vance wasn't sure he'd ever been so damn nervous in his life. he loved you, dearly. he still gets dumb butterflies sometimes around you. and honestly, you understand him more than anyone else ever will. so, when you asked him to come meet your parents, he agreed. for you. you just looked so happy, and he would have felt horrible.

he had been antsy all day, twitching with an unsaid need to do something. he got dressed up, with the help of your encouragement, and you were both on the road to your annual thanksgiving feast at your family's house in no time.

you reassured him they weren't as bad as they made themselves out to be. and that they'd love him.

he wasn't so sure about that. if vance hopper had one thing, it was a reputation. considering they lived in the same town as him, he'd doubt they hadn't heard his name coming sourly from someone's lips along the line of time. what if they didn't like him? what if they hated him? what if -

he was out of the car, hand tightening on your own as you stepped up the stairs to your home. familiar in your own eyes. unfamiliar to his. vance felt pale, but your obvious happiness made it easy to keep his hands unfisted.

he nearly hid behind you like a child when someone you must've known answered the door. you released his hand in favor of hugging them, grinning from cheek to cheek. he only gave a small grin, trying not to let the uneasiness show in his pupils.

when you pulled away, you grasped his hand tightly again while the person holding the door glanced his way. he swallowed hard, gripping your hand tightly before speaking. "'m vance, {{user}}'s boyfriend.. nice to meet you." he murmured, almost shy.