🫧

the fluorescent lights of the museum hummed a sterile, indifferent tune, a stark contrast to the sun-drenched memory searing the inside of his mind. rafayel stood at the back of the cluster of students, a breathing statue carved from grief.

watching you gesture towards the infamous glass case.

your voice, that familiar cadence he’d heard echo through lemurian palace halls and underwater gardens, now spoke of forgotten times and anthropological theories.

you, the dutiful employee, thought nothing of his visits — just a university professor having a preference when it comes to guides for his extracurricular hours.

just a recurring lesson about human and art, about it transcending time.

about art as communication and confirmation of life.

but for rafayel, this was so much more.

for him, it was a heavy reminder of what he lost. it was a slap in the face followed by a gentle caress. it was pain transcending time, hollowing him from the inside and deepening the void embroidered in his chest.

it was a blazing call that brought him back to the life he had before tying his soul to emcee.

a distinct section from your exhibit stabbed yet also healed, bringing him comfort, but also guilt — a piece of painted rock, extracted from the ancient city of lemuria, where two hand imprints were staining the roughness.

a slightly bigger print, whose webbing pressed harder on the stone, and a smaller one, whose shadow was smudged from jittering movements.

a drag path etched in the surface.

“so it's a female and a male lemurian?” one of his students asked, curious as always, wishing to know the story behind the exhibit.

wishing to pry his sheltered memories and shatter them right in front of his eyes, bringing them back to life in the most punishing way possible.

“yes, that is the general opinion of the researchers. but we shouldn't rule out other possibilities. just like us, the lemurians came in different shapes and forms.”

us — humans.

you said that word so easily, not even once identifying yourself with your previous descent. not even once remembering your life back in lemuria with him.

not even once realizing the smaller hand was yours.

“oooh, and were they lovers?” another student chimed in, suddenly excited about the two handprints and the brewing love behind them.

“that is a very good question, but also very hard to explain.”

it wasn’t hard for him to explain: you two were lovers. you were his partner, his muse. you were his whole heart that had to wither under the heaviness of a linkage between a human and a lemurian.

you don't remember the giddiness that possessed you when rafayel suggested to leave the mark of your existence on the rocks of lemuria. you don't remember how he helped you dip your webbed hand into the ink he managed to smuggle from an octopus.

as evidence i left there on purpose.

but he remembers.

he remembers your smile, the one you still have in this life, flashing him as you press your trembling hand against the stone. he remembers how you panicked because your fingers wouldn't stay still, voice pitching slightly higher.

he remembers how he had to hold hands with you — the ones you weren't using on the stone clasping beautifully at your sides — to give you courage and ground you in the present moment.

rafayel wishes to hold your hand again, to intertwine those web-less fingers with yours, to feel your skin on his.

and get reassured that your existence hasn't vanished. that you weren’t just a fleeting memory he has to abandon in favor of the cruel truth.

but you stuck to facts, ever the professional… and couldn't answer the student with certainty.

you just moved on to the next glass case in an attempt to reconcile the storm of chatter the unclear situation generated amongst students.

i dug my heels into the gravel.

“this, may serve as evidence…”

it does.

this final piece constantly blew the air out of his lungs, leaving him gasping for air. it made him zero onto the sloppy diggings he did back then —with the sharpest rock he could find that day — just so he can sketch your beauty in eternity.

for you to unravel.

that piece was the one he’d been dreading. yet also the one he always came back to see.

just so the tumultuous fire in his chest would calm down its fiery call for reassurance.

on the surface of the hardened piece, a series of crude, desperate lines had been gouged. not art, not really, but something rawer. a poor drawing of a female face, her features eroded by time and the harsh tools used to create it.

but the intention — the love — was unmistakably there. it was a frantic attempt to capture someone in permanence before it slipped away into evanescence.

“… for love. the artist felt the need to engrave her face into stone. the roughness of the lines indicate his struggles, but also his commitment to the piece.”

the sharp rock pierced into his skin that time, with every pressing of his palm into the stone. his hands had cuts and scratches by the end of the sketch, but it did not matter.

it was all worth it in the long run.

“she must have been very special for him.”

you were.

and you still are.

even if you will never know that.

•••

or?

“professor… rafayel, was it?” his whole body shuddered at hearing your voice directly address him for the first time, glasses almost slipping from his nose from the utter shock and excitement.

you were here. talking to him.

“y-yes, that’s correct, miss.” he stuttered to confirm his name, palms already sweating with the sudden surge of emotions that swarmed him.

you’ve never interacted with him before, so he has to keep his composure. he has to stay calm and collected, assume the position of a university professor — not the position of your long forgotten lemurian lover. he has to–

“care to join me for a coffee?”

“huh?”

“the coffee from the machine here is quite watery, buuut…” you explained in a lower tone, like a secret was shared between you two. you even leaned closer so the other attendees wouldn't hear what you said.

rafayel was about to combust from the proximity, face reddening.

“i-i would love nothing more.”

you found me.

©pearlescenthoney 2026. do not copy, translate, or claim any of my writings or works as your own.

a romantic dinner at that fancy place he loved, the one with the candlelight that made his dual-chrome eyes shimmer like a watery sunset. he’d been unusually quiet, his teasing remarks replaced with soft smiles and lingering touches.

and you knew why. you both knew.

valentine’s day. the one day a year the red string of fate revealed itself for a few minutes.

you’d been together for almost a year, a beautiful relationship with a man who was equal parts infuriatingly dramatic and achingly tender. he was an artist, a man who painted emotions onto canvases, a man who painted you into every corner of his life.

you’d fallen for him, hard and fast, and the thought that tonight might change everything was a knot of both hope and terror in your stomach.

“you’re thinking too loud.” rafayel murmured against your hair, his voice a low, soothing rumble. “i can hear you over the ocean.”

you smiled, tilting your head back to look up at him. his face was half in shadow, covered by the branches of a tree, but you could see the faint, anxious line between his brows.

“just nervous.” you admitted.

he hummed in agreement, his grip on your body tightening for a brief second.

“me too.”

a chilly breeze swept in from the calm waters, and you shivered. rafayel immediately felt it, his own body mirroring the quiver.

“dummy.” he scolded you softly, though his tone was full of affection. “i told you to bring a thicker coat.” he continued his reprimand, pressing a small kiss to your temple. “stay here. i’ll grab you one from inside.”

you nodded shortly, watching as he untangled himself from you and stood up. he looked down at you, a god of the sea in the moonlight, his violet hair ruffled by the breeze.

“don’t go anywhere.” he said, his voice lighter, but his eyes were serious.

a god of the sea reduced to a fragile human.

“never.” you promised, giving him a toothy grin.

he gave you one last, searching look before jogging back towards his secluded beach house, the one that sat alone on this private stretch of coast. you turned back to the ocean, gathering your knees to your chest, your heart hammering against your ribs.

you pulled out your phone.

23:57. three more minutes.

three minutes until you’d know if the universe, with all its ancient magic, agreed with your heart.

you took a deep, shaky breath, watching the bioluminescence in the waves. the seconds ticked by, each one a small eternity.

11:58.

your hands began to sweat, your body temperature spiking from the bundle of anxiety blocked in your throat.

what if you two aren’t soulmates? what if he doesn’t want you anymore?

11:59.

what if–

but then, the world went quiet.

it wasn’t a physical silence, but a cosmic one. the stars seemed to hold their breath as if they knew what was to happen.

you looked down at your left hand, at the pinkie finger where you knew, for this next minutes, a single, luminous red thread would appear.

and it did.

it materialized, glowing with an ethereal light that rivaled even the bioluminescence of the sea.

your breath hitched, a smile already forming on your lips as you turned, expecting to see the string lead you straight to the warm, bright windows of rafayel’s house, to the man who was your sun, moon, and stars.

but it didn’t.

your blood ran cold.

the string, vibrant and undeniable, stretched out not towards the house, but down the beach, curving along the coastline and pointing directly towards the glittering skyline of the distant linkon city.

it was a needle of light pointing away from everything you’d come to hold dear.

no.

the word was a silent scream in your mind. no, no, no. you jumped from the blanket, followed the string with tiny steps, hoping it was a trick, a loop, that it would somehow arch back towards rafayel. but it just stretched on, unwavering, into the urban maze where thousands of other people lived.

your true soulmate. a stranger.

not rafayel.

the ground felt like it was crumbling beneath you. all the fear you’d suppressed, you’d deemed impossible, came crashing down. and it wasn’t about fate, not really.

it was about him. about rafayel. he was sensitive, so deeply feeling. he wore his heart on his sleeve, and underneath all his bravado and playful arrogance, you’d glimpsed a profound fear of being left behind. he’d never said it, but you saw it in the way he’d cling to you a moment longer after a good day, in the way his eyes would search yours for reassurance. and now, you had the cosmic proof that you were, by design, meant to leave him.

meant to be left by him.

tears welled in your eyes, hot and fast, streaking your previously content face. you couldn’t breathe. you were frozen, a statue of despair, staring at the thread that was supposed to be a blessing but felt like a death sentence.

you didn’t hear the soft sound of feet in the sand behind you. you didn’t see him stop, his own gaze following the path of the string from his own hand — a hand that held a soft, warm jacket — out towards the city, and then back to your tormented face.

“cutie?” his voice was a broken whisper, and it shattered the silence.

you spun around on instinct, faster than you could’ve processed. rafayel stood a few feet away, the jacket dropping from his fingers, forgotten. the moonlight was cruel, illuminating the utter devastation on his face. he looked as if you’d already stabbed him through the heart.

he looked at the string, then back at you, his colorful eyes wide and glistening. he took a stumbling step forward, then another. and then, before you could even process it, his knees hit the sand in front of you. he didn’t care about the dampness or the grit.

he fell to his knees and then lurched forward, wrapping his arms tightly around your legs, burying his face against your thighs. you felt his whole body tremble.

“please.” he gasped, his voice thick with unshed tears. “please, don’t.”

you stared down at him, stuck in place by his arms and your own frail heart.

“don’t go.” he suddenly begged, his words muffled against the fabric of your jeans. “i know. i saw it. i know i’m not… i’m not the one. i know you have to go find them, your real soulmate.” he nuzzled more into your pants, continuing. “i know it’s selfish. i know i’m a horrible, selfish person for even asking you to stay.”

his grip on you tightened, as if he could physically prevent you from being pulled away by that glowing red chain.

“but i can’t.” he choked out, a sob finally breaking free. “i can’t let you go. the thought of you leaving… of waking up and you not being here… it’s worse than anything. i’ve spent my whole life waiting for people to leave, and i told myself i was fine, that i didn’t need anyone.”

“raf–”

“and then i met you, and you made me need. you made me need everything.”

he looked up then, his face streaked with tears and sand, his beautiful eyes red-rimmed and full of a terror so raw it stole the air from your lungs.

“i am begging you. be selfish with me. stay. i don’t care about fate. i don’t care about some cosmic plan. i only care about you. i love you. i love you so much it’s destroying me.”

his lips quivered, almost like the words stung him. almost as if voicing it all would only lead to ruin.

as if–

“please, don’t abandon me.”

his fear of abandonment, the one he’d hidden so well, was laid bare before you. and in that moment, the last of your own fear dissolved.

he wasn’t going to push you away. he was clinging to you.

a sob of your own tore from your throat. you dropped to your knees in the sand, your hands immediately cupping his face, your thumbs brushing away his tears even as your own fell freely.

“abandon you?” you whispered, your voice cracking. “rafayel, i was so scared. i was terrified that you would see this string and tell me to go. that you would think this changes how i feel. i was sitting here, frozen, because i thought i was going to lose you.”

he blinked, confusion cutting through his despair. “lose… me?”

“yes, you idiot!” you cried, a watery laugh mixing with your tears. “because you deserve a soulmate! and i was so afraid you’d think i wasn’t good enough because fate says i’m meant for someone else.”

he stared at you, utterly bewildered. as if he’d never thought you’d share his fears. “but… your soulmate… they’re out there…”

you shook your head fiercely, leaning your forehead against his. “i don’t care. i don’t want them. i want you. i only want you.” you kissed his forehead, his closed eyelids, the tip of his nose, each peck a desperate promise. “i was so scared you would send me away.”

a shuddering breath wracked his body. he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours, looking for the lie.

but he found only the same raw, terrified love he felt himself.

“you… you were scared i would leave you?” he asked, the absurdity of it dawning on him.

you nodded, a fresh wave of tears spilling over. “i love you, rafayel. i don’t care what some red string says. you are my home.”

he pulled you into him then, a crushing, desperate embrace. he buried his face in your neck, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs of relief. you held him just as tightly, your fingers tangling in his soft hair, the scent of his cologne and the sea anchoring you to this moment.

the red strings on both your hands, still glowing, now lay tangled together in the sand, forgotten.

you stayed like that for a long time, two mismached halves choosing to be whole, kneeling in the cold sand under the vast, indifferent sky.

when he finally pulled back, he looked at you with an expression of such profound, grateful love that it made your heart hammer against your chest. he reached out, his thumb tracing the tear tracks on your cheek.

“no more running.” he whispered, his voice raw but steady. “no matter what any string says. you’re stuck with me.”

you smiled, a real, true smile that reached your very soul. “promise?”

you raised your left hand, pinkie finger extended towards rafayel. with a small, breathless hum of approval, he mirrored your pose, bringing his own pinkie out to link it with yours.

effectively intertwining the red strings together.

“promise.”

the red strings were soon gone, vanished until next year.

but as you laid in his arms on the blanket, wrapped in the jacket he’d finally managed to put on you, watching the night sky sprinkled with shiny stars, you knew.

you didn’t need a string to see what was right in front of you.

©pearlescenthoney 2026. do not copy, translate, or claim any of my writings or works as your own.

“Cutieeeeeeee.” The voice was pitched high and whiny, vowels elongated until they lost all shape and meaning.

You blinked, turning away from the booths and stalls scattered around the plaza in front of you, and glanced at the man to your left. The mid-afternoon sun glinted off his short lavender hair, turning the strands into tendrils of violet flames. His eyes were equally luminous, a palette of constantly shifting blues and pinks and purples, and his profile was poetically perfect.

Usually. But right now, those fine, elegant features were twisted into the most petulant pout you had ever seen.

“Raf, what’s wrong?” you chuckled in bewilderment.

