You and Vox managed to escape the dance floor, walking out to a secluded spot by the tables out front. Seems everyone was too busy inside to consider coming out here.

Their loss. It's gorgeous tonight.

It was a similar scene to the one outside the planetarium, you and Vox sat down at a table and gazed up at the sunset, the majestic waves of red, orange, and gold all spiraled into this one moment in time. Your moment.

The sky was golden, and Vox thought it to frame your face perfectly. The dim, honey-like lightning reflecting on your (S/C) skin, and cause your (H/C) hair to shine slightly.

He looked around your neck to see the Saturn pendant wink at him in the light.

"Now this, is breathtaking," you said, watching the clouds slowly close over the sun setting.

"Yeah...it really is..." he agreed, tilting his head to see the daylight gradually being swallowed up.

But there was something else on Vox's tongue. He needed to say it...he needed to get it out...

"What are we?" he finally blurted out.

The words left his lips easily, or what appeared to be so. He was truly nervous for your answer, because he...liked you. Though he knew it, he wouldn't say it. At least out loud.

"What we are?" you repeated, clutching your beer bottle firmly.

He silently nods, shuffling a bit in his position.

"We're...complicated, that's for sure," you mutter. This was the only thing you could say that would make it true--and keep you safe from any...unwanted difficulties.

"Yeah...definitely," Vox agreed sipping his drink nervously.

The two of you wait with bated breath, waiting to see who'll speak next. What's to say? The silence between you two was golden, almost playing a game of chicken.

"What do you want to be?" you finally asked him, looking him in the eye.

He pauses for a moment, your gaze piercing into him--pressuring him like a spotlight.

I wanna use you to get back at Val... he thought.

...but that's only half of it.

Vox hesitates.

"I think...we should officially become a thing," he says in attempt to sound nonchalant, though it's poorly covered.

There. I've said it, damn it.

"A thing?" you echo. "Me as your girlfriend--you as my boyfriend?" You chest flutters to hear those words spill from your lips. And to him.

"Y-yeah," he says nervously, clearing his throat. "I mean, yeah." Vox leans back in his seat, as if he asked about the weather, and not if you wanted to date him.

You're silent for a moment. Vox bites back the urge to impatiently tap his foot.

(Y/N). Answer the fucking question-

Despite Vox's calm exterior, he feels waves of nausea course through him, fighting against himself to sit still. Why is he feeling this nervous? It's just a bet! And only for a while...
It nearly feels sinful to be reacting this way. Like he's not supposed to.

Feelings...ugh!

"I'd like to try," you finally say, glancing up at him.

Vox perks up. "Y-yeah?"

"Yeah..."

"Worth a shot, right?" he fiddles with his glass.

"Definitely."

"Great! Uh- cool."

"Yeah...cool."

✶✶✶

"So...how'd it go?" Velvette asks, once the three of them were back at the tower.

Vox laughs and tosses his bag to the floor. "That bitch is in the bag." His own words pierce him more than they should.

The three friends popped champagne that night--a celebration!
A very sick celebration.

A celebration of you definite downfall.

Your downfall as an Overlord.

What would your father say?

"You become all high and mighty only to be played by some pretty boy? Pathetic."

Yeah, that sounds about right.

But you didn't know. In fact, you were also celebrating. Oh, only if you knew--I'd be humiliating.

You cheered silently in your room, letting yourself daydream and fantasize about your new boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

The words sounds so foreign. Foreign, new, and perfect. It fits.

Vox.

Vox is your fucking boyfriend, damn it!

You were on cloud nine. It was all cupcakes and rainbows for you.

That night, you went to bed, hugging a pillow as you dreamt of Vox--no, that's creepy--you drifted off to dreamland soundly.

And you might've had a dream about Vox.

Maybe.

✶✶✶

Vox's POV

What have I done?

Okay, okay...fine. Fine.

Get the fuck off of my ass.

I like her.

I like (Y/N).

A lot.

I was in denial. (Egypt lmfao)

She's exactly where I need her to be. But not where I want her to be.

In order for me to win this bet, I need to be soft for her. I need to lure her in. But it's all fun and games until someone gets hurt.

During these past few dates...I've learned that she's actually...cool.
She's funny! And smart! Pretty, too? God...I'm such a fucking bastard for doing this to her.

She could have any man she wanted here. Angel Dust, Stolas, Lucifer, I bet even she could even land Alastor if she tried!

But no...she's with me.

The fucking player that knows he's about to break her heart.

I don't want to do this...I want to be her boyfriend, and not just because of a stupid bet. I want to let down my guard around her. Around my friends. Around myself.

Why must I have created these barriers?

It doesn't make it easier for me, that's for sure.

There's simply nothing I can do right now. It'll happen the way it's supposed to.

For now I just keep my cool and nonchalant composure. I'm Vox, Overlord of Tech. I'll be fine. Just...fine.

...hopefully.

✶✶✶

A/N: ☝️Image of Vox was drawn by my younger brother! 🥰

He said, and I quote;

"It was pretty easy to draw, and it came out well! I'm proud of it, even though I don't watch Hazbin, I love supporting Angel!"

~angie 🥂

( Word count - 1,006 words )