「 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 」

You woke up later that night with your head resting on Vox's bare chest, which occasionally rose and fell with each ragged breath he took.

He was fast asleep, after the events of last night. Well, any man would've been knocked out cold.

You shudder, an unwanted chill slithering up your spine.

You didn't want to think about last night. It wasn't your proudest, nor your finest moment. But you had at least deserved a pat on the back for that performance, really.
Can we get an Oscar over here...?

If you looked at it from a different perspective...it wasn't something dirty at all. It was noble, even. Just because you had pleased him for a single night doesn't mean it MEANT anything to you. All that matters, is he thought it meant something.

And it did.

To him, at least.

You slip out of bed, your silk pajamas and that Velvette had gifted you earlier smoothly gliding across the sheets with fluent ease. You begin to tiptoe out of the room, leaving Vox snoring, and satisfied.

Oh, the privilege of being a woman.

Just a simple bat of the eye, a playful grin, the right tone of voice... Vox was a perfect target, easily swooned with sweet words and lured into your web.

You close the door soundlessly behind you, the only sound that was heard in the vast silence was the occasional swish of your pajama pants, and low croak of the floorboards.

Much to your favor, Vox was a heavy sleeper.

With him put out like a baby to sleep, you were able to finally put everything into place.

You stepped foot into your room, kneeling down on the ground as you see the pills poured along the rug from a few hours ago. Thankfully, they were left untouched.

Scooping up as much as your fist could take, you sprawl them out on your mattress, counting them again to make sure that all twenty-seven were there. You wouldn't want any spares fall under the wrong gaze.

Slipping it into your pocket, you walk about the corridors with confidence, trying to recall where the dining room was. Wherever there's a dining room—a kitchen couldn't be too far, right?

You set foot into a familiar, obsidian-themed room and dart your eyes for any direction pointing to the kitchen.

You see a double-doored entrance, which you approach and push open absentmindedly.

You take no time to stop and admire the kitchen, and before you know it, your hands are pulling open draws as if your life depended on it, searching for something—something to crush the pills with.

⊹⊹⊹

After what seemed like an eternity of searching, you find an intricately engraved spoon and cereal bowl.

Careful not to alarm anyone in the household, you gingerly empty out your pockets, pouring the medications in, you start grinding it with your spoon until it forms into a smooth, sickishly pale green powder.

Once the pills are transformed into a powder thin enough to your liking, you take a plastic bag and seal its' contents shut, slipping it into your back pocket.

Doing a last once-over to the kitchen, you make sure to leave any remains of your presence left clean from the area.

With a satisfied nod, you exit, returning to your room and tucked the bag of powder beneath your mattress.

There was nothing to get in your way now.

⊹⊹⊹

"Morning, Doll."

You rolled over on your side, feigning exhaustion, despite the fact you've been awake for the last few hours.

You pushed out a yawn. "Morning, Vox."

"I can't stop thinking about last night..." he sighs dreamily, twisting a strand of your (H/C) hair between his fingers.

"Neither can I..." you respond, with the same tone of voice. You hesitate for a moment. "Hey...Vox?"

"Hm?" he hums, propping himself up by the elbow.

"How about we have a little dinner tonight? Just the two of us? I feel like the last didn't go as I wanted..." you let the silence engulf the room. "I want to set things right."

Vox doesn't even pretend to hesitate for a moment before responding; "Yes...yes, of course Doll! Any reason to spend more time with my...girlfriend?" he says, sounding more like a question than a statement. Like he was asking you.

You give a little nod as response. "Exactly. A dinner between Hell's cutest couple."

Vox chuckles, humming in agreement. "I'd say so. Well—this is just perfect, Doll. I can't wait to see you tonight."

"Me too," you kiss his forehead lovingly, resulting in a wide smile from him. "See you tonight?"

"I'll see you tonight."

Yet much to your demise, Vox had plans to surely demolish the "plan" you had set up.

⊹⊹⊹

A/N: I just love making my characters miserable ^^

Really, really poorly written chapter today! Yayyy...

I'm a little sick at the moment, and basically half-awake.

But we push through 💪

~angie 🥂

(Word count - 838 words)