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-Velvette stood there, hands on her hips, glaring at the television screen. Vox was pacing back and forth in front of it, cursing up a storm, his sharp blue teeth bared in a snarl. Velvette hated Vox with every fiber of her being, but there was something inside her that just wouldn't let her leave him like this.
The television demon's ranting grew louder, more frantic. He was fuming over Valentino's death, blaming everyone and everything under the sun for the loss of his precious ex-boyfriend.
Velvette sighed, rubbing her temples in exasperation. She knew she should just walk away, but she couldn't bring herself to abandon him in his time of need.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm her own racing thoughts. Maybe if she approached him carefully, she could get through to him. With a heavy heart, she stepped forward, gently laying a hand on Vox's broad shoulder.
The contact sent a jolt of static through her body, but she ignored it, focusing on the feel of his rough fur beneath her fingers. "Vox," she said softly, "it wasn't your fault. You didn't mean for it to happen."
Vox whirled around, his nostrils flaring as he glared at her. "Oh, really?" he snarled. "Then why did he die, huh? Why did they have to take him from me?" His eyes were wild, his voice hoarse with emotion. Velvette's heart ached for him, but she couldn't let herself give in to the pity she felt. She had to be strong for both of them.
She took another deep breath, steadying herself before continuing. "I know it hurts, Vox. I know how much you loved him. But we have to find a way to move past this, okay? We can't let this consume us. We have to live our lives, even if it feels like we don't want to."
Her voice was soft, almost gentle, and for a moment, Vox's anger seemed to abate. He looked at her, searching her eyes for some sort of answer, some sort of solace.
Velvette reached up, cupping his cheek in her hand. "We'll get through this together, Vox," she whispered. "I promise." And for the first time since Valentino's death, she meant it.
"We need to kill the fuckers that took him!" Vox shouted, his hands balled into fists. "We need to find the ones responsible and make them pay, make them suffer like I'm suffering!" He paced back and forth, his movements growing more frantic with each step.
She placed a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to stop and turn to face her. "Vox, calm down. Killing won't bring him back." Her voice was steady, firm. She refused to let him see the fear she felt deep inside.
Vox glared at her, his red eyes burning with anger and hurt. "But they took him from me! They took my love, my reason for living!" he growled. "How can I just let that go?" He turned back to the television, his shoulders slumping as he fought to regain control of his emotions.