He’d been all smiles just a few minutes ago, when he dragged you to a food booth selling donut holes on skewers. He had bought half a dozen flavors and insisted on trying them before you, to “make sure they’re worthy of passing your sweet lips, cutie.” You’d blushed, swatting his arm, but allowed him to be your taste tester, and he dutifully handed you each skewer once they passed his very thorough inspection.

You’d thrown the last stick away less than five minutes ago, sat down on this stone bench less than two minutes ago, and now he was slouching there with his arms crossed, his lower lip jutting out dramatically.

“I’m bored,” Rafayel huffed as he tipped his head, exhaling sharply to blow a strand of purple hair out of his face.

“I’m sorry, who was the one who wanted to sit down?” you laughed. “I told you not to wear those shoes.”

You glanced pointedly down at his shiny, brown leather shoes. They were, admittedly, very handsome. And ludicrously expensive, of course. The high-quality leather was imported from another distant country, and the intricate patterns carved into the sides and across the top were done by hand, by some master shoemaker in a very remote village, who only made like five pairs a year, so they were insanely sought after.  

Rafayel had of course bestowed upon you this very important information when he came strutting into your apartment this morning, like a peacock. He’d done a whole fashion walk across your living room before whirling around and asking for your thoughts (and applause.)

You honestly told him they looked very nice, before reminding him that the two of you were planning to do a lot of walking this afternoon, and maybe it wasn’t the best time to test out a new pair of shoes.

He’d waved off your concerns with a flourish, but the pair of you had barely made it into the park before he’d thrown himself down on a bench.

“It’s not the shoes,” Rafayel still insisted, stretching his long legs out so he could admire them in the dappled sunlight coming through the canopy of leaves above. “Master Eldrin’s work is perfect, without flaw. Each curve rides the line between sensual and practical, and every stitch is strong, confident, unshakeable. The leather is so soft and supple, it feels like-- like warm buttered glued to my skin.”

“Gross. What kind of metaphor is that?” You wrinkled your nose but couldn’t help but smile at his— mostly— poetic wording. He was always such an artist.

“See? That’s what I mean!” he groaned, slumping further on the bench. “I’m so bored that all my creatively is oozing out of my ears, along with my brain.”

“Hmmm.” Tilting your head, you pretended to inspect the side of his face and neck, even reaching up to flip his hair out of the way. “I don’t see any brain matter…”

“Cutieeee, don’t tease me,” he whined and grabbed your hand between his agile fingers. “I’m seriously suffering here!”

He batted those multicolored eyes at you, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy.

“Alright, alright,” you chuckled, intertwining his hand with yours. “I don’t want my poor fishie to suffer anymore, so let’s go.”

You stood up from the bench, expecting him to follow, but he remained seated and frowning as he tugged you back toward him.

“Go where?” he asked.

“Uh…” You raised an eyebrow, glancing over your shoulder at the plaza full of booths. “To the art festival?”

“Noooooooo,” Rafayel groaned like he’d been mortally wounded and clung to your hand like it was the only thing keeping him on this mortal plane. “That sounds awful.”

You stared down at him incredulously. “What are you even talking about? You brought us here. You’ve been yapping about this festival for weeks!”

“Yeah, but that was before I saw how boring it is,” he said as he glared past you at the multiple vendors and customers winding their way through the stalls.

“Raf, we haven’t even reached the artists yet,” you tried to reason with him. “You got distracted by the food stalls.”

“They’re the only good things here,” he scoffed. “Actually, we should get some more donuts before we leave. The strawberry ones.”

“We can’t leave, we just got here,” you protested with a frown.

“I’m just trying to save you the disappointment, cutie.” Rafayel suddenly jumped to his feet, and he tucked you against his side like he was trying to shield you from danger. “Don’t look. Those flat, ugly colors and uninspired works will make your eyes bleed. Mine are stinging even at this distance. I don’t know how those people call themselves artists.”

A couple walking past at just that moment turned to give Rafayel reproachful glares, and you winced and mouthed an apology before elbowing your companion in the side.

“Ow!” he yelped and stared down at you with wide eyes. “What was that for?”

“For being rude,” you huffed, and before he could argue, you changed the subject. “Look, we don’t have to stay for long, but I don’t want to leave yet. I got all dressed up, and I rarely have time off, so I just want to have a fun, relaxing afternoon.”

“We can have fun on our own,” he insisted.

You arched an eyebrow. “Doing what?”

Rafayel blinked, and you could tell he hadn’t thought this far ahead, but he doubled down anyway.

“Whatever we want.” His smile was sly as he wrapped an arm around your waist, trying to reel you in, but you batted him away.  

“I want to go to the art festival,” you insisted. “So, unless you have an actual, better idea than that—”

“We can do a picnic!” he blurted out.

You paused, considering him. “A picnic?”

“The most lavish picnic you’ve ever had, Miss Bodyguard,” he added with that cajoling smirk you hated and loved in equal measure. “I can have anything your heart desires delivered right to us. We’ll have a whole feast, spread out on my private beach, and then we can just spend the rest of the day relaxing and having fun, as you wished.”

It did sound very tempting. You knew Rafayel would spare no expense, and the beach behind his studio was pretty, but…

“Hmm, as nice as that sounds…” you said as you half turned back to the art festival.

The artist made a choked, offended noise. “You can’t tell me a boring festival sounds better than that!”

“Doesn’t sitting on a beach, alone, sound more boring?” you laughed.

“Of course not!” he immediately shot back. “First, I wouldn’t be alone, I would have you, and your company is vastly superior to… theirs.”

He flicked a dismissive hand toward the crowd near the booths, but when your head started to follow, he caught your chin and guided your eyes back to his. He was also much closer all of the sudden, his crisp scent, edged in salt, invading your senses.

“And there are many things we can do besides sitting,” he continued in a low voice that made something in your belly flutter, and his eyes dropped to your mouth before flicking back up. “For example, we can lay down and work on our tans. Though, you may have to… shed a few layers of that admittedly very cute outfit. Just so you don’t get any weird tan lines, of course.”

Your face felt hot now, and it had nothing to do with the summer sun. You tried to come up with a response, but your thoughts were slow, sluggish, derailing completely when Rafayel looked at your mouth again.

A tiny smirked tugged at his own, and then he was abruptly stepping back and dropping his hand from your face. You swayed there, suddenly cold and off balance, but he just tucked his arms behind his back and rocked back on his heels, still wearing that damned smirk.

“We can also go swimming.” His tone was normal again, casual, almost innocent, but you knew better. Your eyes narrowed, but he continued talking like he couldn’t feel your glare. “There’s a reef not too far off shore. We can swim down to it, hunt for sunken treasure, see all the cute fishies. If you’re lucky, I might even show you my true, amazing, awe-inspiring form.”

You had to admit, that last part was tempting. He’d mentioned his other form before, and you were insanely curious. Depictions and descriptions of Lemurians were varied and highly contested. Rafayel said they were all wrong, too, but you could never tell if he was joking or not.

You’d asked, once, to see it, suggesting he use his large bathtub that could probably fit half a dozen people. But he’d just smirked and said he wouldn’t fit, and you’d quickly changed the subject to hide your intense blush.

So, needless to say, you did want to see his true form, but…

“C’mon, Miss Bodyguard,” his voice interrupted your thoughts. “What do you say?”

He stood there looking so very smug, so you felt a little pleasure in cutting him down to size.

“Mm, pass,” you said flatly, stepping around him and walking toward the festival booths.

Rafayel squawked behind you like a seagull, and you heard his long, leaping strides as he ran to catch up to you.

“Cutieeeeeee,” he whined again, but when you just kept walking, he huffed and darted into your path.

You tried to step around him a second time, but his long fingers caught your shoulders, forcing you to stop.

“Just give me one good reason,” he said. “Give me one good reason why this festival is better than my incredible, genius idea, and I’ll happily admit my defeat and escort you to every booth you want.”

You highly doubted that, but you decided to play his game.

“Fine.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “I want to go to the festival because there’s a much less likely chance I’ll drown.”

Rafayel blinked at you. Then blinked at you again. He was staring like he was waiting for something, and you matched his expression as you waited for his response.

“Is… that supposed to be joke or something, cutie, because I, uh, don’t get it,” he finally said with an awkward chuckle.

“It’s not a joke,” you huffed, squirming until his confused gaze.

There was a reason you’d never mentioned this before. He’d told you so much about himself, about Lemuria, and you knew you should have said something, but it always felt so ridiculous, and the longer time went on, the bigger the secret felt.

Now, there was nowhere left to run, so you took a deep breath and confessed.

“I can’t swim, okay?”

You were staring down at his stupid shoes as you spoke, and you braced yourself for his teasing. When the silence continued to stretch, heavy and unbroken, a knot tightened in your gut.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore, and you lifted your face, expecting Rafayel to be choking down a bout of laughter.

Instead, he looked… horrified? His eyes were wide, his face pale, his mouth half agape.

Your heart skipped a beat as you quickly glanced over your shoulder for the Wanderer that must have appeared, but there was nothing. Just the park and the crowd of festival goers moving around the two of you like a river over stones.

Frowning, you turned back to Rafayel, who still looked like he was going to be sick.

“Raf?” you asked tentatively.

He jolted out of his stupor, blinking rapidly as his eyes refocused on you. Clearing his throat, his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and when he spoke, his voice was a harsh rasp.

“If this is a prank…”

“Why would this be a prank?” you scoffed, fighting the heat in your cheeks. “It’s embarrassing enough as it is.”

“You… really can’t swim?” he asked as he stared at you intensely.

You shrugged, kicking at the ground. “I mean, I can kind of doggy-paddle for a while. Maybe like a minute. Does that count?”

Rafayel swayed on his feet like you’d dealt him a physical blow, palming his forehead and looking faint.

“This is…” he muttered and shook his head. Then he shook it more vigorously and straightened up, and when his eyes met yours again, they were twin aurora flames. “Nope, this isn’t right. This is wrong on an actual, cosmic level. I cannot abide this. My soulmate can’t not know how to swim, what kind of Lemurian would I be?”

He’d used this word before, soulmate. Most of the time, it was said in a silly, joking manner, like when you both got the same drinks at the café, or when your outfits coincidentally complimented each other without any coordination.  

A few times, though, he’d said it in quiet, private moments, moments where a joke didn’t fit, and he said the word in a tone you couldn’t quite decipher. He always moved on quickly when that happened, and you always found yourself wondering if there was another layer to the joke you just weren’t getting.

Right now was one of those latter moments, but before you could even think to question it, Rafayel grabbed your hand and started dragging you after him.

“Rafayel!” you protested, your shorter legs struggling to keep up with his clipped pace. “What are you doing?”

“We’re going home, and I’m teaching you how to swim,” he said with a finality that you’d only heard him use with people who had really pissed him off.

He didn’t seem angry at you, though, more the situation, which was ridiculous, but you’d long since accepted the fact that the artist could be more than a little ridiculous at times.

“Raf, it’s not a big deal—” you tried to argue.

“On the contrary,” he cut you off. “It’s the biggest deal ever. I can’t exist in this world one more day knowing you can’t swim.”

“A lot of people don’t know how to swim,” you huffed defensively.

“Sure,” Rafayel agreed as he weaved through the crowd heading to the festival, towing you in his wake. “But you can’t be one of those people. Not while I’m around.”

His tone left little room for argument, but you tried to carve some out anyway, feeling that old sense of dread crawling up your spine. 

“I-I don’t even have a swimsuit.” Okay, that was a weak attempt, but Rafayel had already reached the edge of the park and was using his other hand to call a car.

“I’ll order you a dozen to be delivered to the studio,” he said without looking up from his phone. “They’ll be there when we arrive.”

“You don’t even know my size,” you grumbled.

Rafayel pulled to a stop at the curb, and you stumbled before finding your balance. When you looked over at him, his eyes were skimming over you in turn. Slowly. Intensely. Until every inch of your skin was prickling.

As his gaze finally met yours, he smirked and squeezed your hand.

“Wanna bet?” he asked in that low voice that struck you low in the gut.

You huffed and turned away, trying to ignore the fire in your cheeks, and Rafayel chuckled under his breath.

Just then, a car pulled up in front of you, and Rafayel finally pocketed his phone.

“Here’s our ride,” he said, letting go of your hand to open the door. Then he bowed with a flourish. “After you, cutie.”

You scowled and considered high-tailing it back to the festival, but you knew it was a futile endeavor. When Rafayel got in these weird, intense moods, nothing could persuade him.

So, you sighed and marched forward, but you still shot the artist a glare as you slid into the backseat of the car.

“I still expect a picnic,” you said. “Several courses. With multiple kinds of dessert.”

Rafayel grinned, the afternoon sun dancing in his rainbow eyes. “Already ordered.”

~*~*~*~*~

“Maybe we could just—”

“Nope.”

“Okay, but what if—”

“Nu-uh,” Rafayel cut you off again. “You aren’t talking yourself out of this one, cutie. We already ate a delectable seven-course picnic, and we tanned while we let our food settle. I held up my end of the bargain, now you must hold up yours.”

“I never signed a contract,” you argued, digging in your heels.

“Your agreement was implied when you ate, hmmm, half a dozen oysters, several crab legs, those fried squid balls, the seaweed salad… oh! And three slices of cake.”

You scowled and crossed your arms, but the pose felt less intimidating in your new bathing suit. It was thankfully a more modest piece than some of the bundles of floss Rafayel had ordered, but you still felt exposed and prickly with anxiety. Your toes dug into the warm sand, like that could keep you anchored to the shore, but now the lavender-haired artist was tugging on your hands with that annoying, charming smile of his.

“C’mon, Miss Bodyguard,” he teased as he led you, step by step, toward the rock outcropping on the edge of his private beach. “I’ve seen you face down a horde of Wanderers without breaking a sweat.”

“Yeah, because I have a gun in my hand,” you deadpanned before glancing nervously over his shoulder at the approaching waves. “I can’t shoot the ocean.”

“I mean, you could, but the fishies wouldn’t be very happy,” he chuckled, but when you shot him another glare, he sighed and finally came to a stop at the base of the outcropping. “Okay, seriously. Why are you so worried?”

