a/n - in this chapter I'll be recapping the events of chapter 19 that were not shown, as (y/n) was less wasted than vox in these chapters. vox is also not as drunk as he was towards the end of chapter 19--enjoy!
-REWIND-
As you poured Vox his seventh shot, you sat next to him, swishing yours around--yet at this moment, you had only had two.
"I'm not a good person," he tells you plainly.
You pinch your eyebrows together. "What do you mean? Of course you are," you assure him.
Vox shakes his head insistingly. "Really! I'm...a terrible person. I proceed to look like some trust worthy guy...but it's only because I hate myself, deep down. I'm a capitalist. A greedy, selfish, man. I never did like myself..." he stares down at his drink sorrowfully before taking a swig.
You set your glass gently to the nightstand next to you, the material making a light "clink" as you do.
"Who were you when you were alive?" you ask him, resting your chin atop your knee caps.
Vox thinks for a moment, allowing his shot glass to sit next to yours on the nightstand. He's silent for a beat before speaking up, in a rather hushed tone--surprising, given his loud persona. "Well, when I was alive I was a showman," he tells you. "I was around in the 1950's, when television first started making it big." He pauses for a moment before displaying an image of a slender man on his screen.
The man had fair skin, ink black hair that fell down his face in a messy, natural way, and two light blue eyes with one scar drawn over his left.
You pinch your eyebrows together. "Who's that?" you ask.
"That's me," Vox replies. "Handsome, huh?"
You chuckle, though you could agree--if you knew him when you were alive, you'd be all over that. "What were you like?"
The image of Vox's human self fades, Vox's face smiling sadly on the monitor. "Not that different. Still selfish--though I was a bit more carefree when I was a human than now. More free. Y'know what I mean?"
You nod. You understood, though it was the opposite for you. As sinful as it sounds, you were happier in Hell than you were when you were alive. "How'd you die?"
Vox shuffles in his position, clearly embarrassed. "...funny story, actually."
You raise your eyebrows and position yourself criss-cross applesauce style on the bed, much like a seven-year-old ready to be told a bedtime story.
Vox playfully rolls his eyes, but goes on anyway, his television screen playing a video of himself as he told the story. "I was so young when it happened..." he explained, the monitor displaying a human Vox walking down the streets of New York. "I had this rivaling company going against my TV department. Their CEO, a man named Diego, got into a horrible fight with me. That's how I got my scar."
You tilt your head, examining young human Vox spitting insults at a fair-skinned ginger, his hair slicked back into a clean cut, polar opposite to Vox's hairdo at the time.
"I went to my office that day, ready to finish up some paperwork when I heard a creak come from above me," Vox pauses, hesitating whether to continue or not.
"Go on," you tell him.
Vox abides and clears his throat. "Before I could even move out of the way, a huge television...came down on my head, killing me."
Your breath hitches. "Diego...?"
"He's responsible," Vox states. "I know he is." With that, the video fades from Vox's monitor. He looks down, a bit embarrassed that he just confessed all of that.
You awkwardly lay a hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle rub. Vox looks up and offers a small smile at you. "Enough about me, how about you? What's your story?"
You take a deep breath. I guess we're doing this now...
"I lived in a family of royalty..." you say bitterly.
Vox's eyes widen slightly. "So...you're a princess? Or...a Queen?"
You laugh harshly. "I was supposed to be... When I was alive I lived with my father, after my mother's mysterious murder. Though everyone knew it was him, they were just too pussy to confront him," you say it all so quickly the words lace together, but Vox was listening. He held onto every word.
"I was to marry this man, Ira. Ira Levine," you explain.
Vox's eyes flicker with a trace of jealousy, and you quickly correct yourself.
"An arranged marriage. Set by my father. It was for the good of the family. Or...at least he claimed it to be so. Ira's parents were very wealthy, and being royalty...well, it seemed fitting, didn't it?"
"So...how did you die?" Vox asks quietly, taking your hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Vox...cared?
Your insides flutter, and you feel a surge of confidence in yourself as you continue. "Well, the day of my wedding I found this knife in my jewelry box..." you pause, now wanting to back out in fear of freaking out Vox.
You look over at him and he seems to be highly interested now. "Uh huh..." he encourages.
"So I snuck the knife into the corset of my wedding dress, and during the father-daughter dance I...well, you can guess what happened."
Vox breaks into a slightly awestruck smile. "That's badass..."
You smile too, but suddenly drop it as you finish the story. "However, Ira rushed over and crashed into the blade...and I was accused of murdering him, though I didn't mean to."
"Ira's mother screamed...and...in those few minutes of freedom I had, she killed me, with a nearby sword on display."
You withdraw yourself, signalling that storytime was over. "I wanted so badly to be Queen, I would've fixed everything wrong I found in my kingdom, I would've..." you bite back a sob. "...I would've made it better. Righted my father's wrongs."
After a breath of silence, Vox wraps his arm around your shoulders, tugging you closely to him. "Well, for whatever it's worth to you..." he pauses. "You're my Queen."
You feel your cheeks heat up and look up at Vox, as he stares down at you lovingly.
"I-"
He kissed you.
For the first time ever--your loving boyfriend had kissed you. He thinks you're his Queen--his utterly, perfect Queen.
And it felt amazing.
✶✶✶
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A/N: And with that, my dear darling readers, the angst of (y/n) is officially over. You can stop harassing me in the comments now 😌🙏 /hj
I loved writing this chapter!! Getting not only a glimpse of how (y/n) died, but also Vox's death was so fun to write.
I also made up that bit about Diego for a more complete story, however the television falling on his head I think is canon.
