𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻 (Vox x reader)

15

"Remind me why you were late," a sudden voice throws me out of my daydreams.

I avert my head from the window to Vox, who sits across from me in the limo. The annoyance on his features is depictable, although I suppose that could be considered his resting face. Having accepted his invite to this event in a drunken and weary state, I may or may not have forgotten about it until 30 minutes before the pickup time. There was hardly enough time to choose an outfit, do my makeup, and fix my hair, hence my less put-together appearance. 

Remembering his question, I quickly formulate a response. "I... got home from work late."

He raises a doubtful brow. "You forgot, didn't you?"

His words cause me to look off to the side in slight embarrassment. "My mind was super preoccupied," I justify.

"Uh-huh," he comments, adjusting the expensive-looking watch on his wrist. "Seems to be a reoccurring theme with you."

His reference to my oblivion to the previous extermination floods me with self-loathing. Determined to switch the subject, I disregard his statement. "What exactly is this event? And please don't just say it's for business."

"It's mainly for socializing and making deals. I don't usually attend these sorts of things, but I figured it could be useful." 

I nod to the clarification, then grow curious about something. "Will Velvette or Valentino be there?" The last thing I want to deal with is running into either of them. Velvette remains oblivious to me working for Vox, and I intend to keep it that way.

"No. We've got plenty of souls between the three of us, but it never hurts to restock, especially now."

A light sigh of relief escapes my lips as he gives me the answer I'd hoped for, though the way he speaks as if souls are objects is unsettling. Unfortunately, he's not the only one in hell with that viewpoint. I gaze out the window again, watching as we leave the entertainment district of Pentagram City and enter the central zone.

"From what I remember, the guests can get very aggressive," he pauses for a moment, presumably thinking of a way to explain further. "Some are fucked in the brain. So, don't leave my side, got it?"

"Okay, yeah," I respond, wondering what the hell I got myself into. I've come across my fair share of lunatics, but to be in a whole room full of them isn't exactly what I had in mind for tonight.

The limo soon pulls up in front of a large building and judging solely by the exterior, it's obvious that the owner spared no expense. A moment later, the chauffeur opens the door of the limo. I follow Vox outside and wait as he informs the chauffeur what time to pick up. Once he finishes, he turns to me, allowing me to get a first full glance at the suit on him. My initial observation is that it looks even better on him than on the mannequin. Though black is simple, the color complements his skin very well. Not to mention how it fits so nicely on his figure. Whether it is pride for my design or awe of seeing him wear it, I'm incredibly satisfied with the result.

He must've noticed my prolonged staring, so he speaks. "It looks good, doesn't it? I must say, it's impressive that you finished it in just one day."

Hearing compliments from Vox is weirdly off-putting, though I can't say I dislike them. "Thank you. I'm just as surprised."

The two of us make our way toward the large doors, and I follow Vox inside. Upon our entry, I am greeted with a dimmed atmosphere and the noise of light jazz playing over voices. Sinners converse in large groups: some standing, others huddled around what I assume to be gambling tables. Bright chandeliers are strung from the ceiling, illuminating the otherwise dark room. I'm unsure what I expected, but it certainly wasn't this.