“I…” You mouth opened, but nothing came out. Swallowing tightly, you tried again as your hands tightened around his. “I don’t like being in situations I haven’t prepared extensively for. And the ocean is dangerous. One wrong move, and…”

Your voice trailed off as your eyes darted to the waves crashing against the rocks, but then Rafayel shifted until his face was all you could see.

For once, his expression was uncharacteristically serious, and his eyes held yours steadily.

“The ocean can be dangerous,” he agreed. “But nothing is going to happen to you. I’ll be right by your side the entire time. Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do, but--”

“But nothing,” he interrupted. Then he saw your still uncertain expression, so he lifted one of your hands to his bare chest, pressing it flat over his heart and that strange tattoo he refused to tell you about. “I, Rafayel, son of Lemuria, vow that no harm will befall you in these waters. On my life I do solemnly swear.”

For a moment, you thought he was just being overdramatic again, but to your shock, his skin began to glow beneath your hand. Gasping, you shifted your fingers just in time to see the warm light fade into the dark ink of his tattoo.

“What… did you do?” you breathed, eyes flicking up to his.

“I made an ancient, unbreakable vow with the sea,” he said as his gaze bored into yours, and you suddenly felt like the entire world beyond his swirling eyes didn’t exist. “If even a drop of your blood is shed, my life is forfeit. I will dissolve into nothing more than seafoam on the waves.”

You gaped at him with horror, until his lips twitched up at the corners.

“Don’t worry, though,” he said in a lighter tone. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Making an offended noise, you ripped your hand away from his chest, only to bring it right back in a light slap.

“You jerk,” you grumbled. “I almost believed you.”

“When have I ever lied to you, cutie?” Rafayel laughed, but his smile was strange, almost sad.

Then you blinked, and he was suddenly catching your hands again, tugging you forward, and sweeping you off your feet.

“Raf!” you squealed as you instinctively clutched his shoulders. “Put me down!”

“No can do, sweetheart,” he said as he started to climb up the rocky outcropping with ease. “Can’t have you cutting those adorable little toes on these rocks! Seafoam, remember?”

“I’ll turn you into seafoam!” you threatened, struggling in his grasp, but he just pressed you tighter against his chest.

“Sure, but first you’ll learn how to swim,” he shot back as he crested the top of the rock.

“Raf! Rafayel!” You doubled-down on your struggling as he approached the sea-side edge of the outcropping, and your heart was pounding in your ears, fear metallic on the back of your tongue.

He finally came to a stop but didn’t set you down, and he said your name multiple times until you looked up at him with wide eyes.

“I-If you throw me from here, I s-swear—”

“I’m not going to throw you,” he said in a calm voice. “We’re going to jump, together.”

“That’s not much better!” You renewed your attempt at escape. “Do you know how deep that is? I’m going to drown! I—”

“You aren’t going to drown,” he sighed for the millionth time today.

“How do you know?” you snapped mindlessly, the animal in your brain screaming to run and lash out.

But Rafayel just smiled, slow and easy, with the salt-tinged wind ruffling his purple hair.

“Because of this,” he said.

Then he ducked his head and kissed you.

The touch of his mouth shocked you so much that you abruptly went limp. He’d always been touchy-feely, ever since you met him. He was constantly holding your hand, playing with your hair or fingers, tugging you into his side. He’d even kissed your cheeks a couple times when he was particularly excited, like when he finally figured out a problem he was having with a painting.

He had never actually kissed you, though, not for real. There had been a couple moments when you’d thought he might, but they were gone so quickly that you always told yourself you were imagining things.

Now, his lips were pressed firmly to yours. You could taste the strawberry frosting from the cake on them, feel their warmth against your own. That warmth traveled through your whole head, down your throat, and into your chest until you felt like you were swallowing the sun.

Then, as quick as he appeared, Rafayel pulled back.

You blinked owlishly at him, speechless in your shock, and his aurora eyes lingered on your mouth before rising up to meet your own.

“I imagined that going a little differently,” he murmured nonsensically, and he was so close still, his breath mingled with yours. “But… I’m not complaining. Now, hold on.”

“W-What?” you asked as your synapses started firing again.

Rafayel grinned, and without saying another word, he sprinted forward the final distance and jumped off the outcropping, with you in his arms.

Your shriek was snatched away by the wind, and you barely had time to panic before you hit the water. The coolness after the hot summer sun was its own shock, but it wore off quickly, and you instantly began to thrash.

“Calm down,” Rafayel’s voice sounded in your ear, slightly muffled but still perfectly clear. “I’ve got you.”

Your brain registered the words but didn’t pass along the message to the rest of your body. You continued to flail, surrounded in a mass of disorienting bubbles, until strong hands caught your arms and pinned them to your sides. Your legs kicked double time in response, but then longer and more muscular legs locked around your own.

The affect was instantaneous. You sank like a stone.

Panicked, you snapped your head around until you saw Rafayel’s face. Anger and betrayal warred inside you, but they faltered when they saw his smile.

“Relax,” he laughed, a few bubbles snaking out the corners of his lips. “Take a breath.”

Your anger overrode your good sense, and you opened your mouth.

“You idiot, I can’t brea—” You cut yourself off as realization struck you, but instead of choking on water, feeling the burn in your lungs as they filled, you felt… nothing.

Well, not nothing. Your chest still felt very warm, like it did when he kissed you.

Stunned, you looked down, expecting… well, you didn’t know what. But your body looked normal. It looked the exact same as it always had, except now, you were somehow breathing under water.

“Are we done fighting now?” Rafayel asked in a teasing tone.

You lifted your head and gaped at his still grinning face, and you fought against the instinct to keep your mouth closed to ask the burning question on the tip of your tongue.

“W-What… how…?”

“Lemurian perk.” Rafayel smirked as he finally let go of your arms, raising one hand to brush his thumb along the corner of your mouth. “It’ll last until we surface. This way, I can teach you how to actually swim, without you worrying about stupid things like drowning.”

You just stared at him incredulously, but when he moved to fully let you go, you flailed and clung to him like an octopus.

“Wait! D-Don’t go.”

“I’m not going far,” he chuckled. “But it’s a little hard to swim without using any limbs.”

He had a point, but you still refused to release him.

“C’mon, cutie, what are you still afraid off?” he asked, and while there was still a teasing undertone to his words, they were also warm with reassurance.

“I-I don’t know,” you admitted shyly, still trying to wrap your head around the strange sensation of talking— breathing!— underwater. You could feel the water entering your mouth, but then it just seemed  to… disappear, and you could talk normally, even if the sound was slightly muffled to your ears.

This was so weird.

Suddenly, a finger jabbed your forehead, and you jolted.

“Tell your brain to stop eating itself and focus on me,” Rafayel said with a mock-stern expression. “Your lesson is about to begin. Now, I’m going to let go of you, okay?”

He waited until you shakily nodded, and then he released his hold on you. It took you a few more seconds to do the same, but you finally let go, and then the two of you were floating opposite each other.

Nervously, you glanced up at the surface, which seemed so high above, and a twinge of fear wound through your veins again. But then you took a deep breath, reminded yourself you could take a deep breath, and the anxiety slowly faded.

In its place rose a quiet awe, and you turned your head in every direction to take in the sights you never thought you’d see. Distantly, you also realized the salt-water wasn’t stinging your eyes like it should, so you could see perfectly clearly, and you wondered if that was more Lemurian magic. You decided to keep your questions to yourself for now and just enjoy the crazy experience.

Most directions were nothing more than a blue wall, but on one side you could see a shadow in the distance, rising up from the sea floor.

“That’s the reef I was talking about,” Rafayel said when he followed your gaze. “We can see it later, once you’ve mastered the basics.”

“That basics?” you asked as you turned back to him.

The artist’s grin this time was full of sharp teeth, and you could have sworn his eyes flashed a glowing blue for just a moment.

~*~*~*~*~*~

To your great shock, Rafayel was a strict and exacting teacher. You’d never seen this side of the aloof and, at times, downright lazy artist. Normal Rafayel was practically allergic to any type of movement that could even be construed as exercise. You’d actually seen him go over a day without eating because he forgot his phone in another room in the studio, and walking thirty feet to fetch it and order dinner was “wayyyyy too much work.”

Swim-Instructor Rafayel was a different man entirely.

He had you running drills until the muscles in your arms and legs were nothing but gelatin. Sure, the fear of drowning had vanished, but now it was replaced by a fear of being stuck in the ocean until your kicking form was absolutely perfect.

Eventually, though, the sun began to set, and the already darker waters became too dark for your weak human eyes. When you swam into Rafayel for the tenth time, he finally sighed and said the lesson was over for today… once you swam up to the surface.

“I don’t think I can make it,” you groaned as you floated limply in the water.

“Guess you’ll be stuck down here then,” he said, starting to kick upwards.

“Wait!” You lashed out, grabbed his ankle, and dragged him back down, using the momentum to propel yourself up. 

Rafayel’s laughter floated up with you, and even though your limbs felt heavy as lead, you kicked your legs and moved your arms as the Lemurian taught you, and before long, you reached the surface.

It felt like you were inhaling ice when you sucked in your first breath, but the sensation quickly faded into a cool lull spreading through your chest. Your lungs still worked perfectly fine it seemed, which you were grateful for.

Wiping the wet hair out of your eyes, you treaded water like a pro, bobbing along the gentle waves. You grinned and looked around for Rafayel, eager to show him how well you’d internalized his lessons, even up on the surface.

But the water was empty around you, stretching out in every direction.

“Raf?” You frowned as you turned in a circle.

No response.

“Rafayel!” you called out a little louder.

Still nothing.

Just when you were starting to worry and about to duck your head back under the water, a splash off to the side startled you.

You turned in that direction… just in time to see a massive, purple-blue tailfin slip back into the waves.

Fear struck you like a lightning bolt. You’d barely seen any sea life all afternoon, just a few schools of small fish that kept their distance. You weren’t even sure if there were actually sharks in these waters, but that’s the idea your brain latched onto.

What if it had already gotten Rafayel? And now it was after you.

Your eyes darted to the shore, where your picnic blanket, clothes, and more importantly, your gun were still laid out. The strip of beach seemed impossibly far, but you might be able to—

Your thoughts were derailed when that fin broke the surface again, but this time, it was so close that water splashed into your face. You yelped, backpedaling in the water, and when you wiped your eyes, you saw a massive shadow circling around you, its radius growing smaller and smaller.

Every muscle in your body locked up, but before terror could completely seize you, that tailfin broke through the water again. It was right in front of your now, and as the sunset glinted off the purple, blue, and pink scales, familiarity struck you in the chest.

All at once, your fear dissolved, like the seafoam on the waves, and a smile broke out over your face despite yourself.

This time, when the tailfin slipped back into the water with another splash in your direction, you laughed, sucked in a deep breath, and ducked back under the waves.

Without the Lemurian magic, the salt-water stung your eyes, but you didn’t care. Your blurry gaze immediately locked onto the huge tail in the corner of your vision, and you spun and kicked as you chased it.

Muffled laughter reached your ears, and then that hazy, purple shadow whipped around, and suddenly Rafayel was floating in front of you with a grin.

He looked different, though, and not just because of the tail.

Ink or some kind of markings wove across his chest and up his neck, tangled with smatterings of scales in the same blue, purple, and pink hues as his tail. Small patches of darker blue scales sat under his eyes and across the tops of his cheekbones, like iridescent freckles. His galaxy eyes were mostly the same, but they seemed to glow with an inner fire that made you feel warm despite the cool sea. His ears were also elongated and ethereal, like fins fanning out from the sides of his head, and when movement caught your attention, you realized he had gills flaring on either side of his neck.

He was so beautiful that your eyes ached from more than the sea water.

As you floated there staring at him, though, a flash of uncertainty crossed Rafayel’s face, and some of the light glimmering in his eyes and on his scales dimmed.

You couldn’t have that, so you opened your mouth to tell him what you really thought…

Except you forgot you couldn’t talk or breath underwater currently, and all you succeeded in doing was sucking in a mouthful of water and choking.

Rafayel’s eyes bulged out of his skull, and his powerful tail propelled him through the water before you could even blink. His strong arm wrapped around your waist, and then he was dragging you to the surface, which thankfully wasn’t very far this time.

Still, you coughed and sputtered once your head broke into the air, and you would feel embarrassed if you weren’t too preoccupied hacking up salt water.

“Are you okay?!” Rafayel’s frantic voice broke through the cacophony of your coughing, and when you blearily lifted your head, you saw his worried face inches from your own.

He still looked so otherworldly, like something out of a children’s fairy tale, with his finned ears poking out of his wet lavender hair. The last rays of sun caught the scales under his eyes, and without thinking, you lifted a shaky hand to touch them.

The Lemurian flinched minutely at your touch, but when you shifted to cup his cheek, he relaxed slightly.

“Cutie,” he sighed. “Don’t scare me like that, I—”

“You’re beautiful,” you blurted out in a hoarse rasp, and when he blinked at you in confusion, you cleared your throat and tried to clarify your random statement. “That’s what I was trying to say, before I nearly drowned.”

“I told you, you’re not drowning with me here,” he grumbled as he clutched you a little closer, and you realized he was still holding you up while the pair of you bobbed along with the waves.

You also noticed that despite his petulant tone, a blush was streaked high across his cheeks, and to your delight, even his finned ears flushed a darker indigo.

“What’s wrong?” you teased. “You’re not usually one to shy away from a compliment.”

Rafayel pouted, his blush deepening, but before he could respond, you felt something brush against your legs. It was hard, solid, and a little coarse, and you glanced down to see his tail lazily waving back and forth in the water as it kept you both afloat.

You followed the hypnotic movement for a moment, but then Rafayel nudged your chin up with his finger.

“You’re staring, cutie,” he muttered.

“Can you blame me?” you laughed and shook your head. “You’re— I don’t know what I was expecting when you told me about your true form, but this… this blows every expectation out of the water. No pun intended. You’re incredible, Raf.”

“Really?” You’d never seen that tentative, earnest smile on his face, and you were seized by the sudden urge to kiss him silly. 

You nearly did, too, but then you reminded yourself that the kiss earlier had just been so he could share his people’s magic with you, nothing more. A kernel of disappointment unfurled in your chest, but you swallowed it down as you smiled back at him.

“Now you’re just fishing for compliments,” you scoffed as you lightly splashed him with water.

