Your Star (Vox x reader)

21

My dreamless yet restful sleep didn't last as long as I would've liked. I stir into consciousness with a flutter of my eyes, and through this morning haze, I remember whose arms are enveloped around me. Memories of last night's events flood my thoughts, bringing a flush of light pink to my cheeks. Despite everything happening so fast, I can somehow recall every detail clearly as day. 

The question of regret pops into my mind. Of course, I loved it a little more than I probably should've, but the decision was rash. My desires won the battle over what may have been the more logical choice— leaving the second he mentioned the open door. Nevertheless, regret won't alter the past. If I know anything about Vox, even with his claim of disinterest in playing games, he'll likely forget the experience altogether. It will be considered meaningless, and I won't be delusional as to convince myself otherwise. I sneak a glance at him, noticing how he's still in a deep sleep. Surprisingly, I'm not too tired. I've gotten used to minimal sleep by now, although it can't be that early. I slowly shift out of Vox's grasp to find my phone, careful not to wake him, and stand with sore legs. Upon realizing all our clothes are currently on the floor, I grow a little self-conscious. It's not like we had the remaining energy to redress ourselves. 

Regardless, I spot my phone on the desk and tip-toe towards it. Once I flip it over, the screen displays 8:23 AM. A flicker of remembrance sets off a chain reaction of internal alarms. Today I have work for Velvette. My shift starts at 8 AM.

Without another thought, I start to grab my clothes, practically throwing them onto myself. I've never been late to work, and having someone like Velvette as my boss truly makes this a nightmare come true. Considering this is technically strike two for me, there's no telling how she'll react.

I'm halfway changed when I hear a ruffle coming from the bed. "What the hell are you doing?"

Vox sits upright in bed, one arm behind his screen and displaying a quizzical expression. The sheets fall just above his hips, covering his lower body, much to my relief. My hands move on their own to hurriedly gather the rest of my clothes. "I'm late for work," I stuff the shirt over my head. "Velvette's gonna kill me."

"Just tell her I kept you up late," he chuckles in a raspy breath. "I'm sure she'll get the memo."

His insinuation brings heat to my face. I direct a glare his way as I balance myself on one leg, attempting to slide on my shoe. "You're a dick," I mutter.

"It sure sounded like you were enjoying mine last night."

He's not wrong, but that doesn't mean the comment wasn't bitchy. So, I ignore it while impatiently searching for my other shoe. "Aren't you supposed to have work now too?"

He shrugs carefreely. "There's nothing important scheduled this morning. Besides, I can do whatever I want."

"Must be nice," I huff to his words.

"Jealous?"

"Yeah, obviously." Once I find my shoe, I start tugging it on. What a stupid thing to ask, I think to myself. However, I don't put Vox past it.

He watches me struggle to maintain a balanced posture. "Is it a bad time to ask for round two?"

For some reason, I could smell the dirty question from a minute prior. While a little voice in the back of my brain nags me to take him up on the tempting proposal, I know where my priorities lie. "Take a guess."

"Oh, come on, I'll make it quick," he says teasingly, getting a kick out of my reactions. "It's not like you last long anyway."

My jaw physically drops at his words. I stare at him, absolutely red and in disbelief that he'd call me out like that. The audacity this man has is outrageous. Finally, I managed to get both shoes on. "Goodbye Vox," I utter, snatching my bag and tossing my phone into it.