#e. vox

[sinnersmarch-a]

"It's really not as bad as it looks." || Vin to Vox || @tangledfate

Vox stared at him. He isn't necessarily a shrinking violet before him, but he's purple enough to be. Doesn't match his demeanor, though he's making a good effort at being-- shall we say benign?

They've been at odds lately. Obviously they haven't been fucking. Vox wants to ask who he did fuck. Someone had touched him, had left fingerprints and hand prints all over the Vox's things. And he's livid. He's killed for less than this. Go ask Travis how the blunt end of his cane tasted. Bones crunch easily under a strong foot or a sledge hammer.

Vox is vibrating. Something is sparking behind his screen and he can't help but light up a little brighter, teeth gnashing as he answers him.

"You're a whole different color, Vin."

[sinnersmarch-a]

"Plug or socket?" { Vin to Vox }

A devilish smile spreads across his screen as Vox spins around in his chair to look at the other. He doesn't get up right away, just looks at him with his fingers peaked, contemplating. Not because he hasn't already decided, but because he wants to leave Vincent in suspense for just a moment. Just long enough to build tension.

"Socket." he says at last, bracing himself on the arms of his chair to stand before striding toward him confidently, grabbing Vincent by the tie once he's close enough.