“If they’re from you, I’ll fish all day long,” he shot back with a grin before his expression sobered. “I, um… I actually haven’t shown many people this form. Not even Thomas knows about it. So I just… I don’t know.”

He trailed off with a helpless shrug, and your heart swelled with so much warmth that you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning up and pecking a quick kiss against his cheek. His scales were rough beneath your lips, but not unpleasantly so, and your mouth tingled as you pulled back.

“Well, I feel very honored,” you said honestly, and to lighten the mood, you threw in a joke. “Don’t go showing anyone else, so I can remain the only special person to witness this Rafayel masterpiece.”

His cheeks and ears darkened again, but a smile tugged at his lips.

“You got yourself a deal, Miss Bodyguard,” he said before his face took on a mischievous look. “But only if you beat me back to shore.” 

He made to let go of you, but in a déjà vu moment, you threw your arms around his neck and clung to him like there were suckers on your skin.

“Noooooo,” you whined. “I’m so tireddddd. Didn’t you say the lesson was done once I reached the surface?”

Rafayel smirked, but his arms slowly wrapped around you again.

“I guess I did say that, huh?” he drawled as his fingers drew patterns up your spine.

“You did.” You nodded smartly. “So, instead of Swim-Instructor Rafayel, why don’t you be Raft Rafayel and carry me back to shore?”

“Hmmm, you sure drive a hard bargain, cutie,” he chuckled. “But I am a gentlemen, soooo…”

As he spoke, his body suddenly shifted, and you yelped as you were lifted out of the water. When things settled, Rafayel was floating on his back, with you sprawled out across his chest, and his massive tail acting as a rudder as he steered you back toward the beach.

“How’s the weather up there, Captain Cutie?” he asked as he tucked both of his hands behind his head to act as a pillow.

His tail was so strong that he didn’t even need his arms to swim, and now you were the one fighting a blush as you tried to find purchase on his slick chest.

In an effort to not think any inappropriate thoughts, you sat up slightly, cupped your hands in front of one eye like you were looking through an eyeglass, and squinted.

“The seas be fair,” you replied in a terrible pirate accent. “And I think I see some treasure, just on that beach over there!”

You pointed to where the abandoned picnic blanket still lay, with an assortment of leftovers from your earlier feast, and after all that swimming, you thought you deserved a few more slices of cake.

“Mmm, I dunno,” Rafayel drawled. “I think an even greater treasure is much closer.”

You frowned and dropped your fake eyeglass, about to ask what he meant, but when you looked down at him, he was smiling up at you so softly that something in your belly flipped.

“I-I think my first mate might need to get his eyes checked,” you joked weakly.

His smile widened, and his eyes never left your face.

“Actually, Captain, I think I’m seeing clearly for the first time in ages.”

You blushed, swatting at him half-heartedly, and he laughed but stopped teasing you as he finished swimming back to shore.

Soon after, the pair of you were stretched out on that picnic blanket while the last rays of sun slipped below the horizon. As dusk settled over the beach, you finished your last bite of cake and turned to the man beside you. He’d traded his tail for legs again, though there had been a harrowing moment when he stepped out of the surf naked, and you’d squeaked and darted back into the studio to find him a new pair of swim trunks.

Now, the last of the sea water was drying on his chest, and your eyes dipped to the marking above his heart, the one that had glowed when he made his bogus vow earlier.

“So, is this a Lemurian marking, then?” you asked as you reached out, but you stopped just short of touching his skin, your fingers hovering a hair’s breadth away. “What does it mean?”

Rafayel turned away from the horizon and looked down. His face did a complicated dance, too quickly for you to name all the moves and emotions. When he looked back up at you, he was smiling, but you could have sworn there was a shadow of sadness hiding in the depths of his rainbow-colored eyes.

“Sorry, cutie,” he murmured. “But I’ve got to save some secrets for myself, or I’ll lose my cool, mysterious aura.”

You scoffed and pushed him away, but when he whined about being bullied after working so hard to teach you how to swim, you caved and let him pull you back in.

Somehow, you ended up laying with your head on his chest while he reclined back on the blanket and pointed out the constellations that were just starting to dot the sky.

With his heartbeat in one ear and his soothing voice in the other, you smiled as you traced a single finger over that mysterious tattoo.

All his feelings had been brewing the past couple months he had known you into a storm that was waiting to burst out any moment now.

"Are you okay, Raf?" You asked, concerned. The two of you had found solace in a quiet corner of the venue where Rafayel was wiping his sweaty palms behind him, cursing how hot he felt right now.

"I'm fine, cutie," He laughed shakily, glancing at you before his heart betrayed him once more, doing a weird stutter. You frowned, knowing he was lying, but decided not to pry any further.

What's even worse was that you were completely oblivious to the effect you had on him, chalking it up to Rafayel just being his normal, silly self.

Oh boy, you were dead wrong.

Tuesday afternoon when you were walking home from work, it started raining like crazy, going from a gentle drizzle to large drops that had you drenched in seconds.

Rafayel, of course, was the culprit, and was currently sitting on the floor contemplating his situation. His canvas and paint brush lay forgotten in some corner, as he was tangled up in a myriad of scenarios.

His mind went back and forth about confessing to you. An hour prior, he was just a tad bit nervous before it spiraled to utter overcomplication. What if you didn't like him back? What if you rejected him and you didn't want to be friends anymore? What if you laugh in his face? He'll have to move...yeah, he'll have to move from Linkon...wait...WHAT IF YOU WERE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE ALREADY-

You, on the other hand, jumped at the sudden clap of thunder that made you drop your phone on your foot.

Wednesday was even worse. The moment you woke up, rain pelted your window, the drumming of rain against your apartment building only intensifying as you made your way out, an umbrella clenched tightly in your fist.

"The weather is being silly," Tara commented, leaning against your desk, her brows knitted with worry. You agreed, and wondered aloud what was going on. It wasn't rain season, and the weather channel had nothing to say about it. In fact, all of Linkon was buzzing online about why it was suddenly raining all the time.

There were conspiracy theories about EVER coming up with some weather controlling technology, issues with Skyhaven and that it was affecting Linkon's weather, etc.

Then there was Rafayel who was sulking on the couch, muttering 'she loves me, she loves me not' dejectedly, unaware of the crazy conspiracy theories he had started on the internet.

He had awoken suddenly from a nightmare-one which where you had rejected him. The dream felt so real that it had put in him a bad mood, the storm forming quickly before he could stop it.

Rafayel was usually good about not starting, you know, severe storms, but when it came to you all control was lost.

He cursed at how strong the storm was, but his mind was such a swirl of emotions that he couldn't calm it down. He needed you to calm down, but at the same time if he saw you, he would spiral even more.

In fact, he's been avoiding your texts all day, something that made you increasingly worried as the day went on. Rafayel never ignored your texts. Never.

Rafayel felt guilty, but he felt like he needed to sort out his thoughts first before he could function properly around you again.

Thursday morning it's eerily calm. When you woke up, you expected to hear rain again, but was greeted with a disturbing silence that only came before a massive storm.

You went to work as usual and anticipated the storm, your umbrella packed just in case, but it never came. You said goodbye to Tara, Xavier, Nero, and your other coworkers before heading out.

You texted Rafayel once more, asking if he was okay. Something deep inside of you felt like the storms were connected to Rafayel, but that was silly! Right..?

"Tomorrow..." Rafayel mumbled incoherently, pacing his living room again, his hair a ruffled mess as a kept running a hand through it. He hadn't slept at all and his brain was running a million thoughts per second. He was going to do it tomorrow. He was going to tell you how he felt.

His stomach twisted-from excitement or anxiety he honestly couldn't tell-and he had to grab onto the back of the couch to steady himself. Why did he feel so nauseous?! It was you...it was just you...why was he so nervous?

Because she's perfect.

Because I don't want to fuck it all up.

Because I love her too much.

He groaned into his hands, his chest heaving as he tried to calm himself down. He had it all planned out. He would catch you on your walk home from work, lead you to that romantic spot on the bridge overlooking the river and ask you out. Yes, he had it all meticulously planned down to his outfit and speech and-

Beep!

He gasped at the sudden noise, his eyes finding the lit up screen of his phone tossed carelessly on the couch cushions. He reached for it hesitantly, knowing that it was most likely going to be from you, his beloved cutie.

cutie: RAFAYEL ARE YOY OK??? cutie: its weird to not hear from you... cutie: why are you ignoring meee

His heart ached at the messages, his fingers hovering over the keypad before swiping away. He didn't trust himself to reply to you right now. He was scared that he would say something stupid, or worse, outright text 'i really like you and i cant get you out of my head' like a desperate loser...what would you think of him?

He needed to say the right thing.

He needed to come up with the right words.

He turned his phone over and sighed, his heart hammering wildly at the thought of tomorrow. All he had to do was stay calm until tomorrow. He could do that. Totally.

He had this in the bag!!

The following Friday morning, your phone issued a severe thunderstorm watch, a hurricane watch, flood watch, and a strong winds warning. You blinked blearily at the notification since you just woke up, and curled back into bed before your phone exploded with more weather advisories.

"What the hell," You muttered, finally swinging your legs over the bed and slipping into your fluffy slippers. You stumbled into the kitchen, still scrolling through the weather reports before receiving a text from Rafayel.

fish: i think you should stay home from work today fish: or not

You blinked. The ominous text only made you more curious. That was the first text he sent you all week!!

you: where the hell have you been you: what do you mean? you: are you ok?????

You waited a beat or two before rolling your eyes and went to get ready as usual. Whatever Rafayel meant would come to light anyways.

You pulled on your hunters uniform and watch and laced up your boots before heading out. You caught up to your neighbor, Xavier, and the two of you walked to work together.

The winds were strong, but there was no sign of rain yet.

Yet.

It was like the entire sky was holding it's breath.

"Did you see all those warnings?!" Tara exclaimed, greeting you with a cup of coffee. You mumbled 'thanks' and took a quick sip.

"Mm, stupid weather," You yawned, padding over to your desk. Xavier followed behind you, rubbing his eyes.

As you worked on reports, the building increasingly got darker, the clouds outside turning into an angry, dark gray.

When you clocked out, the sky was so dark that it covered the entire city in a looming shadow. The streets were nearly empty as you and Xavier walked home from the Association's building, umbrellas hand in hand anticipating the first raindrop.

The two of you made small talk before a tall figure blocked your path. Your eyebrows shot up at a very red Rafayel, his purple locks swaying from the wind. He was wearing a simple linen button up and dress pants, a typical Rafayel outfit, but there was something off about his expression.

His usual teasing smile was replaced with a very nervous one-something you've grown used to in the recent weeks, but he looked absolutely wrecked.

"Rafayel! Where have you been?!" You shot forward and grabbed his hands, unsure whether to feel angry or relieved. Rafayel's face turned an even darker shade of red, his mouth parting to say something but no words came out. His sunset eyes landed on you and then found Xavier who watched sleepily behind you.

"I'll explain everything," He managed to say, choosing each word carefully before he blurted out his feelings in front of your coworker. "I just-let's go somewhere else."

You blinked, absorbing his face and the way his eyes rapidly blinked. His ears were beet red and his lips trembled slightly. Whatever it was, it was serious.

"I-uh, okay?" You shrugged and looked over your shoulder. "Have a safe walk home, Xav."

"You too," Xavier replied, giving Rafayel a long look before walking off. You sighed, grabbing Rafayel's hand and nudging him forward.

"Well? Where are we going? You better hurry up-the storm will start any time now!"

"Okay, okay, just-" Rafayel inhaled sharply, the warmth of your hand in his was too much. How many times has he fantasized about being the only person you held hands with?

He could already feel himself losing the little control he had left.

"Rafayel..." You started slowly. The wind started to pick up. "Are you really okay? Were you sick?"

"I...something like that," Rafayel murmured, avoiding eye contact with you. He started to pull you towards the direction of the river bridge, his grip on your hand becoming slightly firmer.

"Why didn't you tell me?" You looked up at him, concerned. Rafayel didn't say anything, he couldn't say anything without breaking down like a fool in front of you. "Raf..."

The two of you now stood in the middle of the little river bridge that you had gushed about being 'super duper cute' in the first weeks of being his friend. The moment you had commented that, Rafayel was already formulating his confession at this very spot, and now it was really happening.

He wanted to giggle and laugh and scream and throw up.

Rafayel sighed, looking up at the stormy clouds, wishing it was a clear blue for you, but no-his emotions had gotten the best of him and now he was confessing to you on the brink of a hurricane.

"Y/N, I..." He looked down at his shoes, cursing inwardly. He's heard about you rant countless times about how you wanted your first confession to be romantic-yet he couldn't provide that for you. Not when his heart was a stuttering mess and his hands were all sweaty and his face was lit on fire.

Did he already ruin everything already?

"Raf?" You said gently, squeezing his hand. He froze in place, his eyes locking onto your interlocked fingers.

He was nervous yes, but he had never been so sure about something in his life than how he felt about you.

He was scared of rejection, but he feared a life where he never told you his true feelings.

It was you, the woman he slowly fell in love with that he wanted to be with.

A sudden wave of courage washed over his fear, words bubbling in his throat as he tried to find the 'right' ones-but he realized there were no 'right' way to confess-he just had to tell you how he truly felt.

And that was easy.

"I'm in love with you," He choked out. You froze, your heart skipping a beat.

"I...what?" You breathed, your face heating up when he finally looked into your eyes. His face was still flushed, but a new determination overtook his features.

"I'm in love with you," Rafayel declared confidently. At his words you heard thunder rumble in the distance, the wind picking up speed. Your mouth hung open, your brain short-circuiting at his confession. You blinked rapidly, looking elsewhere but him.

"Rafayel-" You gasped. "I-you're seriously confessing to me right now?"

Right before a severe storm?! This guy-!

"Yes. I am." He answered firmly, though his lips trembled. "Look at me...please." He added softly. You gulped and looked back up at him, though it was difficult to focus.

"Okay," You whispered.

"Y/N, I am deeply and madly in love with you. I can't go a second without thinking about where you are, how you're feeling, if you're happy-it drives me crazy," He let out a genuine laugh, a smile forming on your face at the sound. "I have so many sketchbooks filled with you that it's embarrassing-well, not really-but you get my point, yeah? I am enamored by you-you are my muse. The only person I see spending the rest of my life with. So I-well, I would really like it if I could be your boyfriend."

