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"I'm here. I always will be."
➳
"𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 take a break, Vox," Velvette insisted. "Those worry lines aren't doing anything good for you."
A sigh escaped the Overlord's lips, and he glanced up at Velvette. "I appreciate it, but these clients are riding up my ass," he pauses. "Not in a good way."
She gives a half shrug. "I'm just saying. I always give my models a break."
"Yeah? Well, I'm not one of your models now, am I?"
"You sure don't look like one," she bites. "Y'know, you're no fun these days."
And he knew he wasn't any fun. He hadn't been fun.
Well, how was he supposed to act fun, have fun, BE fun if the only reason he smiled was now gone?
The light of his life, his sunshine.
He was once a thriving rose. Thirty for water, sunlight, oxygen... Only to be left to shrivel and crumble into nothing.
It was unfair. Why had the loving hand, the hand he had grown to care for and fall for so much in the years he'd been with you just...leave?
Your breakup had been that cliche "it's not you...it's me" bullshit.
The weeks...the months Vox had spent wasting away in front of his mirror?
[ flashback ]
You walked up to Vox, your eyelashes weighed down with teardrops, your bottom lip shaking as you struggled to get your words out.
Vox's head tilted, and he rushed up to you, taking your hand, while the other grazed your cheek.
"Are you okay?"
You glance up at him, your head pushing itself down in shame and guilt. The problem was; Vox looked so happy. He always did. When he was with you, anyone could depict that his mood instantly brightened when you crossed his path.
He would catch a grenade for you, cut off his own hand. Kill any being, any THING for you.
He always assumed that you'd do the same...wouldn't you?
Well, maybe then. But not now.
You shake your head, at this point unable to stifle in your sobs. You tried stiffing down your heavy gasps, the shake of your palms, the everflowing stream of tears running down your cheeks.
You just wanted it to stop...stop hurting...stop crying...stop feeling.
Vox takes no second to swallow you in an affectionate hug, leading you to the foot of your shared bed.
"Hey...hey..." he says smoothly, cupping your cheek, soaked with teardrops. "You'll be okay. I'm here. I always will be," he assured with a comforting smile. "What's the matter? Can I get you...anything?"
You couldn't even manage a sentence under his gaze. He was just trying to help... That simple smile, his soft and assuring gaze...?
You didn't want to be the one to wipe that smile from his face. With your words, your simple, blunt words...
"Talk to me, sunshine. What's on your mind?" Vox placed a finger under your chin, pressing his lips against yours delicately.
You take several deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart. "Vox..." you look down at your feet.
He nods, turning your face to his again. "Yeah?"
You're silent for another beat. "I want to break up."
It's worse than you thought it'd be.
Vox's smile wipes clean from his face, and you see his eyes shift into a frantic, panicked state. His chest rises and falls. He clears his throat; "I... what?"
"I just — I don't think this will work out," you reply softly.
Vox's eyebrows furrow. "W- why? Did I do something? Say something? I can change, I promise..." his voice began a silent beg.
You shook your head. "It's nothing you did..." your voice quavers. "It never was. It's always been...me."
Vox shakes his head in heartbreak in disbelief. "Why? Just...why? Please, (Y/N) I—"
"I just don't feel the same!" you suddenly interrupt, taken aback by your own bold movement. "I'm not sure if it's temporary or anything. I just need a break."
"...but from me?"
You give a blunt nod. "Don't try to change my mind. I can just flat-out tell you it won't work." You turn away, refusing to look him in the eye. Yet that only broke him more.
"I..." Vox is at a loss for words. What does he say?
"I'll miss you," he finally decides, standing up from the bed, and discarding your hand.
➳
"What is WRONG with me?!" Vox looked up at the bathroom window, his face wet with tears, despite his poor attempts to wipe them away.
A tear escaped from his grasp, and slipped down to his neck. Vox jolted up, a heart-stopping rush of electricity coursing through his bloodstream. He let out a pained scream, looking up at his tired, tortured expression in the mirror.
"(Y/N)..."
But you weren't there. You wouldn't be. Yet...he'd STILL catch a grenade for you. Even if you wouldn't for him.
[ end of flashback ]
"Vox...?" Velvette glanced over at Vox, his chest rising and falling at a rapid pace.
"W-what?"
Velvette digs through her purse, pulling out her credit card. "Take it," she orders. "There's a new bar down the street."
"I—" Vox sighs. "Thanks, Vel."
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a/n: could you tell I was listening to bruno mars when writing this? I just love angst.
