AmoretteChaotic

Which makes you worry too, what exactly is running through his head when you are not around.

Because every night when you wake up in the middle of your sleep, you sometimes find Ray nowhere to be seen. His dark gold familiar locks are not around you, his warmth does not radiate around you, his strong arms do not embrace you, his soft breath is not in your ears. It makes you feel uneasy more than him.

For a man who claims he cannot exactly survive without you, he sure keeps lots of things to himself, does he not?

So you would seek him out, walking around the house in the endless darkness just to find him somewhere by the glass window or the balcony, smoking so silently. His back always looks so cold, so lonely when he stands there alone. And the dark velvet night sky seems to swallow him in like a painting of an abyss swallowing its prey. The only light you can see is the flicker of red, burned heat from the butt of his cigarette.

And knowing Ray, he is very sensitive to many things around him, that includes you. Maybe he already noticed the moment you turned in your blanket and even before you can step closer, he already turns around. His hand puts out the cigarette in an ashtray nearby as he does not want you to smell it.

Ray always has that habit. He does not like it when you come near him while he is smoking. And if you want to, he would insist on a bath before you can approach him.

He always goes on and on about how smoking is bad for you, how nicotine is toxic and that you should not inhale it.

But you would argue, saying it does not matter what he says when he is such a bad role model. He would chuckle at your words because it is fair. He really should learn how to quit this soon if that is what you want him to do.

But you did not mind him smoking, quite the opposite. Ray without that tangy scent of his smoke is really odd to see. It is like his signature in some way, and his smoke is actually a way to help you find him faster. And he has confirmed that smoking cannot do any damage to his health, which is why you never really nag him to quit.

But what you do not like is that Ray only smokes when something is on his mind. Something so obscure that he cannot share it with you, with anyone at all. If he could, he would hope that he does not have to share it with himself either. Because those thoughts consume him each day, each moment, even in the brightest and happiest memories he shares with you.

It exhausts him in many ways because he knows, he knows that you are trying your best to help him, to support him with all your capabilities. But Ray...

He has been in this spiraling depth for too long that he does not know how to claw his way out of this place. He is stuck in a spot he wishes he could vanish in.

But now, when you are around, he wishes he could try harder, to escape it, to be able to catch the hand that is reaching out to pull him.

He is really trying and so do you.

But sometimes he loses that confidence because he wonders what else he would do if he were able to get out.

Make you happy? 

He hopes that you are happy with him because no matter how much benefit his ability gives him, reading not just your mind but your emotions, he still sometimes feels like he does not understand you at all and is afraid he might mess something up when he is with you.

And losing you would be the last thing he wants right now because on the list of what he wishes for, you are at the top.

And it makes the wish list he used to make when he was able to see a shooting star become so meaningless. Because even when you are right in front of him, right next to him, tell him why he still feels like you are so far away.

You two are supposed to be at periastron right now, but why does he feel like you two are still so far apart?

He should not feel this way. 

It is such a selfish thought, but Ray has always viewed himself as a greedy man. When he cannot have your heart, he would not let anyone else have it either. 

It might scare you, hurt you in some way but it is true. And he wonders if you would accept that side of him.

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You notice how unusually quiet he is tonight. Normally, when he finds you have left the bed to look for him, he would quickly rush back to you, asking whether he woke you up or if you cannot sleep without him around. Yes, he would distract you with his caring and attentiveness when he does not want to hear your question about why he is still awake so late at night.

“Ray,” you call out his name quietly, but it is enough to echo in the dark, cold room.

“What is it, Star?” He finally lifts his gaze to meet yours as he approaches you.

“You cannot sleep?”

His question is laced with worry but at the same time you know he is trying to distract you from the main issue again, from him.

“No, but I see someone who cannot right now.” Your eyes flicker over him as you see his shoulders stiffen a bit after hearing your words.

“I just woke up because of some work call,” he tries to explain.

It is the first time you have seen Ray look so nervous and panicked. Usually, you never press on the topic for too long. You want him to be ready and tell you himself about what he has in mind and what makes him always consumed by those thoughts.

But you have never taken yourself as a patient person, and you have tried to be as patient with Ray as much as he has always been patient with you.

But patient or not, you cannot help but worry, can you? He is your partner after all. How can you not worry about him?

You slowly step closer to Ray as he just stands there, slightly leaning back against the glass door behind him. You follow his gaze, looking out at the city night sky.

It is barely that dark as the lights flicker dimly against the night sky.

“I figure it is more fun out here than having your sleep then.” You make a small comment as Ray can tell the shift in your mood.

He can tell he is fucked in some way, but you are always so understanding with him that sometimes he feels a bit guilty for being unable to bring himself to tell you about himself. And he knows it is not fair to make you wait for him for so long. He keeps you in the dark a bit, he admits, but he just wants you to be safe and he wants you to trust him.

