It was hard for Vash to not look at you during moments like these.

As the moon lay high in the sky, like a queen on her throne, she emitted a perfect light, dousing you in an almost ethereal glow. Combined with the campfire flickering between the two of you, you were the epiphany of perfection in Vash's eyes, the sight alone making his throat dry.

Yet, the harshness of it all kept his feelings reduced to a bubbling urge in the depths of his gut. The outlaw life wasn't an easy one, and Vash knew that better than most, but you were always there to get him out of trouble. Perhaps that's why he grew so attached, feelings so close yet so out of reach.

The idea of two men being together was frowned heavily upon, and after a long time Vash had come to terms with the fact love simply wouldn't come to him, even coming to terms with the inescapable grasp of death. Well, all up until he met you, the man of his dreams.

"Tough week we've had," Vash broke the silence in a weak attempt to keep his thoughts from drifting, loosely fidgeting with the loops of his gun belt. His expression was somber, a light, almost missable frown on his face. "Just glad you're alright." He added lightly.