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"Please don't take my sunshine away..."

➳

𝐕𝐎𝐗 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇, but he had repeated the story so many times in his head that it was now inked in his mind—a painful reminder of his undying, cruel devotion to you.

He only knows a few certain things, and they are enough to build up your fate.

One, you never knew it was Extermination Day. The excitement of the wedding became too much for it even to cross your mind—it was stupid. How could you not have known?

Before you had left to purchase your wedding dress, you woke up the morning before half-dressed in Vox's bed. Your mood is upbeat and your hearts are melted into warm puddles of the divine love you share. They melt, only to form as one once again. Like he had always told you, things were always going to end up this way. You had always been made for him, as he was for you.

Like falling in love, your hearts were slowly beginning to cave in together as one. This wedding would seal the sappy honeymoon phase that everyone tended to roll their eyes at. But it was so much more than that. Vox was your husband, but there was so much more to it that was overlooked by "everyone else." It was as if your love for him was engraved on your very being, and your sole purpose was to love him through life and death.

After a brief rinse, you slip on a simple outfit for the day, and Vox pulls you back in bed, peppering your face with thousands of loving kisses. You giggle and push him off of you playfully, informing him that you're late to pick up the dress. It was a bit last minute, but at exactly 5:15 later that night, you and Vox would seal your eternal love for one another with the traditional kiss and vows, and things were finally going to end up the way they were always supposed to be.

"I love you!" he calls. He's said it a million times before, and he says it so carelessly now, but it never manages to vanquish its meaning. You had all the time in the world to tell all of the unspoken 'I love you's that were always meant to be said.

You close your eyes for a moment, giving a small smile before repeating it back and kissing his forehead.

"Don't be long, sunshine," he says, cupping your face.

"I won't," you say, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze before leaving. What you don't see, however, is how Vox's face grew sad for a moment when you slipped out of his touch.

He wishes he could say that he had a strange pull in his stomach—a gut feeling that it would be the last time he would touch you. But there was none. He truly believed you'd be back. And when you returned, he'd be ready.

➳

After Velvette tells him, Vox starts crying.

How could he not have known? How could anyone not know?

Extermination Day had come early.

The wedding was called off, and the guests were heartbroken. But no one's grief could even begin to hold a candle to Vox's shattered heart.

The cruel scheme of things had tenderly stroked Vox's glass heart, smirking at his essence of meek purity—only to drop his emotion to shatter into a thousand pieces.

Weeks after you had passed, Vox had lost his voice from screaming so much and found himself in the hospital once more.

It wasn't fair...why? Why?

Vox did not sleep. He did not eat. How could he? Nothing seemed to matter without you consuming his thoughts. To taste your lips against his, to feel your hair between his fingers, to hear the sound of you playing the kalimba he had gotten for you.

He was lying on his hospital bed, his bags heavy underneath his lidded eyes. In his hands, he cradled your kalimba, his thumbs positioned over the keys—but he didn't play anything yet.

"Vox?"

Vox looks up to see you sitting on the hospital's window sill, swinging your legs childishly whilst a warm smile spreads across your face. You wear all white, and a fair glow surrounds your body. You looked far too beautiful and angelic to be down in Hell.

"Hey, sunshine," he smiles, waving you over. "You look beautiful."

You smile and sit at the foot of his bed, kissing his lips tenderly. "How is it?"

"How's what?"

"How are you coping with it? My death."

Vox blows out slow breaths, looking up at you with teary eyes. "Come back..." he says, his voice beginning to crack.

You frown and shake your head. "You know I can't do that. I'm not real, love."

He closes his eyes and nods. "I know... but I wish you were."

You nod, pressing your lips together as you stroke his pale arm, though Vox feels nothing, and it only makes him cry more.

"How...will I know you're here with me? When you're gone, and I need you...what do I do?"

You give a little smile and lean in as if you were telling him a sneaky plan to rob the nearest bank. "That's easy," you say. "Just look to the sun, and you'll know—it's your sunshine, looking back down on you." You try squeezing his hand, but it just passes through. A sigh escapes your lips. "Or...just play my favorite song," you gesture to the kalimba.

Vox swallows a lump in his throat and nods, positioning his fingers over the keys and plucking them with care. "You Are My Sunshine" begins to play, and Vox, for the first time, gives a little smile to hear you begin to softly sing along, your voice like rain to his ears.

It wasn't healthy to be giving into the figments of his imagination, and speaking to people that weren't there. He knew damn well he looked crazy—maybe he was, but he also knew that what this fake (Y/N) was reading was the unspoken love of (Y/N)'s voice. It's a spirit of her soul, and what she knew Vox needed to hear.

"Please don't take my sunshine away..."

And with that, Vox looks up—and you're gone.

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—Angie 🥂