didn't move. The aura was familiar. . . Vox didn't need to see who it was to know.

❛ I was wondering when you'd come crawling back. . . Talking to yourself is unbecoming of you. ❜
⠀

his own personal Hell.

She was the reason he died. The reason why he was so angry and consumed with work.

Inside his office, he stood. Back to the door, eyes following the movements of his sharks. Today . . . Wasn't what he was expecting. A visitor.

The doors open and he *

⠀
Work, work, work. He was ALWAYS busy and had been since his death. It wasn't even a year before his rise to power - becoming the CEO of a well-known corporation. All thanks to a little deal he had made. Though, Vox didn't seem to think of it as such. This was a curse and he was living in *

✎|: credit yourself then 😤

this instead:

❛ What makes you tick? What exactly are you I think is a better question. ❜
⠀