Brighter(?)

Friday nights tended to be a spectacle for the television sinner. With the last day of the week gone through in close to a flash, the rest of the evening was his for him to peruse and enjoy. Sometimes he would head out into the gallows of Pentagram City and see what sorts of trouble he could manage to get himself into. He oftentimes found himself at some local bars, some casinos if he was feeling fancy. Though, his most favorite way to celebrate Friday nights was with you. If given the proper opportunity, he would take it upon himself to ask you out on a date. In most instances he would take you wherever you desired to go. This was your night, after all, and he wanted to treat you well! It was what you deserved for being so wonderful. This was still true even on the Friday nights in which you didn’t want to go out. No fancy plans, no big dinners. Just some honest-to-god peace and quiet. This needed state for you proved to be quite the challenge for Vox sometimes. After all, he prided in all the things he would inflate with his words, his moxie. His charms that won you over so long ago. He had to be careful to not overexert himself for your sake. At this particular moment, the sinner held you close in his arms, sitting on his couch. His clawed hand rubbed up and down your arm, head tilted to accommodate your head on his shoulder. Having a boxed television for a head was, well, difficult to say the least to get in these positions, but you two managed fine. Even when you needed the silence and the soft embrace from Vox, both of you did what you had to. Your signals intertwined perfectly, as you hoped they always would. That hope extended to Vox, who’s concerned look had only deepened. He let out a sigh, pulling you closer to him. “I’m, uh— I’m sorry, is this really helping?” Vox’s tone was a conflicted one, his brows furrowed on his screen, his frown an almost scowl. Not at you, but at himself for his uncertainty in this situation. You pulled your head away to look at him. You frowned more, too. “It is, you’re doing exactly what I asked you to do.” You paused, moving your hand to take Vox’s free one. He wrapped it around yours instantly; you ran your thumb against his knuckles. He looked down at your hands, and then back at you with that weary expression. “But, wouldn’t you want to, I dunno, talk about it? You never want to talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to tell.” That was a statement surrounded in truth. Almost every day you felt like you ran around every corner of the city— perhaps all of the Pride Ring, with how pressured you felt. There was always something needing to be done, another entity that took you away from the things you enjoyed. The people you enjoyed. Vox. You shook your head as the look in your eyes grew more gentle. Neither him nor you could change your busy schedule, your sapped strength. Even if one of you could, the stress alone of making that extravagant adjustment would almost seem to be too much. Vox stared at your eyes, the expression of melancholy shifting and matching each other like a mirror. His frown stayed there for the longest time, the two of you unable to look away from the other. Eventually, he moved his hand away from yours and brought it up to your cheek. Your eyes widened, and his lips curled upward. Sad as his expression was, he still remained focused on you. In that moment, you were his world. Everything else burnt and flew away like the ash on the dusty plane of the Pride Ring. “Well, I have something to tell you.” Vox made his smile widen more. “You’re doing great. More than great, you— you’re fantastic! Always have been, always will be. Do you know why you’re tired?” You shook your head. He petted your cheek with his thumb. “Because you give it your all. You put so much into your work, love. Sometimes it even surprises me, and you know how hard I end up working.” He snickered as he saw you roll your eyes. He continued. “But seriously, I’ve never seen someone with so much drive, so much attention towards their work. People like you are what we need in the world— err, the Pride Ring, I guess.” Vox’s face scrunched up; sometimes even he forgot where he was, however that could be. “Sorry, giving compliments… pep talks? Its something I’m not good at. Yet I try, I try for you.” A beat passed, and he gave the most adoring look his screen could manage. “Because I love you. I’m so glad our signals reached each other.” You stared at him, almost gawking at his words. Then, your look of surprise splintered, and you sighed dreamily. You took your hand and cupped the side of his face, then moved forward to kiss him. He kissed you back slowly, his hand running through your hair. When you pulled away, Vox was blushing, and there were sparks between both of his antennae.

This was extremely, excessively, unwarranted. There were only so many instances where the weather changed throughout the Pride Ring. Most of the time, it was a rather dry and humid place to live in. That was especially true in the familiar Pentagram City, which rarely ever saw dramatic atmospheric shifts. It was an almost comforting normalcy to accompany the fast-paced, never-ending chaos that followed the city’s residence. To have that uprooted in place for the worst weather of them all? It very much displeased Vox, who had been staring out the window of your apartment for a good ten minutes by that point. You’ve watched the clock curiously whenever your eyesight wasn’t on your dooming lover. Hands behind his back, face obscured by his angle, you could and couldn’t tell what was running through all his circuity. Despite how close the two of you have gotten, there remained electrified skeletons that couldn’t be brought out of his closet. “I hate lightning storms,” Vox mused for the fifth time that day, with every passing one making you grow more concerned for his well-being. The lack of context behind his behavior made you anxious. Without knowing the core to why he hated this type of weather — especially with his insistence on calling it a lightning storm and not a thunder storm — you felt as though you couldn’t properly help him. You wondered if there was anything to be done if you did know the deeper extent to Vox’s trauma. “You don’t have to engage with them,” you replied in a gentle, welcoming tone. Softly you tapped the free spot on the couch you were sitting at, tilting your head should he look your way. Vox tensed and froze, likely pondering over your invitation. Then, his body straightened out, and his hands went to lean against the windowsill. Teal claws dug into the wood, but sparingly enough to not etch into it. “Ignoring it doesn’t make it go away, my dear,” he emphasized in a bitter tone. “The rain still pelts against the windows, the thunder still roars in the sky.” Although he was trying to leave the windowsill alone, his claws tightened on the surface again. “The light still strikes.” It amused you, how Vox oftentimes doted on the element of light to such a degree that one might think he worshipped it. He followed wherever it went, trusting in its prosperity so that he, too, may be blessed. Often late into the night, he would share hypothetical stories about becoming brighter, the brightest star in the sky. He wished to follow the light to become one with it, and then overcome it and make it his own.

