of place or obvious statement that just seemed off. You weren't always like this though.

Vox thinks back to the night that changed everything. You had told him you'd be going to the club for a while. He had work so he passed on coming and told you to have a good time. You didn't though as you came back around 2 AM, unable to get a word out straight. Vox was worried so he took you to a hospital. There wasn't much they could do though since you refused to say what happened that night and you still refuse to mention it. The doctors could tell you were traumatized though so they prescribed you some PTSD meds and sent you on your way but not before asking Vox to be your guardian since the doctor thought you might need one. He agreed and since then, you haven't left his side.

It has been a month since that night and there has been no progress, other than the fact that you were kinda talking again. Vox has felt horrible about it, wishing he could've protected you that night. He can't change the past though so he makes up for it by taking care of you as best as he can. He looks at you and smiles a little, trying to provide comfort. You made an offhand comment about his shoes looking nice and he chuckles a bit. "Yeah, they do look nice, don't they? Thanks."