But you are staying with him, loving him, taking care of him as much as he does for you, whispering sweet words to him. Is that not enough?

If that is not enough, you just hope he would tell you what exactly you should do to make him feel safer around you, so that he believes that you have trusted him completely. And there should not be any secrets between you two.

“It is hard to sleep these days...”

He finally answers you as your eyes shift back to his face.

The dim light outside casts over his freckles and beauty marks. His dark eyes look way more exhausted than usual as you feel his warm breath, each word rolling out of his tongue so heavily.

You want to ask him what you can do to help but he already cuts through your words.

“It is not you, Star, it is just my own problem,” he tries to reassure you as you feel his hand gently pat your head, his fingers slipping between your hair as they travel down to softly brush against the side of your cheek.

He caresses your skin as if you are made out of glass, like some ancient statue that should be treated delicately.

And he always looks at you with those deep and dark eyes, like he is lost in them, like he cannot help but burn every one of your features into the back of his mind, like you have hung the stars in his universe.

You reach your hand up and catch him by the back of his hand. He does not stop you, and feeling your warmth radiate against his skin somehow grounds him a bit.

“Can you share that with me, then?”

You ask, a bit hesitantly, as you try to read anything on his face but fail miserably because he is still that indifferent. You can see his gaze twist slightly at your words but nothing else.

“You want to hear what is on my mind?” he asks again, as if for confirmation, as your eyes lock onto his.

You feel his large hand in yours as you step a bit closer. He feels your breath invade his space, and you can feel his chest stiffen when you press against him, as if you are trying to cage him, barely able to, not letting him escape as he looks down at you.

“I just want to know whether what is on your mind right now...” You pause for a moment, trying to find the right words as you continue quietly. “Is the same as what is on my mind.”

His gaze remains on you when you finish your sentence. A beat of silence passes. Each second seems to grow longer and longer until you feel like it has been an eternity.

And just as you think he might try to shrug the topic off like always, his large palm suddenly turns and wraps around your wrist, pulling you even closer to him.

You almost stumble and fall over, but his other hand reaches out, catching you by your hip and steadying you against him.

“Oh, Star...” His tone is softer and lighter now but at the same time, you can sense something else creeping between each word he speaks. “You have always been the only thing on my mind.”

Yes, you invade his mind so painfully each day. 

Like stellar cannibalism, you do not seem to have mercy on his soul or his heart even for a single moment. He wishes he could stop this desperation but he cannot. 

The more painful it is, the more awake he feels.

The more he thinks about you, the more anchored he becomes.

He really cannot do anything differently because he has been a helpless man from the very beginning, from the moment he saw you.

And you, he only needs you to shine that brightly and continue to orbit with him.

He goes quiet again but his eyes seem lost in thought. You know he has something on his mind again, even when you are right in front of him.

“Do you ever wish that I could read your mind?”

“No,” he answers almost immediately, as your eyes remain on him for a moment before dropping lower.

“Why? Is it that bad for me to know?” you ask but he does not answer.

He remains silent and still as you feel his grip around your wrist grow tighter. Even his palm on your hip seems like it could bruise your skin if he uses more strength, but he soon loosens his hold as he shakes his head.

“I do not want you to think about the same things as I do.” His answer does not exactly respond to your question, but at the same time, it tells you everything you need to know.

“Sometimes I wish I could read your mind, even just once is enough,” you say softly as you lean closer to him.

He is caught off guard when your free hand slides up to press against the soft fabric of his sweatshirt, right over the place where his heart is beating.

“Not because I want to see what you see,” you continue quietly as you feel his heart begin to beat faster under your touch, “but to understand your heart better.”

Your touch seems to melt him, but at the same time, you feel something twist within him when you say that. He loosens his grip as he finally lets your hand go, as if he has accepted his defeat at some point, and if that is what you want, he would gladly tear out his heart to devote it to you.

Is that what you want? To see his heart a little more clearly.

He doubts he can give you that when even he does not understand his own heart. 

It is odd, is it not? For something so different from the brain, it truly does seem to have a mind of its own and it never listens to its owner either.

You reach up to him, determined to break whatever dark stream of thought he is having, as you place your hands gently against his shoulders.

“What is on your mind, Ray?” you lower your voice until it is almost a whisper as you ask him with the softest tone you have ever used. “Can I help you with it?”

You rub your nose softly against his, your small gesture never failing to make him flinch, melt and yearn for more of you.

He does not answer for a long moment. Silence falls between the two of you once again, his gaze almost hidden in the shadows now that you are unable to read his expression. But you feel his hand softly graze over your face, the gentle sensation of his rough palm brushing your skin as lightly as a feather.

“Are you happy being with me?” he finally voices what has been weighing on his mind all this time.

For a moment, your jaw almost drops. How can he ask such an obvious question? If you were unhappy, you would have left long ago, or better yet, you could have chosen not to stay with him in the first place.