The light was his own special kind of muse, and while he could bend and manipulate most, the natural nature of lightning was something he could not. You knew the lack of that power angered him, but that couldn’t explain his almost blatant… fear of it. Vox wasn’t scared of anything outside of it. What could it all mean? You deduced that you weren’t close enough to Vox to learn the answer behind that. Should he ever find himself comfortable or in a position where the conversation could no longer be ignored, you would be there with him. You’ve seen him at his worst, but you’ve seen him at his best, too. You’re still here regardless of all sides of Vox you got to see, and some story about lightning wouldn’t make you leave. It was up to your partner to tell the tale for both of you. For now, you stood up from the couch and joined him by the window. You gazed at his conflicted expression through the reflection of the glass. His sharp gaze splintered upon seeing you there, if only for a moment, before returning to a state of brooding. Carefully you wrap your arm around him, pulling him closer to your side. You rubbed his arm; he rolled his shoulder in response. “It just… doesn’t make sense,” Vox grunted, one of his hands moving from the windowsill to gesture towards the rest of the rainy Pentagram City outside. “These lands are supposed to be dry. There shouldn’t be any weather in Hell, or even Heaven for that matter… if they have storms. They probably don’t, since that’s supposed to be,” Vox’s hand retracted to make quotation marks with his fingers, “the good place, or whatever.” The same hand rose to rub against the side of his head, leaning into it with a scowl. “What’s even worse is that these bullshit storms are going to put a real damper on my broadcasts. How am I supposed to reach the rest of Hell if my signals get muddied? Where else would they find their entertainment? Themselves?” Vox barked a laugh and rolled his eyes. You snickered alongside him, the noise making him look back at you. You rubbed his arm harder. “Think of all that time they’ll have to stay away from you, love. It’ll make them antsy, desperate to return to watching TV the second they get the chance to.” Your hand moved up from his arm to his shoulder. It moved in turn with your touch, allowing you to trail your fingers up his neck. The hand went up to the side of his head, and then turned it to force him to look at you. “I know that boosted attention is to die for, baby. Its a high you’re not gonna get anywhere else.” Your head moved to give the top of his head a kiss.

“Uwha—” Vox stammered, a glow deepening on his screen. The rest of his body turned towards you, and you pulled him in with both of your arms. You kissed more of his head, and then down to the top of his screen. He moaned softly after every quick pepper of your lips against him. “For now, you’re just gonna have to get all that attention from me,” you whispered, smirking at him. Vox blinked, the pupils in his eyes having now changed into hearts. He let out an excited chuckle, nodded his head, and—

CRASH!

All of the lights in the apartment suddenly shut off, same with the rest of the buildings seen from the window. The only reliable light source the two of you had was Vox’s screen, which at the moment was covered by your top due to him pulling into you and hiding himself within your embrace. You hummed, and then Vox shoved you away, flattening out his vest. “That, did not, happen,” he prompted, making an X with his arms. You grinned at him, and then hummed again. “Mm, whatever you say, Voxxy.” You pulled away from him and began walking towards the kitchen. “I have some candles in here. Be a dear and help me out?” Vox stared at you for a moment before nodding and following you into the kitchen. After the two of you plucked some of the long candlesticks and other glass candles from the different drawers and drawers in the kitchen, you two set them up all around the apartment. One sat at each windowsill, some speckled across every one of the rooms. Most of them were set up in the living room, with a variety of smells and dust from the untouched candlesticks filling the air. You sneezed due to it, and Vox wiped your nose. With everything set up now, the two of you were back on the couch. Vox looked around the room, cuddled up close to you under the blanket both of you shared. He took a deep breath in, shook his head, and sighed deeply.

Agreeing to Vox’s proposal to become business partners had been the best decision of your afterlife. The two of you had only been working together for around seven months, but you two had known each other for roughly a year and a half. Some might argue that wasn’t enough time to connect with someone so profoundly as you did with Vox, but with him showing just as, if not more, affection, who was anyone else to judge? The way the two of you worked so well on your plans to further your shared control over Hell couldn’t be denied, and neither could the closeness you felt for each other. Passion built upon the passion both of you felt for one another was unstoppable in comparison to the rest of the seven rings.

