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"Fuck you."
"Fuck you HARDER."
➳
"𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄?" Vox's voice bounces off of the columns of your shared mansion, a single smirk playing across his lips as he approaches you.
You look up at your lover, giving a soft smile-one that Vox had grown to become so fond of, and to love so deeply.
Patting the spot next to you, Vox leans back on the bench, peering over your shoulder at the instrument he had gifted you.
You hold up the wooden kalimba to his face, strumming the first few notes. "It's 'Can't Help Falling In Love'," you tell him.
Vox gives a warm hum in approval, resting his chin on your shoulder as an indication for you to continue. He loved listening to you play.
You chuckle and position your thumbs over the keys, plucking them gingerly as you hum along to the tune.
"Wise men say... Only fools rush in..."
Your singing voice is soft, and slightly shy-given you were a little nervous now that Vox was watching you, his warm breath trailed down your neck, giving you the occasional kiss.
He smiles from ear-to-ear, his hand running up and down your arm.
"But I, can't help...falling in love with you..." You finish the verse, setting the wooden instrument atop your lap.
"Then again, I'm still learning this song. That's as much as I know..." you look down at the kalimba, tracing the patterned engraving with the tip of your fingernail in attempt to avoid eye contact.
"It's lovely, sunshine. Absolutely perfect...like you." Vox tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lightly lingering on your cheek, touching you as if you were some delicate gem.
Sunshine.
That's what he loved to call you.
Whenever you asked, he'd tell you it's because you were his sun-the ray of love that leads him out of a cloudy day.
Whenever he did, you'd roll your eyes and accuse him of being corny-but Vox would just laugh.
No matter what you say, you'd always be his sunshine.
"That again?" you exhale, resting a fist on your cheek.
He cracks a grin. "It's because-"
"I brighten you daaay...I know, I know. You've told me."
"And I'll keep telling you," he says, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead.
You smile and feel your face heat up in a sensual way. You used to be more self-conscious about it with former partners...but with Vox? Everything was different.
You weren't as self-aware. You weren't scared to look ugly around him-because to Vox-you never were. And Vox wasn't scared to look ugly around you, either. Whether it be physically or mentally...and you've seen both.
Yet you still love him. But that's what couples do, isn't it? Love each other at their best, their worst, their ugly, and everything else in between.
Vox sighs contentedly. "Love you."
"Love you too, dickhead."
He laughs. "Love you more, bitch."
"Slut."
"Whore."
"Fuck you."
"Fuck you harder."
"You guys are disgusting!" Velvette cringed, emerging from the backyard's gates.
Vox chuckled, not the slightest bit embarrassed by his actions.
"Huh, Vox. Didn't know you were a nature guy..." she gushed, looking upon the rows of tulips, roses, and trees spread out amongst the manner's garden.
"I'm not..." he smiled, looking down at you.
You were the main reason Vox had installed his houses' garden. After discovering your love for bouquets and flowers, Vox went above and beyond perfection.
If you liked pastries, he'd open a bakery.
If you liked books, he build a library.
If you liked drawing, he'd install you an art studio.
And you liked flowers, so he built you an entire garden.
And it was a really nice garden, at that.
If you were to look past the menagerie of flowers and fruit trees, you'd be able to make out a small bridge leading over a coy pond, inhabited with frogs, lily pads, and tadpoles.
It was truly a fairy tale, ripped out straight from the books.
It was perfect.
He was perfect.
"Still coming with us to dinner?" Velvette inquired, jutting out her hip as she whipped open her phone in the other.
"Naturally," you replied, swinging your feet a little childishly from the stoned bench.
Vox sat up from the seat, tugging out the hem of his tux before doing one last check for any unnoticed wrinkles.
"Ready to go?" The friends turn to you.
You give a subtle nod, sitting up before setting the kalimba down where you sat, smoothening out your attire for the night.
Vox crouched down to a rose bush, plucking a white rose and tucking it behind your ear. He linked his arm around yours, leading you and Velvette to his car, off for an undoubtedly foolish dinner at Hell's finest bar.
How did a relationship so cute, and so pure...turn into...whatever the fuck this was now?
