Chapter XVI - Golden Hour

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You and Vox managed to escape the dance floor, walking out to a secluded spot by the tables out front. Seems everyone was too busy inside to consider coming out here.

Their loss. It's gorgeous tonight.

It was a similar scene to the one outside the planetarium, you and Vox sat down at a table and gazed up at the sunset, the majestic waves of red, orange, and gold all spiraled into this one moment in time. Your moment.

The sky was golden, and Vox thought it to frame your face perfectly. The dim, honey-like lightning reflecting on your (S/C) skin, and cause your (H/C) hair to shine slightly.

He looked around your neck to see the Saturn pendant wink at him in the light.

"Now this, is breathtaking," you said, watching the clouds slowly close over the sun setting.

"Yeah...it really is..." he agreed, tilting his head to see the daylight gradually being swallowed up.

But there was something else on Vox's tongue. He needed to say it...he needed to get it out...

"What are we?" he finally blurted out.

The words left his lips easily, or what appeared to be so. He was truly nervous for your answer, because he...liked you. Though he knew it, he wouldn't say it. At least out loud.

"What we are?" you repeated, clutching your beer bottle firmly.

He silently nods, shuffling a bit in his position.

"We're...complicated, that's for sure," you mutter. This was the only thing you could say that would make it true--and keep you safe from any...unwanted difficulties.

"Yeah...definitely," Vox agreed sipping his drink nervously.

The two of you wait with bated breath, waiting to see who'll speak next. What's to say? The silence between you two was golden, almost playing a game of chicken.

"What do you want to be?" you finally asked him, looking him in the eye.

He pauses for a moment, your gaze piercing into him--pressuring him like a spotlight.

I wanna use you to get back at Val... he thought.

...but that's only half of it.

Vox hesitates.

"I think...we should officially become a thing," he says in attempt to sound nonchalant, though it's poorly covered.

There. I've said it, damn it.

"A thing?" you echo. "Me as your girlfriend--you as my boyfriend?" You chest flutters to hear those words spill from your lips. And to him.

"Y-yeah," he says nervously, clearing his throat. "I mean, yeah." Vox leans back in his seat, as if he asked about the weather, and not if you wanted to date him.

You're silent for a moment. Vox bites back the urge to impatiently tap his foot.

(Y/N). Answer the fucking question-

Despite Vox's calm exterior, he feels waves of nausea course through him, fighting against himself to sit still. Why is he feeling this nervous? It's just a bet! And only for a while...
It nearly feels sinful to be reacting this way. Like he's not supposed to.

Feelings...ugh!

"I'd like to try," you finally say, glancing up at him.

Vox perks up. "Y-yeah?"

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 • 𝘝𝘰𝘹 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 ✓Where stories live. Discover now