His words had you shocked, your brain absorbing the sweet and heartfelt confession as you struggled you form words. You've never been confessed to before, albeit so sweetly. You wondered the countless nights Rafayel spent thinking about it and suddenly had the urge to giggle. You knew it was inappropriate, so you settled on saying something else to him-

Instead, a laugh rang out.

"Oh my god Raf, it sounds like you're proposing," You smiled up at him, his bright eyes mirroring yours. "You could've just asked me on a date and I'd say yes, you big idiot!"

Rafayel felt his chest loosen with relief.

"So, is that a 'yes I would love Rafayel to be my boyfriend" orrrr..." His voice trailed off, a smile on his face because from the way you were grinning at him, he knew the answer.

"Are you kidding me?! It's a yes!! I would love to be your girlfriend!" You exclaimed giddily and lurched forward to envelope him in a warm hug. He sighed with relief, resting his head on your shoulder before allowing himself to slowly wrap his arms around you.

"Really? Oh, I'm so-" He couldn't even finish his sentence because you had leaned backwards to give him a quick kiss on the lips. His eyes widened into saucers and he was unable to say anything when you looped your arm with his.

"Wellll we really should get going home," You said teasingly. "Y'know, before we get swept away in a flood or something." Rafayel laughed, pressing a finger to his lips before glancing up at the sky. The darkened clouds were already starting to fade away, and you didn't even notice that the wind was no longer blowing.

"Orrr we could go on that date you were talking about," Rafayel said smugly, regaining his typical attitude fueled by happiness and the proximity of being close to you again.

"Really?! But-the storm-"

"I don't think we need to worry about that, cutie," Rafayel chuckled, his mood a stark contrast to how he felt when he woke up, all feelings of uncertainty replaced with the image of your smile, the warmth of your arms around him.

He didn't know why he worried so much in the first place!

"Let's just go home first," You pressed to which Rafayel did not disagree with. He also was bombarded with storm warnings when he woke up and did not blame you in the slightest of wanting to go home.

The two of you walked home together, the words of confession still fresh in your mind, continuing to bring a blush on your face. Rafayel, back to his usual antics, was quick to tease you again, a newfound joy in his heart now that you had accepted his confession.

He could nearly squeal at the new found relationship and was already planning an itinerary of dates and places he wanted to take you-though that could wait another day.

For now, he focused on the present, the you who was with him in this very moment.

Outside your apartment, while you and Rafayel were giggling together on your sofa, the storm clouds had completely disappeared, leaving a clear, certain blue.

The word feels different now from when you’re been living by yourself. Though you’ve always enjoyed the comfort of your own space before, sharing one now with Valko feels… warmer, and fuller, the rooms now always filled with joy. You suspect he had made it his daily mission to get you to laugh.

The sound of tires come from outside the house, a car door opening and closing, bringing you out of your musings. But, you don’t hear the jingle of keys nor the swing of the front doors. Instead, quick footsteps crunch on gravel and grass. The rustle of a tree’s branch, the flapping wings of startled birds. A soft grunt, then boots hitting the balcony floor.

“Does our front door mean nothing to you?” You tease, turning your head to see Valko toeing off his shoes by the door. He gave you a big happy grin as he hurtled straight towards you.

“Incoming!” is all the warning you got before he slumped over you, forearms scooping under your waist in a hug, his head slotting into the crook of your neck, lips immediately finding your skin.

“Valko!” The reprimand is softened by your laugh as you welcome his weight in your arms. A few pats on his head and his wolf ears pop out, a sign that he’s starting to ease away from the stresses of the day.

“But I wanted the shortest way to you.” He says, voice a little muffled. Sharp inhales are felt at your neck, your scent a balm to his tired body. “Mmn. I missed you.” His back rises with every deep breath, and you run your hand up and down his spine. His tail appears next, softly swishing around.

“I missed you too.” You kiss the side of his head. “But don’t deflect. Last I checked, the path from the front door to here is pretty short.”

“But it’s seven steps more than the balcony route!” He whines, lifting his head so you can see his pout.

“Did you actually count?” Giggling, you poke his nose. He crosses his eyes to upgrade that giggle into a laugh, smiling when he’s successful. Then he steals a kiss from your lips.

“I refuse to take itty bitty steps up the staircase when I could do two leaps up into the balcony. Now shh… let me recharge.” He nuzzles his cheek on your chest.

You hum through your smile, running your fingers through his hair, scratching behind his wolf ears, and feeling him relax as the minutes pass quietly. He sighs in appreciation. You could tell he’s had a long day, and you’re glad to be his place of rest.

“I’ll reheat your dinner, it’s just downstairs.” You blame it on the bond for how you always feel the need to feed him.

The wolf ears perk up. “Did you cook it?” He sniffs the air.

“Yeah, and I also made ch—”

The tail swishes faster. “Choccy cake!” He squeezes your waist and nuzzles some more. “You’re the best.”

To his confusion, you pretend an evil cackle before teasing, “Now you just have to take itty bitty steps down the stairs to get there.”

He groans, but pushes himself to stand up with a huff. “Not if I can just jump down the stairs.” He challenges with a grin.

Your eyes widen. “Val— no, no, wait! Hey!”

Too late.

A woohoo echoes outside the door as you scramble to catch up.

Why did you both decide on a house with stairs again??

Looks like his recharge is a fast charge, he’s just a bundle of energy! Come home, wolfie, there’s choco cake for you!

Let’s all manifest his return!!! ✨ Awoooo!!! 🐺

Divider by @diviniyae

“i know this is new for us, and i know that it’s scary. but i like to think of it…as a way for the world to show us how close we really are.

“whenever we’re apart, look up at the sky. look at the stars and any clouds left behind. then, look at the moon. look at its peaks and its craters, and every beam it shines down on us. and know that whatever you see, i see it, too.” 

as your words become images, flashing and fading in his mind, valko struggles to keep his eyes open. this is the last time he’ll see you like this for two weeks, after all, and he wants the memory etched there forever. but your voice has lulled him to sleep before, and he won't start resisting you now. 

“think of how much you'll have to tell me when you get home,” you whisper. “‘when,’ not ‘if,’ valko. focus on that. let when drive you forward. let when bring you back to me.”

──────

it’s been six days since your eyes last met.

now, on the top floor of a hotel in a city whose name is buried below thoughts of you, valko looks at the moon. 

he breathes one, two, three, four, just like you taught him before he boarded. 

then, he closes his eyes. 

he hears the low hum of the refrigerator, feels the friction of his suit jacket too tight against his skin. he smells the foreign air, crisp and clean, though missing something sedative. 

when he next opens his eyes, the moon looks a little different. a little more like home.

in it, valko sees you.

your strength, your brilliance, your persistence and perseverance. your miraculous existence, like you're too good to be true. 

if the moon is your essence, it’s your appearance, too. little by little, it reflects your face back to him: how it shines like your smile; how it has its own scars, like the ones fading on your skin. how it’s steady and calm, like your favorite expressions to show him. 

all its facets combine to paint a picture of you in the sky—one he now knows he can take with him anywhere. 

before, you'd told him that you see the same moon.  but when you look up at the sky at night, who do you see? does your moon look like him, too? 

do you see him in the stars, like he sees you? 

the mere thought brings a welcome feeling to his chest, one he thought he'd be missing for a few days longer. 

it’s warm, it’s weightless. 

comfort. 

valko never thought he’d feel comfort while being apart from you. 

but for the first time since he arrived, he turns his back to the moon. he feels safe doing it, knowing you’re there to watch over him with that soft, encouraging smile. 

and you, he hopes, see his face shining down at you, soothing you to a restful sleep.  

it had been raining horribly for days, and going outside was a questionable choice.

you were focused on your screen, watching a silly drama series while clutching a cushion, your eyebrows furrowed.

you truly needed the entertainment, or else you'd bore yourself after thirty-six hours of confinement.

“how dumb, why doesn't he just confess…?” you whispered to yourself, taking a sip of your sweet, warm tea without looking away from the unnecessarily heartbreaking scenes.

just then, you heard a knock on your door.

it was five past eleven, no one in their right mind would go out so late, let alone when it was raining like crazy.

you paused the series and went to your door with soft, hesitant steps, your eyes narrowing.

“...who is it?” you asked, not daring to open the door just yet.

a soft whining noise caught your attention, most likely a puppy's.

did someone abandon a pup on your doorstep?

oh gosh, who'd do such a thing?

you opened it immediately, and when you looked down, expecting to see a wet box with a poor little creature inside, you found a pair of polished yet soaked shoes instead.

“gotcha,” a voice echoed, making you jump and look up.

ah, of course.

valko, with a stupid grin on his face.

“you… what are you—?” the words died in your mouth as he stepped inside, drenched, water droplets falling onto your clean floor.

he discarded his coat and shook his entire body like a dog, not only making a mess, but getting you just as wet.

“valko!” you squeaked, covering your face in a pathetic attempt to protect yourself from the flying water.

he looked around briefly before sniffing the air, his nostrils flaring softly. he left muddy footprints all the way to the kitchen, his large frame looking out of place inside your cozy apartment.

you grunted under your breath, picking up his wet coat with the tips of your fingers, trying to avoid the small puddles he left carelessly behind.

he checked your pantry, then your fridge, his eyes slowly travelling around.

he only turned around when he sensed your presence behind him.

“you can't just come in and make a mess, valko!” you whined, crossing your arms over your chest. “what is this? why are you here so late? and… step away from the fridge, you're wet and you'll catch a cold!”

he straightened up and looked down at you.

“you don't have much protein,” he said, pointing back at the fridge before closing the door. “you need meat.”

you parted your lips to speak, then frowned.

what was this?

an inspection?

he kept walking around, and you followed despite yourself.

now, valko and you had… a thing.

you'd say it was casual, occasional.

you liked him, and he liked you, but you felt it'd be too rushed to invite him over to your sacred place, even though it'd been going on for months.

so, having him here, invading every inch as if he owned the place, was not in your plans.

he entered every room, analysing the furniture and your unmistakable scent.

he sat down on your bed, his large hands dragging one of your plushies over and holding it hostage against his chest.

that's when he finally addressed you.

“it's nice,” he nodded, leaning against the headboard. “it's big enough to have four or five pups running around.”

you immediately felt your skin turn hot, your eyes wide.

your heart almost gave out with how fast it was beating.

“v-valko?”

“okay, what about three?” he arched an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side. “and then three more when we move to my place. it's bigger.”

you finally had enough.

you stomped closer and yanked the plushie away, holding it close.

this man—

“you can't— you… first of all, you're getting my bed all wet! second of all, you…” you took a sharp inhale, closing your eyes briefly. “you can't just casually mention… c-children, valko.”

he looked down at the damp mattress before meeting your gaze again.

his fluffy ears emerged, and you hated when they did.

it was a vile tactic, a dirty move, especially when… when he made them go all droopy, and his golden eyes looked so sad…

oh, that sweet face…

no!

“stop, valko!” you turned around and closed your eyes. “bad boy, bad!”

seconds later, a pair of strong arms coiled around your waist, easily lifting you off the ground.

he nuzzled the back of your head and inhaled your scent, his tail swishing softly behind him.

“why didn't you tell me to come over sooner?” he asked, his breath brushing the shell of your ear.

you planned to squirm away and get out of his grasp, yet instead, you found yourself freezing in place.

you didn't expect him to ask that.

“why did i have to invite myself in?” he continued, his tone dropping even lower. “you didn't want me here, in your space?”

“valkie… isn't it too soon?” you whispered. “it's only been a couple of months…”

“soon?” he echoed, his fingers digging ever so slightly into your soft tummy. “it's been one hundred and fifty-seven days. that's five full moons, little bunny.”

your eyes fluttered, finally opening after a while. all you could see were your legs suspended in the air.

“we should be married by now. you, marked. me, claimed,” he nuzzled your jawline from behind, lingering there a little longer. “how much longer am i supposed to wait?”

“valko…”

“you keep saying my name. if you like it that much, use it to beg for me to make you mine.”

you gasped, his words making you feel a strange warmth in your chest, and a dizziness you couldn't explain.

he sat down all of a sudden, pulling you onto his lap. your back was against his chest, and he hid his face in your neck, as if it were his refuge.

you thought he'd grow uncontrollable, that you'd have to throw a cushion his way and make him calm down, that he'd mark you right then and there, taking what he saw as rightfully his.

but the seconds went by, slowly, and instead of the situation escalating, you heard a small whine, muffled and low.

his arms tightened around your body, refusing to let go.

“...please,” he whispered. “how much longer, bunny?”

your heart melted.

you didn't know if you were ready.

hell, you didn't even know if he was being serious about the six kids, and if he was, then you had lots of things to think about beforehand.

but the idea of being his, of being marked and claiming him as yours in return, wasn't strange.

you'd had a taste of what valko would be like as a partner for… a lot of days, as he so explicitly recalled, and you didn't regret a single moment spent with him.

“i… i'm not sure yet, valko,” you whispered, not daring to move an inch. “i can't give you a date.”

he sighed, and while you weren't looking at him, you knew his tail had dropped when you could no longer hear it thump against your bed anymore.

“but…” you continued.

one of his ears perked up with interest, his golden eyes now bright.

“but you… could stay the night. get to know where i live, and… explore my space.”

that's all it took for valko to stand up again, turn you around with ease, and pull you against his chest in a tight hug.

his tail wagged like a propeller, and he buried his nose in your hair, shamelessly taking deep breaths to carry your scent with him for longer.

“two more full moons at most,” he whispered, more to himself than to you. “no more.”

“valko, i just said—”

“i'll go clean up,” he kissed your lips, tilting your chin up with his index finger just to keep you in place. your eyes shut, and you instinctively returned the kiss, though it took you a few seconds to react.

when he pulled back, he brushed your lower lip with his thumb, noticing how it glistened with his saliva under the soft light of your lamp.

marked.

his.

