On Vash's hand, incoherently scribbled in sharpie, was an address.
This party would be his escape. Paper clenched tight in his hands, his eyes scoured the jumbled bodies.
He just needed a new roommate, preferably a lone-wolf.
But boy, did that ge...
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Vash learned that Wolfwood, or Nick, the man Meryl recommended to him, was the guy he landed at the party. It was undeniably fitting, he thought, seeing as his attraction factor remained the same yet, unfortunately, he could not stand the guy.
Wolfwood had the audacity to arrive with nothing but the guitar permanently strapped to his back and a container of sea monkeys he affectionately named Ki8n, for some reason. Sea monkeys. Vash thought he had landed someone who was cool and attractive, which he still admittedly was, but Wolfwood was also making himself out to be an incredible freeloader. One who found it right to argue with everything Vash did.
"See? See this?" In front of the couch that the lazed dude man-spread on, Vash had his tv set to a presentation hooked to his computer. "This is my share of the rent, this is yours." A stick with a pointer hand at the end of it angrily tapped against the screen, a crazed smile twitching at Vash's features. "I had to pay both of ours last month, and now you're indebted to me, Nick."
He watched as the man's eye twitched. Yes. Get mad. You rotten, good-for-nothing money thief and home wreck- stealer. Vash had learned over the course of the month that Wolfwood hated being referred to as his first name, mumbling something about how some girl called him an emo Santa clause when his stubble got a little too far out.
He found it hilarious, but it sent the man into a depressive episode. He mentioned something about ending it all. Vash, honestly, almost let him, but he had a weird pacifist side to him which told him to save the man's life. He wishes he didn't.
"I told you, it's still too cold for me to go out onto the street corner and play for money like usual." A waft of smoke drew from the guy's lips, Vash's eyes following the train of grey that circled up and faded away.
Gritting his teeth, Vash slammed the key to the next slide. "Which brings me to my conclusion, wolf boy."
Confusion laced with Wolfwood's expression as his gaze took in the words on the screen.
"Get a real job."
The cigarette pulled away from his teeth, caught between two fingers. His head tilted, exposing evenly tanned skin to Vash's eye. His jaw was sharper than a knife. Vash was somewhat unsure how a man could have a neck so pretty, but Wolfwood did. It almost made him fold under his cold gaze, until the words that bumbled out of his mouth were open and in the air.
"Rich coming from you, Mr. Vlogger," The smirk plastered on his face made the sickly-sweet words even more aggravating. It dug into Vash's nerves, his usually friendly and calm demeanor breaking as the abnormal sound of grinding teeth met both of their ears.
