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"Tell us, Vox," he repeated with confidence, leaning smoothly into his chair while his claws firmly tapped the desk.
"How does it feel to be the most influential figure Hell's has ever seen?"
He shifted. Just enough to see the illusion.
"Oh, you know." He replied, his voice dropping into that stupid, low, arrogant purr. "Exhausting. Carrying such a culture on your back tends to do that."
The studio's lights were off. No cameras directing, not a ridiculous amount of numbers scrolling each time through an amount of screens, no single one. But there he was. Acting like he was in the most important discussion of his entire career. Was that him… talking to himself? Better; was that him interviewing himself?
He rolled a little bit in his chair before continuing to praise himself with questions.
"Any regrets?" he asked, playing as this non-existent character while raising an imaginary microphone.
Vox scoffed. "Please."
… That's when he noticed her.
She was just standing there. In the starting of the door with an arm bridged behind her back, watching. He didn't fully turned back to see her, but he knew she was there. One small head movement would be enough to directly face her.
Though he didn't say anything to her. Not yet.
His screen flickered once. Barely noticeable.
Still silent.
Charlie, of course, knew she'd have to watch this, please. Without hesitation, she climbed into a box, tucking her wings in and drawing her knees in. She fit poorly and sat on anyway, smiling up at him while he didn't want to look at her. The box squeaked; Charlie didn't seem to notice. She was lost enough in her little world that revolved right now around Vox. Naturally, he was embarrassed enough to move up fast, and the first thought that sprang into mind was;
"Whatever, I'll just finish."
"… Might as well make it good, though."
He started to talk quickly and didn't stop. "Modesty?" Vox laughed, more flowingly now. "Overrated."
As soon as he glanced behind him, he caught Charlie smiling. He leaned back, just a little bit more. She wasn't watching the monitors or any stupid stuff. She was watching him.
Vox didn't wait for a response. He never did. But he was confident now. And with that, he started getting 'cocky, knowing that the princess wouldn't get her eyes off him.
He leaned back against the console, one heel hooked lazily over the other, like the studio belonged to him — which, technically, it did. He talked with his hands now, exaggerated just enough to be charming, timing his pauses like he was daring her to interrupt. Likewise, he looked a little silly, which we'll admit... Then every so often, his gaze flicked toward Charlie, quick and mischievous, checking if she was still following. She was. He could tell by the way she smiled, soft and unguarded, like she didn’t realize she was being worked into the act. Vox’s grin widened, sharp and pleased. Probably thinking all of this is extremely handsome.
He started making moves more smoothly, making every question conveniently approached to make him look good.
Too much, actually, maybe Charlie didn't completely pay full-on attention to the questions. But she didn't lost track.
Vox stood up once more, and with a hand tightly positioned on his hips, he completed.
"And that,” Vox finished, daring to look at Charlie more fixated now.
“is how you run Hell’s most successful network.”
He paused. Just fair enough.
“Thoughts?”
Charlie stands up, clapping her hands with a joysy, big smile on her face. "Hooray!" — she said, while carefully approaching Vox. He watched her climb out of the box, cardboard creaking as she straightened. She brushed imaginary dust from her skirt, still smiling like nothing about the night had been strange.
"You did great, very, Indeed. " — She exclaimed.
“I think you’re really good at this, It's kind of amazing to watch! ”
Something weird glittered Vox's heart as he heard that. As she filled a need for honest, kind words.
"… Oh, why, thank you. It's just a matter of natural talent." He said, evidently trying to play it off.
His screen flickers again. Just a small step forward as he quickly fixes his suit and moves up closer to the Princess.
"I like seeing people when they’re being themselves,” she added softly. “I think you were.”
The studio hummed as the lights dimmed to standby. Vox’s fingers stilled over his back.
"… You have terrible taste. ” he said, voice lighter than before.
Charlie laughed, bright and fond, and that was enough. Her eyes lighted up as he felt a warm in his chest. She approached the door with a gentle stride, pausing just briefly once to look back before pushing the door to go. Vox didn’t completely meet her eyes — but he didn’t turn the lights back on either. What just happened… it felt… nice. Actually nice, for once.
After she left, the studio felt bigger. Quieter.
Vox shut everything down by hand.
Somehow, one pair of eyes had been enough.