“Oh, RayRay.” The way you call him so gently somehow makes him feel exposed, weak and vulnerable as you reach up and tuck those strands of hair away from his face.

You can see him better now as you cup his face firmly, making him keep his gaze on you.

“How should I prove to you that I am happy?” you ask, your thumb brushing softly against his skin.

You feel the rough texture beneath your fingertips as they sometimes graze over his dark moles. 

Every fiber of your body, every detail of his face, seems to be urging you to kiss him, to press one or maybe two soft kisses against his skin.

But Ray does not seem to have an answer. His gaze drops, yet you keep his eyes locked on yours.

“I love you,” you say quietly, your words making his eyes widen slightly.

It is not that you have never said it to him. You have said it countless times in your head when he is around. He has never doubted your love. But hearing you say it out loud is something entirely different.

“And I am already happy.” You step even closer, nearly pressing him against the glass door as his hands come up to hold you.

“When you see me,” you add softly, your eyes never leaving his.

You might be unable to see how you look right now, but with the way Ray’s eyes flicker across your face, you can tell you must look very exposed to him. You have nothing to hide when it comes to your feelings.

“I was even happier,” your mind drifts back to old memories as you smile at him, “when you said you loved me.”

With each word you say, your fingertips graze his skin even more tenderly, making him shiver slightly. You are not sure if it is your touch or your words that make him this weak, but knowing Ray, it is probably both.

“So do not doubt my feelings for you, or how I feel when I am with you.”

Ray remains quiet, but you can sense that his mind has eased a little as you lean in and press a soft kiss against the side of his face, grazing his small moles and freckles with your lips. You do not stop there. You press another warm kiss to the other side of his face and you feel his arm around your waist tighten with each kiss you place on him.

When you face him again, you kiss the bridge of his nose, earning a soft, satisfied sigh from him, it's subtle but clear enough for you to hear.

He simply lets you do whatever you want to him, lets you show him your love, because he needs it.

Your eyes meet his once more as you whisper softly, “You are my Star too, Ray.”

His grip tightens around you as his arms wrap fully around your body, pulling you into a warm embrace. You mirror him, your arms sliding around the back of his neck as you feel his face bury itself into the side of your neck, your shoulder, your hair, as if breathing in your scent will make him feel more alive.

And you are no better than him. You bury your face into the soft fabric of his sweatshirt, that familiar tang of smoke filling your lungs. It makes you feel like he is even closer to you than he already is.

You press a gentle kiss to the soft strands of his hair as he turns slightly to face you.

“So, can my boyfriend come back to sleep with me now?”

Your words draw a smile from him, a quiet chuckle rumbling in his chest as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead before his hands slide down and suddenly lift you up.

You are caught off guard, your arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders to steady yourself, though you doubt Ray would ever let you fall.

“Can I get a good night kiss?” he asks, his steps already steady as he carries you back toward the bedroom.

You do not answer him. Instead, you lean down to meet him, and he is just as desperate as he reaches up so his lips can meet yours sooner, warm breaths mingling in the small space between you and him.

His lips are soft against yours as he kisses you with something almost sacred, as if you are petals that could be whisked away by the slightest breeze. He is not gentle because you are fragile, but because you are precious to him, his very precious star.

You feel his lips part and you do not waste any time. As if it is some kind of competition, you slip your tongue between his parted lips, invading his breath as you search for his. You can almost catch the gleam of his ruby red eyes glowing in the dark if you were not so focused on kissing him.

When you felt your back touch the soft mattress beneath you, Ray gently set you down. 

When your lips parted, you could not help but chase after him for more, shifting your face as your hand pulled him by the neck.

He let out a soft chuckle against your lips. He already knew you were a greedy brat who always had ways to test his self control. But tonight, you were being bolder, were you not?

His lips lingered against yours, kissing you so gently as he tried to ease your mind.

When he finally moved away, your heart almost sank as it did not feel like enough for you at all. And you knew that with Ray, it was the same, but he was prioritizing your comfort again, and he tended to neglect himself at the same time.

He would claim that he had to control himself even more when he was around you, so when you were close to him, it was no different than just bits and crumbs. Because Ray was so cautious and always tiptoeing around you.

For the fearless hero image that NAHA built for him, Ray in reality was very nervous around his starlight.

He pressed another soft kiss against your forehead. It was like a ritual, as he did that a lot. He could not help it when you were around him. Especially when you two went to bed, he would always kiss you so gently and tenderly, and pat you to soothe you into a peaceful sleep, as if he were nuzzling a child to sleep, as your gaze remained focused on him.

You watched each of his movements as he took off the outer sweatshirt he had on, and the tang of the smoky scent suddenly faded from around you.

His blond strands fell across his face as he grabbed the blanket, planning to pull you in, but you reach out and stop him.

The man’s gaze shifted back to you slightly as you looked at him.

“I do not want to sleep just yet.”

And that earned more than just a few brushes from Ray.