“don't go anywhere,” he whispered, and that crooked, stupid grin came back to his face.

you were left speechless as he left your bedroom, his chest puffed out, and his fangs showing as he smirked.

you knew he'd take this as an opportunity to snoop around and mark his territory however he could, but instead of irritating you even more, you found it… somewhat adorable.

the rain kept falling outside, and your laptop had long since run out of battery, but you didn't mind.

the wet puppy now invading your space, checking whether you had enough food, whether your windows were secure enough, or whether your plushies were fluffier than him, was far more interesting than anything else.~

“valkie, where are you going?” you whispered, your hands clutching his bicep in an attempt to make him stay.

he turned to you, his head cocking to the left.

his warm palm came up to cup your cheek, and you immediately nuzzled it, leaning against his touch.

“it's late, bunny. i have to go,” he explained, his smile easy, but his golden eyes betraying hesitation.

you frowned slightly, looking down at the floor, only to lift your eyes seconds later and meet his again.

“yeah, but… you just came,” you insisted, your voice turning frail, almost desperate. “stay? a little while, please.”

his thumb caressed the soft curve of your cheekbone.

he couldn't stay; he knew it.

but he couldn't leave you alone, either, not when you were looking at him with those pleading eyes, clinging to him as if you needed his existence to keep breathing.

“honeybun, i wish i could, but…” he trailed off, his resolve growing weaker.

“please…” you mumbled, your arms now coiling around his torso. you nuzzled his strong chest, trying to commit his scent and warmth to memory.

if he was going to leave so soon, you wanted to take as much of him with you as you could.

he leaned down, his chin now resting atop your head.

his hands hesitated before resting on your lower back, pulling you closer to him, making your bodies almost melt together.

you whined softly and shut your eyes so tightly that you couldn't perceive the light or shadows anymore.

you didn't want to think of anything else that wasn't this moment.

you wanted to recognize him by his scent; his manly, musky perfume, so that when you were lost, you could find your way back to him with all of your senses.

you didn't notice you were trembling until he lifted your head, his expression soft but concerned.

he leaned closer, his warm lips catching a tear as it rolled down your cheek. valko lingered, the tip of his nose warm against your skin, his mouth pressed gently to your tear-streaked face.

how could anyone try to keep him away from you?

“valkie,” you sniffled, your hands travelling up his chest until they rested on his shoulders. “will you come back…?”

he sighed.

his lips left your skin as he pulled back, but he remained close, pressing your foreheads together.

“i won't need to come back,” he mumbled, his arms wrapping around your waist in a way that left little to no room for you to move. “because i won't leave, little bunny.”

your breath hitched.

you searched his gaze for any hint of deceit, or perhaps pity; a pity that would make him tell sweet lies as long as you stopped crying.

but those golden pools held nothing but resolve and tenderness; a mate promising his beloved he wouldn't dare leave as long as he lived.

he couldn't do it, he wouldn't survive if he left. his heart wouldn't make it if he didn't have yours beating close to it.

“you— really? you promise?” you whispered, your fingers gently caressing the smooth undershave at his nape, perhaps to ground yourself, perhaps to comfort him as well.

he kneeled right there in front of you, his chin tilting up so he could meet your gaze.

he took your hands in his and kissed each and every one of your knuckles. he then turned your hands over and nuzzled your warm palms, closing his eyes in pure bliss.

“i promise,” he assured, looking up through his thick eyelashes.

you cupped his cheeks and caressed his warm skin with the tips of your fingers, your eyes still glistening with unshed tears.

you traced the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows, his jawline, trying to memorize their shape, their texture, their softness and sharpness all at once.

it was almost as if you were scared of him disappearing.

scared of him going, scared of him leaving, and scared your mind wouldn't be able to recall anything you could hold on to.

he followed your hands with his eyes until he captured your fingers, pressing soft, wet kisses to them.

then, he stood up, towering over you in a way that never once felt threatening.

he picked you up in his arms with painful gentleness, treating you like the most delicate and fragile treasure, and held you against his chest, his body curling inward just to keep you surrounded by him.

his limbs, his scent, his breathing, and his clothes all brushed against your skin.

your fingers clung to him for dear life.

his long legs carried both of you to your bedroom, where he finally placed you down.

but you refused to let him go.

you stubbornly kept your limbs wrapped around his body, so he had no choice but to lie on top of you as carefully as he could, then gently roll the two of you over so that you'd be resting on his chest.

he lowered his hands until they reached the small of your back, and he pressed a lingering, soft kiss to your forehead the moment your pretty eyes looked up at him.

“i'm here, my bunny,” he whispered, his low voice rumbling in his chest. “i'm not going anywhere.”

no, he wasn't.

you wouldn't let him.

you shook your head softly and nuzzled his neck, sniffing his scent the way he taught you to; soft little sniffs to recognize where his scent was the strongest, then three long, slow inhales to take it in and commit it to memory.

the mix of pine, sandalwood, and the natural scent of his skin made you feel drowsy; the fear of him leaving replaced by his grounding promise.

you kissed the warm spot that brought you comfort, and let your consciousness drift away.

valko remained quiet, but he watched attentively as your eyelashes stopped fluttering, and your chest rose and fell calmly against his.

he nuzzled the top of your head and pulled a blanket over the two of you, almost as if to keep you both beneath a protective barrier the rest of the world couldn't break.

he knew not to make promises he could break, but… you were fighting so hard to cling to him, to remember him.

and if your heart, body, and soul were already memorizing every inch of his skin, he wouldn't truly be gone from your world.

ever.

he closed his eyes and buried his face deeper in your hair.

maybe fate would ask impossible things of him one day, maybe the world would try to pull him away.

but, if it ever did, he would spend every lifetime finding his way back to the little bunny who knew his scent by heart.~

You were currently sprawled on a plush, impossibly expensive velvet sofa in the middle of Valko’s penthouse.

As the sole heir to Eoncore Tech, Valko’s college living situation was less "dorm room" and more "billionaire's high-rise playground," complete with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city and experimental tech prototypes scattered across every surface.

"Okay, but listen, if we overclock the core processors on the new VR rig…whoa!"

Valko, who had been pacing excitedly while rambling about the latest tech he was working on, suddenly tripped over a tangled mess of fiber-optic cables. His arms flailed wildly, his glasses flying off his face as he plummeted toward the glass coffee table.

Before you could even flinch, Mei was there.

The female Alpha moved with terrifying speed, catching Valko by the back of his designer hoodie then hauling his tall, broad frame upright with one hand like he was a stray kitten.

"Careful, idiot," Mei grumbled. She didn't let go of his hoodie right away, eyes locking onto his flushed face.

"Ah... right. Thanks, Mei," Valko chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked like a massive, clumsy golden retriever who had just bumped into a glass door. He beamed at her, and the raw, unspoken Alpha energy between them felt so thick and intimate that you felt guilty just for watching. 

You sighed fondly, picking up your textbook. 

It was beautiful, really. 

Two incredibly powerful Alphas, one a grounded, protective force of nature, and the other a brilliant, obscenely wealthy, loveable dork. They were a perfect match. You were just lucky they let their token Beta friend hang out in their penthouse to use the ultra-fast Wi-Fi.

Mei finally let go of Valko and walked over to you. She silently placed a plate of perfectly sliced fruit on the table in front of you, a soft, almost imperceptible gentleness softening her features when she looked your way.

"Thanks, Mei," you smiled.

Valko immediately scrambled over, nearly tripping again, to drop a brand-new, unreleased Eoncore smart tablet into your lap. 

"I had the engineering team install that specific reading app you like! The screen adjusts to your retinas so you don't get headaches while studying!"

"Valko, this is worth more than my car," you said, staring at the sleek device.

"It's just a prototype! Consider it... beta testing," he said, winking proudly at his own pun.

You looked between the two of them. They had flanked you again, standing on either side of the sofa, looking down at you with undivided attention. Even without being able to smell their pheromones, the territorial, possessive aura in the room was suffocating. 

They were practically vibrating.

They must be getting ready to court each other, you thought. They’re so tense. I’m totally ruining the mood.

You closed your textbook and carefully placed the ridiculously expensive tablet on the table. 

"You know what, guys? I think I'm gonna head out. I have a lot of reading to do, and I really want to give you two the apartment to yourselves tonight."

Both Alphas froze. 

Valko blinked, his brain clearly struggling to process the statement.

"Give us the apartment?" Mei repeated, eyebrows furrowed. "Why?"

"Well, you know," you gestured between them with an encouraging smile. "You two have been circling each other for months. The whole ‘Alpha power couple’ thing is great, and I fully support it, but you don't have to keep pretending to hang out with me just to spend time together. You should just establish your pack already!"

Silence fell over the penthouse. 

Both Alphas stared at you then, they slowly turned to stare at each other.

"You think..." Valko started, his voice dropping slightly "You think Mei and I want to mate... with each other?"

"Well, yeah! You're always paying for our dinners, and Mei is always physically guarding us in public. You're constantly scenting the furniture around, which I can't smell, by the way, but I'm not blind. I know how Alpha courtships work!"

"We're scenting you," Mei stated bluntly, pinching the bridge of her nose. "We scent everything you touch so no other Alphas come near you. I'm guarding you. Valko is buying things for you."

You paused, your brain short-circuiting. 

"Me? But… but I'm a Beta."

"Yeah, a Beta that we are entirely obsessed with," Valko blurted out, his cheeks burning. He practically threw himself onto the sofa next to you, looking like a panicked billionaire puppy. "We don't want to mate with each other! I mean, Mei is great, but she terrifies me! We want you. We've thought of you as our mate since sophomore year!"

Your mouth fell open. 

"Wait. Both of you? But..."

"Did you really think," Mei said softly, sitting on your other side and boxing you in perfectly between their warm, solid frames, "that the heir to Eoncore Tech and I spend every single day following you around just to get to each other?"

"I thought I was the supportive third wheel!" you defended, your face flushing hot.

"You're the entire vehicle," Valko groaned, dramatically resting his forehead on your shoulder. "Please tell me you don't actually want to leave. Because if you do, I'm going to have to panic-buy the building you live in just so I have an excuse to be your landlord, and the paperwork is a nightmare."

Mei reached out, gently but firmly taking your hand, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. 

"Stay," she murmured, a quiet, possessive plea in her tone. "Study here with your pack."

ꨄ︎ a/n: i also don't remember if i ever wrote a purely fluff fic for other lis...

ꨄ︎ taglist: @seraphineash, @loreleis-world, @tinuvieloflemuria, @thehyperfixationgirly (if i missed someone who requested to be perma-tagged, please lmk and i'm sorry 😭)

likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated! hope you guys enjoyed reading!

“that’s cheating,” he hums, leaning closer to you as you roll your eyes playfully.

“fine, stay on your high moral ground. i guess ill just have to go home empty handed” you sigh dramatically, smiling as soon as his fluffy ears droop at your words, tail falling quickly.

there’s a low growl in valko’s throat as he closes his eyes for a moment, opening them and laser focusing on the game in front of him.

“I can control metal, this machine is metal, there’s no way i can lose,” the cocky smirk on his features makes you giggle. his chest is puffed out slightly, tail slowly wagging behind him.

you can see the metal claw change shape slightly, molding around the plushy as it wraps around it. and as quickly as he opens his mouth to boast, the plushy falls from the machines grasp and back into its original position.

“what?!” he barks out, yellow eyes practically glowing in frustration as he immediately swipes the game card again, using his evol once more. and coming up empty.

after the nth try you have to pull valko away from the arcade game, especially when he starts shaking the machine out of frustration.

“it’s okay val i didn’t want the plush that bad anyway,” you console him, patting his back as his ears are drooping on his head. your soothing words make his tail wag ever so slightly, ears peeking up when you slide your hand into his and pull his body closer to yours. “i already have the only cuddly puppy i could ever want,” your words make him grin softly, leaning down and pressing a small kiss to yours temple.

“‘M not a puppy,” he mumbles, eyes gleaming in adoration as you tilt your head back and laugh.

“okay tough guy.”

two days later you open your front door and see valko holding the cursed puppy plush, tail wagging rapidly behind him and ear twitching in excitement as he presents it to you.

“oh my god!” you squeal, taking the plus from his hands and hugging it tightly, “i can’t believe you got him!” valko smirks at you, shrugging his shoulders.

“you said you wanted it, can’t have my doll go without something she wants,” he leans against your doorframe, nonchalant demeanor immediately melting away as you throw yourself at him.

valko catches you instinctively, arms curling around you and face burying into the crook of your neck. you press a flurry of kisses to his face, eliciting giggles from the man. his fluffy tail is a blur as you thank him over and over.

when your feet finally touch the floor again, you’re pulling him inside your apartment. “when did you even get a chance to go? thought you had a bunch of meetings,” you pay the spot next to you on the couch, valko joins you quickly.

he hums in satisfaction when he curls up next to you, eyes fluttering shut as you card your fingers through his burgundy hair, scratching at the base of his ears.

“skipped them, if it’s important enough I’ll hear about it,” his words are muffled as he nuzzles his face deeper into your side, taking in a deep breath and relaxing at your scent.

“how long did it take for you to win the plush?” the question makes him tense up, and his tail immediately tucks between his legs. “valko…” your voice makes a small whine leave his lips, yellow eyes staring up at you begging for mercy.

“you love me right?” he asks sheepishly, afraid of being scolded by you.

“very much,” you reply, kissing the top of his head and scratching his ears. he melts into your touch.

“even if i bought the place and spent all day perfecting my evol to get your plush?” his tail wags slowly behind him, the shyest smile you’d ever seen paints his features. you can’t even be mad at him.

“my silly boy,” you chuckle, patting his head before cupping his cheeks and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. he’s on you immediately, body completely covering yours as he melts into your soft touches.

“i did good right?” his eyes are wide and pupils blown as he stares down at you, eagerly awaiting your approval.

“pfft you’re shameless,” you giggle out, pressing a kiss to his lips before pulling away and grinning up at him. “good boy valko,” you murmur, laughing when he peppers your face with kisses and soaks in your praise.

“so you’re a pro claw machine player with your evol now?” you ask, valko settling at your side once more. his eyes avert your gaze, you can’t help but laugh.

“i had to watch a video tutorial, my evol was useless,” he pathetically admits, burying his face completely into the crook of your neck out of embarrassment. you hold back your laughter.

“aw, my big bad wolf lost to the evil claw machine,” you coo sympathetically, valko lets out a high pitched whine.

“don’t be mean to me, doll” he mumbles, you can feel the pout on his face. you hold him a little tighter as you smile.

“i still love you all the same handsome,” you’re quiet for a moment before speaking up again. “should we go on a walk to cheer you up?” his ears perk up at the words.