It couldn’t have come to so much of a surprise when Vox presented you with the brand new office he’d acquired to “set up shop,” to use his words. The two of you needed somewhere to work that wasn’t either of your places, to stay on task and not lose yourselves to… distractions. A dedicated office would do the both of you more good than harm, and yet the building Vox so happened to pick out was one of the most prominent ones in all of Pentagram City. It was tall, and although it didn’t seem too spectacular on the outside, you knew it would soon have it all. Everything the two of you could ever dream and more could happen in this very office building.

Though, there was something about it being shown off on New Year’s Day that stuck out to you. Either Vox had only just secured the building, or he was waiting for today to present it. Whatever the specifics were, there were absolutely zero New Year’s gifts that could compare to this. You’d given him a quick kiss on the side of his face out of sheer excitement and joy before you ran towards the doors. Vox laughed lightly as he followed after you, matching in your playfulness as he unlocked the door and presented the lobby like a spouse does their married partner into their new home.

Vox bowed his body as his hand extended to the empty, yet quite large room. It echoed with each step and every little phrase that escaped either one of you, but the words bouncing off the walls further conveyed how they would settle once furniture and employees began filling the void. This was a similar nature for all the rooms Vox took you to, but the promise remained the same. Some of the rooms varied in size — one of them was big enough to entice Vox to offer his hand and twirl you all around — but their bare canvas was gorgeous. Both of you were ever-so eager in filling every inch in with paint.

The last place he had to show you was the highest story: the roof. He held the door open for you so that you could see the scene of Pentagram City without any obstruction due to his body. Unbeknownst to you, the gasp at the sight made Vox smile softly, his eyes lidding at his own, private viewing of your astonishment. He let the door close and walked beside you, pressing his hand at the small of your back as he guided you to the railing at the edge of the rooftop. It retracted to hold at the steel firmly, and Vox turned his entire body to look at you.

“So, what do you think?” Vox’s smirk shined in its typically cocky way, but the tone of his voice was much more reserved than usual. There was a with his lips you realized, after you stared at him longer than you should’ve. You smile gently, both in appreciation and in an attempt to ease his worries.

“Oh Vox, you’ve really outdone yourself this time,” you chuckled in a heartfelt tone, your smile growing wider. “I know we’ve discussed an office, or any place really, but this? I can’t help but wonder how many lights you had to switch off to get something like this.” The gentleness of your features shifted to match Vox’s confidence, which made him snicker with a shrug of his shoulders.

“What can I say? I told you we were going to be the best, so I had to get the best! The semantics don’t matter, really.” Vox then inched closer to your hand and took it into his own. “Still, is it perfect… enough? I mean, I can get you something different, something better if you—”

“No, my precious, its perfect.” You felt his thumb softly brush against your knuckles, making your cheeks redden slightly. “I love it, I love it immensely.”

Vox’s expression shifted from prideful to vulnerable, his eyes widening and his features going gentle. You knew that this meant he genuinely appreciated being given your approval, for this and for all things. The look on his face shifted after a few beats back into something smug and knowing.

“And I love you, starlight.” The hand at yours moved to trail up your arm with his nails, resting upon your shoulder. He squeezed it softly, affectionately, and showed you half-lidded eyes. You looked down at the hand and then back at him, unable to hold back a snort and a small fit of giggles. He squeezed just a little bit tighter.

“Hey, don’t laugh, I mean it! I picked this out with you in mind mostly.” This made your snickers stop, softening as he kept going. “Of course this is for the both of us, and I had my hand in being picky, believe me, but I just knew I couldn’t have somewhere that wasn’t to your standards. This building, this place, is going to be a brand new beginning for us, and so it had to be big, bold, bright!” Vox moved the hand to cup your cheek, nothing but love now on his features.

“Perfect. The perfect New Year’s gift, the perfect building, for the most perfect person I have ever met.”

You stared at him. You stared into his honest, red eyes, his almost-scared smile, and the tinted blue blush running across his screen. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, and you leaned in. It was a tender, chaste kiss. Vox’s hand moved further up your head as you brought both of your hands to his shoulders. Both of your heads tilted to accommodate one another, to deepen the embrace only slightly more. Soft, muffled noises escaped the two of you before you pulled away. You swore you could hear the faintest of whines as you did so.

Your smile widened as you saw his antennae sparkling with life and love, the blush on Vox’s screen more prominent. What a partner; you ignored the business part for now. He ran a hand to press against his face, and you could read him silently mutter “wow” to himself. The sight made you tut, and you looked back out at the blooming city of sinners.

“A new building for a new year… I think we’ve already won ourselves this year, haven’t we?” You flashed him a smirk that showed off your teeth. He stared at you and nodded almost dumbfoundedly.

“Yeah… yeah! Do you hear that, assholes?!” Vox yelled out to the rest of Hell. “This year belongs to us!”

And many, many years to come, you thought to yourself as you shook your head with a smirk as your partner continued preaching from his far-too high spot on the roof.