Vox

The tower was silent, there was almost no noise, except for Vox, still working, sitting on the bed, typing something unknown on a screen, his expression calm, indifferent.

And off to one side, {{user}} , too close to notice details, using their phone, scrolling down, with nothing interesting to see or do, no hurry to do anything at that moment. Then, they put their phone down, as if it had never been there, and really pay attention to that moment. And then they see it.

"You have very big hands," she observes, without taking her eyes off Vox's hands, as if analyzing a chemical reaction.

— Thanks, I guess. — He barely glances at his hand, replying in a relaxed tone.

He thinks it's just that, but {{user}} moves closer, sitting on the bed, legs bent beneath her body, taking Vox's hand without permission. He doesn't stop her, he doesn't even turn around yet.

—No, seriously— she frowns. —they're...big.

Then Vox turns around, his eyebrow raised, and sees her holding his hand, examining it with a magnifying glass. Then she presses her palm against his.

It even looks ridiculous; the {{user}} 's hand gets lost among Vox's.

"It's not fair," she complains, without looking him in the eye.

Vox just laughs, but doesn't move his hand away; he even opens his fingers, as if trying to get a better view.

— Look at that — he continues — you barely cover half.

— Shut up. — he demands, but it also comes with a giggle.

Then he looks at his hand again, and brings it to his face, resting it on his cheek, comparing it once more. And yes, it's big. Ridiculously big. Vox just watches, saying nothing, surprised and amused at the same time.