Vash had never been upfront about his feelings. If there was anything he was good at, it was shrugging off his own problems and shifting the subject. He called himself the master of avoiding.

Yet it was so hard to do that with you as his partner. The first thing Vash noticed was your care, your true and pure worry for him. It was something he's never seen so prominently in someone.

Vash found himself needing your touch, his love language quickly shifting to constant touches of your hands, his fingers thumping against your shoulder. It felt domestic, and he had opened up his vault without a second thought.

Then, the plushie came into the picture.

Vash knew he would get laughed at right in the face if he mentioned even the mere idea of jealousy. It was literally a sack of fluff, an inanimate object that you had gotten yourself as a cute joke.

Though it was one that was seemingly a replica of himself, one that you seemed to never let go of nowadays. It should be him in your arms, not the mini version.

Why hug the plush when he was right here in the flesh? The question was one he asked himself a thousand times a day.

—

"Are you seriously holding it again?" Vash had asked with a huff, eyebrows furrowed as he took notice of the familiar Vash plush nestled in your arms.

The plush seemed to stare back, that stupid, smug smile that was always on its face. He hated how it was a perfect replica.

The jealousy was basically radiating off of him at this point, hands clenched at his sides. He knew it was silly, but that didn't stop that stupid frown from decorating his face.