“valko?” “yes?” “this isn’t an interview, you don’t have to have perfect posture” you giggle, he lets out a small laugh, shoulders no longer tense as he sits back in his seat a bit

once he gets over his initial nerves he slips into conversation with you very quickly !!! gets all your jokes and giggles nervously at the ones he doesn’t understand (laughs so hard after you explain them)

beginning of the relationship i think he tends to hide how badly he wants to be around you and how clingy he is

asks what ur doing and if you’re busy and then mentions how he has nothing to do later either … will keep mentioning it until you ask to hang out

“you can just ask to hang out you know? i want to spend time with you too” valko can’t stop his tail from wagging as he huffs and crosses his arms over his chest “pfft, i already know that” “silly pup” you giggle, smiling when his cheeks flush bright red

speaking of his ears and tail, at first he’s a little insecure and nervous as to what you’d think of them, but then you reach out and pet his ears and his heart melts and all his worries fade away

when you guys cuddle he likes laying his tail over you, snores very very faintly when he falls asleep on you and loves when you run your fingers thru the fur of his tail <33

if it’s cold he definitely puts his tail over you or if he’s alone he’ll curl up and cover his face/nose with it like an actual wolf :3

LOVESSSSSSS calling you nicknames and pet names, his favorites are doll/dollface, beautiful, sugar and baby <3 he will use silly ones also just to embarrass you in public like snookums, apple of my eye

he once called you his pretty little milk bone after you made fun of him by leading him into the pet aisle, you never went back to that store again

always has a soft love-struck look on his face when he’s around you, stares at you with all the love in the world no matter what you’re doing

getting ready? he’s watching with hearts in his eyes. cooking something? he follows your every movement with a dreamy sigh. taking a nap? he stares at you with a soft smile before curling up next to you

has the warmest sweetest eyes and is incredibly charming, big bad alpha wolf ceo is just a façade

valko is a velcro dog. follows you everywhere, the second you get up he does too, “where are you going? what are we doing?” once accidentally followed you to the bathroom and tried to play it off (you laughed at him and he let out a small involuntary whine)

lowkey resource guards you … HATES when he has to share you with other people but is always kind and understanding

if someone flirts with you or touches you he is very quick to step in and protect you, all 6’2 of broad shoulders and thick muscles flexing under his clothes, voice low and rough as his yellow eyes narrow at the other person

absolutely will snarl and growl is pushed hard enough, sharp canines on display and amber eyes almost glowing

you have to pull him away to stop him from tearing the persons head off, doesn’t let you leave his side for the next few days

gets jealous somewhat easily, abhors when you smell like someone that isn’t him. will rub up on you and cuddle with you, even licks at your neck and bites softly, only stops when you smell like only him

loves loves loves praise and reassurance from you !!! his heart races and he can’t for the life of him stop the giant smile that paints his features when you praise him, if he has his tail on display it wags so hard, you have to make sure he doesn’t break it from hitting the wall so hard

valko is so incredibly tender and gentle with you !!! is so scared of hurting you and touches you like you’re a porcelain doll, only after a while of you reassuring him and him trusting himself more is he less scared of hurting you

shows his love through physical affection and quality time !!! will place kisses all over you and laps at your neck, his sharp canines will graze of the skin but will never puncture your skin

even when you’re busy or doing your own thing he’ll have one hand on you or have your legs thrown over his lap, is content just sitting next to you while you focus on your own tasks, he’ll find something to busy himself with (most likely chairman duties)

brings you dinner all the time !!!! whether it’s something he cooked himself or bought he always knocks on your door with a shy smile and slow wagging tail and slightly droopy ears “do you want to eat together?”

makes you cute little metal trinkets from his evol, gets so happy and warm inside when he sees you displaying them in your home

LOVES being little spoon but will never admit it, although the blush on his face and wagging tail give it away. he does also enjoy being big spoon !!!! holding you tight in his arms and nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck <333

he likes knowing he’s protecting you from the outside world and ur safe in his arms <33

takes you to a forest clearing for a picnic, there’s a beautiful view of the moon and you jokingly howl at it, he wants to kiss you stupid

he is very Large and Buff and uses it to his advantage !!! picks you up when you’re being stubborn and pins you down when he’s at his wits end with your shenanigans

he also lets you do whatever you want to him 98% of the time, will fall over and whine if you hit him softly, lets you boss him around and does everything you ask with a smile “anything else dollface?”

loves when you get angry at him and actually take ur frustrations out on him and yell at him, he loves knowing you’re in tune with your emotions and you aren’t afraid to show them !!!!

has to bite back a smile when you’re scolding him for being reckless or stupid and youre shoving him harshly, palms hitting his firm chest, he barely moves an inch and he never complains

never yells or raises his voice back, just takes in all your anger and gives you space, when you’re in a better mindset the two of you will sit and talk things out, always ends with him taking accountability and you wanting to apologize for being harsh

“i never want you to apologize for having feelings, it’s nice to know you care so much i can elicit a reaction that strong” “you don’t think im crazy?” “getting angry is normal, don’t be a silly puppy”

valko is a good boyfriend !! please tell him so !!

some nsfw thoughts

gets hard when you praise him, will come untouched from just pleasing you and hearing you call him a good boy and telling him how good he’s doing

uses his evol to make restraints

when he gets jealous he fucks you stupid, until you’re only incoherently babbling his name, mocks your tone

“who do you belong to doll? who’s making you feel this fuckin’ good?” “y-you!” “y-you!! cmon dollface you know better than thaaat don’t you?”

loves leaving marks on you, nothing super insane or rough, but just enough that will be seen the next day and get the messages across. you belong to him, and he to you

loves when you bounce on it, becomes a pathetic whining mess underneath you and soaks in all your praises and degradations

“stupid puppy, not even all the way in yet and you’re already gonna cum?” he lets out a long high pitched whine, burying his face in you neck and biting softly

always asks you if he can cum, even if he has tears brimming in his eyes, he’d never disobey you :(

masterlist

you nearly trip as you round the final corner that separates you. but when you finally reach the room where his meetings are held, the hulking figure looming outside gives you pause. 

“you need something?” 

he’s one of sylus’s men—bruce, if you remember right—but you haven’t spoken to him much. surely, though, he’s seen you around?

swallowing thickly, you wring your hands out in front of you. “i was looking for sylus. i was hoping i could talk to him.”

if he notices the tremor in your body, he doesn’t say anything. “boss is busy right now. you can come back when he’s done.” 

when he’s done? 

“um…are you sure?” you protest weakly. “he usually doesn’t care if—”

“i’m sure, alright?” for some reason, he sounds exasperated. “look, this deal is important to us, and he doesn’t need any distractions. just wait for him to finish.”  

the words bounce in your brain. they feel wrong. you feel wrong. but if your presence ever sabotaged his work, you’d blame yourself for weeks. 

biting your lip, you nod once and turn on your heel, dragging your feet back to your shared bedroom. 

you’ve been hugging your knees for what feels like hours when the door creaks open. almost immediately, the scent of home fills the room, wrapping around you like the hug you needed earlier. 

“sylus?” you croak, pushing yourself up on the mattress. “are…are you free now?”

he pauses for a moment, then flicks the nearest lamp on its lowest setting. in the warm, reddish light, you see his elevated eyebrow. “what do you mean?”

“i know you were in a meeting. i almost went to see you, but the guard said i shouldn't disturb you. so i’ve been waiting here.” 

“disturb,” he repeats, like the word is foreign on his tongue. “you…disturb…me?” 

his head is angled to the side, like a puppy’s during its first encounter with the bathtub. you decide against telling him this, only nodding instead. 

as soon as you do, the shadows of snarl creep onto his face. “why were you coming to see me?”

“i was just anxious, i guess. it wasn’t that much worse than usual.” the back of your neck warms, and you scratch it nervously. “since you usually help me, i thought maybe you could this time, too. but it’s okay,” you rush. “i feel better now.”

he shuts his eyes, letting out a three-second sigh. then, he comes to the bed, sits down beside you, and tucks you into his side. “he’s fired.”

startled, you raise your head as much as his bear paw of a hand allows. “what?”

“the guard you ran into. he’ll be gone by morning,” he says simply. 

your heart hammers in your chest again—this time, out of guilt. “but—i’m sure it was a misunderstanding. he was only trying to make sure your meeting went well, and i could have come in at a bad time, and—”

the wry curve of his lips tells you he’s not convinced. “alright, sweetie. let’s say i keep him on. this first time, you’re upset, and he thinks it’s not worth telling me. what happens next, then? you’re hurt, and i don’t find out until it’s too late?”

he takes your silence as a sign to continue. 

“if you were in danger and someone kept you from coming to me,” he begins, voice dipping in with conviction, “i’d do much, much worse than fire them. consider this a blessing, sweetie. you’re doing the man a favor.”

you chew your lip and fiddle with your hands, unable to fully believe him. “i guess.” 

gently, he takes your chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting your head until your eyes meet. “i want you to see me anytime, no matter the reason. even if you don't have one. your problems are my problems, and my time is yours.”

you can’t hold his gaze for very long—you never can. but when you wrap your arms around his torso, he knows he’s gotten through to you. 

“good. now, why don’t you tell me what you were so anxious about?”

you stiffen against him, but only momentarily. “i don’t really want to.” 

he lets out a bewildered scoff. “hmm?”

“you’re here now, and i’m happy. i want to focus on that instead,” you say, shoving your face into his chest. 

he lets his body buckle slightly from the force, his rich chuckle setting your mind at ease. “alright, then. how was the rest of your day?”

a week later, a taller, bigger, much nicer guard knocks on the dark oak door. nodding your head in thanks, you enter after a moment’s preparation, and the mix of deep voices falls to a hush. 

the meeting is over. you know that as soon as sylus’s eyes find yours, softening from warmth and relief. “thank you, morgan,” he calls to the new guard. then, he cuts his eyes across the sleek round table. “i’ll have the room now. follow up in three days.” 

scraping their chairs against the hardwood floors, the other men nod their heads and clear out. once the door shuts behind them, sylus turns his chair toward you and pats his thigh. you rush into his open arms without a second thought. 

“hi, sweetie,” he murmurs into your hair. “what is it?”

heat rushes to your cheeks. you bite the inside of your left one. “i…”

humming inquisitively, he gives an encouraging squeeze to the side of your waist. “you…?”

“i…am bored.”

pulling back a bit, sylus examines you carefully, checking to see if you’re serious. when all you do is stare back at him, fighting the urge to cover your face, a snort builds to a wheeze, then to a bark of laughter. “and we can't have that, can we?” he teases, eyes twinkling like roses in starlight. 

sheepish, you shake your head and try to double down. “we can’t. my problems are your problems.” 

“they are. you’re a quick learner,” he rumbles, gently bringing your foreheads together. “how lucky is it that i’m bored, too? had that meeting gone any longer, i would’ve had to remove our honored guests from the base.” 

shifting on his lap, you squint down at him. “by kindly asking them to leave, right?” 

“something like that,” he replies, and you try to suppress the image of fifteen bodies being flown out the front door. “in any case, what should we do instead?”

“well, there’s this rainforest documentary i want to watch. or we could keep watching that vampire drama, or we could play that game i beat you at last time—”

“i have no memory of that.” 

“I do.” you steamroll over him. “or you could walk me through the armory again, or…”

as you spew out options, you’re almost oblivious to the way he maneuvers you in his hold. soon enough, though, you’re intensely aware of the kisses he scatters over your cheeks, stealing your focus until your lips tug into a frown. “you’re not listening, are you?”

“of course i am,” he whispers, hands roaming over your skin. “your ideas are great, kitten. it’s just…there’s no need to rush. why don't we start going down the list, say, an hour from now?”

you can barely nod before he pulls you into a searing kiss, any and all boredom going up in smoke. you don’t know how long you stay there with him, touching until your bodies blur together. an hour, two—you’re not sure, you don’t care. 

“Did you know I started this piece a year ago?” His words echo slightly in the now empty room. The lights pointing straight at the painting cast beautiful shadows across his face. You only hum in response, reading the title card next to the painting. 

The Sea’s Love.

“Good thing it sold for the highest then,” you joke lightly, still focusing on the painting ahead of you. Rafayel turns his head slightly, gaze focusing on you. 

“When I first started painting it, I was fueled by anger and frustrations,” he states, voice neutral as he continues to watch you. “I was so angry, I felt like I would never be able to feel truly happy, like I’d never trust enough to be able to love again.” Rafayel pauses for a second, eyes shifting back to the painting you were so engrossed in. “I abandoned it after three days of working on it.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, focus finally tearing from the art to the artist beside you. 

“You said you finished this in six days though,” there’s genuine confusion on your face as you continue, “and you said you were inspired by feelings of hope and love, not anger.” 

Rafayel hummed, a soft smile playing on his lips as he leaned closer to you. “I did. Somewhere along the way I realized I could love again, but it doesn't mean those negative feelings just vanished overnight.” 

“So your anger and fears, they still live alongside the way you love and devote yourself to whoever your beloved may be.” It was less of a question and more of an observation. You cocked your head at an angle, eyes tracing every brushstroke. 

“Exactly Miss Bodyguard. Love is like the sea, filled with beauty and serenity, but also storms and chaos. That's what love truly is, messy and heartbreakingly wonderful."

It was nice to talk to Rafayel when he was in his element and not making your job next to impossible. You smiled at the explanation, nodding your head and turning to look at him, his eyes met yours. 

“That’s nice, I like that.” 

“I picked it up again a month ago. I found new inspiration, one that invoked the more ‘positive’ influence of the painting.” He’s quiet for a moment, eyes lingering on you enough to make your face flush, “right after I met you, actually.” His eyes never left yours, and the last couple words make heat rise quickly to your cheeks. The room felt too hot all of a sudden, and you were quick to break eye contact first. 

“I think they’re about to shut the lights off, let’s get you home before Thomas tries to pitch you a commission for a sponsor,” you smile, turning on your heel and taking a deep breath. So he picked up his painting about love and the complexity of it after he met you? So what? It doesn’t mean anything, just a coincidence, a one off chance that will probably never occur again. 

Rafayel smiles behind you, watching as you wipe your hands nervously on your pants. You were flustered, cute. He takes one last glance at the painting, focusing on the middle right, where he’d hidden your initials among brushstrokes.

