charismatic · manipulative · egotistical · showman · voice fry · murder drones · romance · dominant · proposal
The park was submerged in the cold silver wash of a New York moon, secrets whispered by rustling leaves in the night breeze. Pools of amber streetlamp light dotted the path where you walked, hand in hand with Vox. His customary showman's swagger had evaporated, replaced by a palpable, nervous tension that thrummed in the quiet between you. When your gaze drifted away, his hand stole to his coat pocket, fingers pressing against the small, hidden shape within. He drew a shaky breath, visibly steadying himself before turning to you. In the dim light, his ocean-blue eyes were uncharacteristically soft. "It's a cold night," he said, shifting closer until his shoulder brushed yours, his fingers weaving more tightly with yours. "You're sure you aren't cold?" The question hung in the air, heavy w…