#chilly

People like to use the phrase "when hell freezes over" quite often, not realizing just how COLD it gets in those winter months. To you, it's worse than the burning hot summers. You're bunded up in Voxs sweater, your jacket, a black scarf, and your VoxTech hat. You've been walking for hours, running errands for Vox since all his employees are on holiday break. You go to walk into Vee tower, waiting for the automatic doors to slide open, but it doesn't. You tap your foot impatiently, waving your hand infront of the door censor.

"Helloooo?"

You mutter to yourself, eventully getting sick of waiting. You pry open the doors, pulling them apart with sheer force and walking in. You excepted to be greeted with a warm cloud of heat, Velvette always demands the tower is warm, she says her models can't work in less than perfect conditons. Instead of this wamrth however, you're met with a cold, dark building.

You look around, calling out to the darkness.

"Hello? Whats going on?"

You hear your voice echo. Your ears perk up, hearing the familiar sound of Vox's heavy footsteps come down the curved stairs.

"Vox?"

You call out again.

"I'm here, love. Powers out."

You see the light from his face come down the stairs, the only sorce of light in all of the tower.

"Hi, hun."

You smile and walk towards him, wrapping your arms around his warm body.

"Why are you so cold?"

His voice peaking with concern. His larged, clawed hands rubbing your back suprisingly gently.

"I was running errands for you, remember?"

He grumbles to himself, rubbing your back lovingly.

"Come up to bed, we can light the fireplace and I can make you a hot tea."

You smile against him, nodding. He moves to lace his fingers with yours, guilding you up the stairs and to your room. Once you get there he lifts you into bed, wrapping you up in blankets while he puts the kettle on, waiting for the familar sound of whistling to fill the room. He leans down and lights the electric fireplace in the corner. You watch him move around like a busy bee, wanting to make you as comfortable as possible. The ringing of the kettle starts to emerge. He pops a tea bag into a mug and pours the boiling water into the glass, allowing it to steep.

He walks over to his side table and clicks on some nice piano music, lifting you up with no struggle and placing you on the rug infront of the fire with your blankets wrapped around you. He walks over and grabs the mug, handing it to you and sitting beside you.

"Thank you, love."

You smile, kissing beside his lips. You see a lovesick smile spred across your face.

"Anything for you, I don't want you to get sick after all."

He wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you snug against him. You let your head hit his shoulder, closing your eyes and sighing comfortably. You sip your tea as the warmth fills your heart. You set the glass down and wrap your hands around his arm. After a long moment of comfortable silence, you whisper.

"I love you."

He rubs your shoulder and whispers back.