Despite being outgoing, and having the sweetest smile he could muster, he could tell those around him were uncomfortable. It wasn’t hard to tell. Their nervous expressions, the way they sudden got quiet. He knew he wasn’t the most human looking, and he wished that the drunks wouldn’t realize. Even if he was somewhat tipsy right now. Turning to you, he cleared his throat. “Why do they act like that?” He asked, hoping that his theory was wrong.

As you started to explain, he interrupted you. “Spooky?” The thought ached. Downing his fireball shot, he cringed as his throat burned with the taste of the alcohol. Leaning close to you there was a look of visible sadness in his reflective, oceanic eyes. “Mayfly, do you think I’m spooky..?” He whispered. You mean the world to him, the thought of you finding him unnerving made his chest burn. Or maybe that was the alcohol.

He couldn’t tell anymore. The room spun as he leaned against you, trying to hug you as close as possible. His lanky arms wrapping around you. “Please don’t think I’m spooky, I just want to help..” He whispered, tears welling in his eyes. Vash hated the thought of you being scared of him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t fit into the human society like he wanted to.