𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 • 𝘝𝘰𝘹 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 ✓

Chapter XXII - Lies

"(Y/N)—hey, how are ya?" Vox asks, holding his phone up to the side of his face.

You smile from the other line, pleased to hear your lover's voice echo in your ear. "Hey, Vox! I'm good, why do you ask?"

You couldn't see him from the other line, but you knew he shrugged his shoulders casually. "No reason, but I wanted to talk to you," he says, a slight edge to his voice.

You pinch your eyebrows together. "Are you alright, Vox?" you ask.

Vox nods—but stops himself while looking stupid. "I'm fine. But I'd like you to come over to the tower. Please."

You check the clock on your wall and turn back to the phone. "Alright, be there in fifteen."

"Thanks," he sighs, letting out a breath of relief.

The fifteen minutes that took you to arrive at his house went by slowly, as Vox started pacing around. Over the carpets, around the coffee tables, and right into Velvette, who was splattered by her bubble tea.

She growled. "This is designer..." she mustered.

Vox quickly dashed to the nearest security camera, allowing himself to be swallowed up by the sparks of electricity emitting from around him, teleporting to Lucifer knows where--as long as it's away from (a now very infuriated) Velvette.

He's brought to the living room--well, one of the six living rooms in his mansion. This one was his second favorite.

It had vast windows circled by a coral blue couch, which Vox had always pointed out to resemble a spaceship. But then again, he still possessed the imagination of a six-year-old child, even at his age.

Vox plopped down on the spaceship couch as he started to bounce his leg and fiddle with his hands while waiting for your arrival.

He opens up his phone in trepidation, managing to type out a message to you.

Vox ❤

Vox ❤:
Hey...you coming?

You:
Yeah, sry. I'll be over in five.

Vox ❤:
K, take your time 😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😜😜😜😜😜😜😽😽😽😽😽😽😽😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😚😚😚😚😚😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏🥴😋🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

You:
...

✶✶✶

Was that too many emojis?

Nah, I was just expressing myself.

Vox read over your message about a million times before letting a sigh escape his lips as he started to nervously tap the phone against his thigh, awaiting your arrival once more.

A single chime emits from the door and Vox jumps up from the couch, swinging the door open to reveal you, wearing a white T-shirt that read "NYC" from the back, and blue cargo jeans that complimented it perfectly.

It was a casual fit, but Vox thought you to have never looked more beautiful.

"Hey..." Vox mutters, leaning against the doorframe.

"Hey," you reply, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. "Can I come in?"

Vox mentally smacked himself. "Yes! Yes, of course..." he ushered you in, returning to his spot on the couch.