It was hard for you to say no to people. Even harder when ‘people’ was Rafayel staring at you with wide pleading eyes, and you were saying ‘no’ to an all-expenses-paid trip to Italy to visit his aunt for the weekend. 

“Miss Bodyguard, what if EVER gets me on the flight there? Or my stalkers figure out where I’m staying and kidnap me? I’ll be defenseless and all alone and you’d be none the wiser!” Rafayel gives you his best pout, and damn it was good. 

“Rafayel, I promised my friends I’d go to dinner with them already,” you sighed, guilt creeping in your chest as your mind ran wild with possibilities. What if something bad did happen to him? What if he really did need you there?

“Fine, when you see on Linkon City News that world-famous artist Rafayel Qi was found dead on the Italian coast, you better not cry.” He huffs softly before getting up from his spot on the couch, heading to his back porch as the sun begins to set. 

You frowned at his words, quickly following him outside. “If you’re worried about security you could always hire someone else! I’m sure anyone would-”

“I don’t want anyone, I want you.” For a moment a flicker of something flashes in his eyes, it leaves before you can place it. Your stomach flips at his words, and you have to remind yourself he doesn’t mean those words in the way you secretly hoped he did. This was a professional relationship. As professional as a pouting diva artist and overworked hunter-turned-security detail can be, at least. 

Rafayel leans on the railing that heads to the beach, chin propped in the palm of his hand as he scowls. He knew you’d feel guilty if he sulked for long enough, and sulk he did. “I’m sure my dumb seagulls will miss me when I’m dead in three days time, we never finished our final choir act y’know.” 

You rolled your eyes, pulling your phone out and sending a profuse apology to your group chat. You can’t make brunch Saturday, the job you took as a side quest is requiring you to travel for an event this weekend. 

“Watcha writing? You should look up caskets near us, help me choose one since I’ll be dead in-” you cut him off by flicking his forehead. “Ow! What was that for? You’re supposed to protect me!” 

“You are so dramatic you know that?” Rafayel can’t help but smile, knowing he had you right where he wanted you. “Stop smiling, you ruined my weekend plans,” you furrowed your brows at him, looking out into the ocean as the sun slowly sunk deeper into its depths. The oranges and pinks never failed to take your breath away. 

“I promise I’ll be on my best behavior Miss Bodyguard.” 

You were going to kill Rafayel. You had to find him first, but then you were going to kill him. This was poor foresight in your end, you had to admit. You really should’ve put two and two together when Rafayel took you dress shopping and picked out only items that matched his suit. 

“I thought you were just visiting?” You’d asked, zipping up the dress and looking in the mirror.

“Well yes, but she has this charity event she’s putting on, told me to come and support the cause,” he mumbled, eyes glued to his phone as he scrolled mindlessly on social media, he smiled when he saw your moments posts.

“What’s she donating to?” You asked as you smoothed the dress out, fixing your hair a bit and twirling to see how it fit. 

“Combating human trafficking,” he replied, it wasn’t a total lie. 

“Oh that’s nice.”

The sound of the curtain opening made him snap his head up. He thought his nose might start bleeding soon.

“What do you think? I feel like maybe it’s too much? I’m just security so I shouldn’t be flashy in the first place,” you slowly shrunk into yourself, Rafayel was quick on his feet. 

“It’s perfect,” he breathed out, his fingers ghosting over your shoulders, itching to finally touch your skin. It took every fiber of his being to pull away, he swallowed hard before shaking his head. “You’re my security, you have to look the part, don’t want you embarrassing me with a boring outfit do you?”

You shook your head, smiling slightly as you caught your reflection in the mirror. “It is really pretty, isn’t it?” Your eyes were focused on the detail of the gown, Rafayel was focused on the details of your face. 

“Very beautiful,” he agreed softly. 

“Miss Y/N?” The voice pulled you out of your haze, a nervous smile on your lips as you focused back on the woman in front of you. 

“My apologies, what did you say?” Your eyes shift nervously around the room, hoping to find the familiar purple haired man you’d arrived with. 

“How long have you and Rafayel been together?” The question would’ve been harmless, had you actually been in a relationship with the artist. You were grateful for the amount of training the association made you do on remaining stoic under pressure. 

So with a gentle smile you replied, “only about a month,” the lady cooed at you, going on about young love. The second your eyes met with Rafayel’s across the room, you quickly excused yourself. Rafayel smiled at you, then he realized your eyes were narrowed at him, his smile seemed to grow when you roughly grabbed his arm. 

“Where the hell did you go?!” You hiss at him, making sure your voice wasn’t too loud. 

“Miss me already cutie? I was just giving the staff my piece for the auction, doing my part or whatever,” he smiled at you, trying to hide how much he loved how angry you looked. 

“Okay first of all do not call me that,” Rafayel pouts at your words. “Second of all I’m here as your security, to secure you, make sure you’re secure. How do you suppose I do that when you run off behind my back?” You smack him lightly with your purse, hitting him harder when he lets out a string of ‘ow's that cause guests to turn and look at the two of you. Both of you give them convincing enough smiles to turn away. 

“Third of all, why did some random lady ask me how long we’ve been together?” 

Rafayel’s cheeks turn a hue of pink as you ask your third question, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips as he looks at you with the softest eyes you’d ever seen. No, stay strong. 

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry for running off. I just had to give them the canvas I donated or else Aunt Talia would have me gutted. I promise I won’t do it again cu- Miss Bodyguard,” he begrudgingly corrects himself, you thank him under your breath. “As for the last question, hypothetically, how angry would you be if I told my Aunt that you were my girlfriend and everyone accidentally found out? Hypothetically.” 

It wasn’t an accident, he’d asked Talia to put you down as his plus one, and next to your name on the guest list were the words ‘Rafayel’s muse.’

“Hypothetically you don’t pay me enough to fake date you,” you bite back, hoping he can’t see the flush on your cheeks or hear how fast your heart is beating. “Hypothetically,” you sigh out, pinching the bridge of your nose and closing your eyes for a moment before looking at Rafayel, “if you have a good enough reason for it then I won’t quit.”

“Well, if everyone knew you were my bodyguard they’d know to target you, and then without you I’d be a defenseless fish out of water.” You hate how quickly he replies, and you hate how much of a point he has. You can only grumble, muttering something about a raise before taking a flute of champagne, chugging it down, and slipping your arm into Rafayel’s. 

He pulls you closer to his side. You steal a glance at someone’s program, seeing that underneath the piece Rafayel had donated was your name, and next to it were the words ‘to my one and only muse.’ It must all be part of the ruse, the way he complimented you and stole glances at you throughout the night was just to sell the act. 

And when he takes the heels off your feet and carries you from the cab to your hotel room, you take it as him just being nice. The way his eyes linger on you for a second too long when you say goodnight at the door probably means nothing. 

You stare up at the hotel ceiling, repeating it to yourself until you can convince yourself of it. 

It means nothing. There’s nothing there. 

You wish the butterflies in your stomach and the thumping against your rib cage got the memo. 

Rafayel takes you into the city the next day, buying souvenirs for the two of you. His hand brushes against yours more times than you can count, you hope he doesn’t notice the way your breath catches in your throat. (he does).

When the two of you arrive in Linkon again you turn to say goodbye to Rafayel, finding him already looking at you. 

“I really enjoyed being with you this weekend,” his words catch you off guard, mouth slightly agape as you scramble to find the meaning behind his words. There’s no way he means fake dating you, that would never happen. You smile at him and nod in agreement. 

“So did I, I’ll see you around,” you reply, not thinking too much of it, you can’t let yourself. Before you can turn to hail a cab, his hand envelopes your wrist, his mouth opens slightly, like he’s going to say something. 

“What is it?” You ask, scanning his face for a moment and ensuring nothing was wrong. He’s quiet for a moment, still holding you in place. 

How does he stop you from leaving? How does he keep you with him for as long as possible? 

“Let me give you a ride home, airport cabs are way too expensive,” he finally says, his voice as relaxed as it always was. You want to punch yourself for thinking he would say anything else. 

“It’s okay Rafayel, if you’re that worried about my finances just give me a raise,” you tease, waving goodbye and easily slipping out of his grasp. You feel your chest tighten as you close the door behind you, letting out a small sigh. Fake dating for a weekend didn’t mean anything, him falling asleep on your shoulder during the plane ride was nothing. 

There’s nothing there, you remind yourself. You bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at the clouds, as much as you wished there was, there wasn’t. 

You needed to go out on a date. It was starting to get ridiculous. So you did what any sensible person does: bought bottles of wine and invited your friends over to curate your dating profile. Hours later through flushed cheeks and barely contained giggles, it was done. Now all that was left for you to do was swipe on whoever you liked and hope you’d match. 

It didn’t take long for you to realize that half the people on there only really wanted one night stands and nothing serious. With most of them starting off with terrible pick up lines and the rest jumping straight to “dtf?” You were seriously giving up hope, until finally you came across someone who actually struck up a conversation. 

Two weeks later you found yourself fidgeting with your outfit, changing for the third time and fixing your hair one more time. You jumped as your phone buzzed on your bathroom counter top. 

[incoming video call from Rafayel]

You answered on the second ring, phone still on the counter with only the top half of your head showing as you fixed your mascara. 

“Hey Miss Bodyguard wanna come over? I need your opinion on this art piece I’m working on,” he pans the camera over to a colorful canvas before re-centering his face, you can see his brows furrowing as he watches your actions. “What are you doing?” 

“Sorry Rafayel, I can’t today I have plans already,” you blink a couple times before finally feeling satisfied, fluffing your hair and grabbing your phone. “I don't think I'm qualified to give opinions on art, but I can swing by tomorrow after work?” You watch as Rafayel’s eyes widen, his mouth opens slightly as he stares at you. “Hello?” 

“Do I have an event I didn’t know about?” Rafayel questions, swallowing hard as he blinks rapidly, drinking in your appearance through his phone screen. God, you looked gorgeous. 

“No, no, just going on a date is all,” you mumble, embarrassed beyond belief as your cheeks heat up.

“A date?” Rafayel feels his world stop, blood going cold. 

“Yeah figured I should put myself out there y’know? It’s been a while and I’ve been- anyway whatever, good luck with your painting!” You smile brightly before hanging up. Rafayel thinks his phone might crack from how tightly he was holding it. You absolutely could not go on that date. 

You needed this date, you had to get over your feelings for Rafayel. Taking a deep breath you finally exited your apartment, locking your door and heading for the cafe you’d agree to meet at. 

When you arrived at the cafe you sent your date a quick message, telling him you’d be seated in a booth near the back corner. You tapped your fingers against the table, looking around the room as you checked your phone. It’s fine, people run late all the time. 

Ten more minutes passed, and you figured it wouldn’t hurt to order your drink while you waited. You stood nervously in line and glanced at the door with every ring of the bell, heart sinking when it wasn’t your date. The thumping of your heart slowly subdued, and you felt silly for getting your hopes up so much. 

With slumped shoulders you slid back into the booth, checking your phone one more time as you sipped on your drink. Nothing. The door opened again, the small bell on top of the door rang as your head shot up. 

It wasn’t your date. You sipped your drink slowly, opening your phone and staring at the last text your date had sent you. 

‘See you soon! :)’

It’d been thirty minutes already, you’d texted him with no response. Just your luck you get ghosted on your first date back on the dating scene. With a heavy heart and a bruised ego you threw your now empty cup in the trash can, stepping into the warm summer air and taking a deep breath. Maybe it was a sign.

You didn't move when you got in your car, staring blankly at your steering wheel for a moment. The sound of your phone vibrating made your heart rate pick up, quickly checking the screen. 

[incoming call from Rafayel]

You take a deep breath, muttering a small prayer under your breath before answering. 

“Hello?” 

“You know it’s terrible etiquette to answer your phone while on a date right?,” you can hear his teasing tone, it makes your stomach churn. 

“It uh- ended early,” you lie, “what’s up?” 

Rafayel grins at your words, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he places an ice pack over his knuckles, walking back to the couch. 

“I ordered way too much takeout, what are the odds you wanna swing by and grab some? We can put on that movie you told me about last week,” Rafayel adjusts the bouquet of flowers he got you during his side quest earlier. 

You’re quiet for a moment, this was definitely not going to help squash your bubbling feelings for the artist. But you were starving, and you didn’t want to wallow in self-pity just yet, not when your hair had turned out so nicely. 

“Did you finish your painting already?”

“I can work on it tomorrow,” he huffs out, “c’moooooon cutie, come over and help me finish this food, please?” 

“I’ll be there in 15,” you reply, biting back your smile as you shake your head and hang up. 

You unlock his front door with the key he’d given you, calling out to make sure he knew it was you entering. Within seconds he rounded the corner, a smile on his face as he greeted you, clad in a hoodie and shorts. The sight never failed to make your heartbeat race. 

“You look beautiful y’know,” Rafayel says softly after the two of you finish eating. You’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, your eyes are glued to the TV stuck on a loading screen. “He’s an idiot to not have realized what a catch you are, cutie.” 

You don’t have enough fight in you to protest against the pet name, you know he doesn’t mean it romantically. You're too emotionally drained to think about the fact that you never even told him how the date went

“Thanks Raf,” you say softly, had anything been playing he wouldn’t have heard it. 

“I’m Raf now?” The man grins, cheeks dusted pink as he repeats the nickname. You can’t help but roll your eyes at him. 

“Don’t make me take it back,” you groan as he scoots closer to you, leaning his head on your shoulder and letting a content sigh leave his lips. Maybe it was because you already felt vulnerable and Rafayel just so happened to be there for you. Maybe it was because he handed you a bouquet of flowers when you walked in the door. You don’t know why you say it, but you do. 

“I should’ve known better than to think I’d find someone on a fucking dating app,” you scoff, laughing slightly as your gaze settles in your lap. Rafayel sits up straighter, a sympathetic smile on his face. 

“Hey,” his voice is feathery, his touch even more so as he lifts your chin for you to look at him, “dating apps are stupid, I could’ve told you that for free.” He smiles, you can’t help but reciprocate it. 

“You’re amazing, you know that? Anyone would be lucky to have you,” his face is closer to you than you ever remember it being, “I would be lucky to have you.” There’s no playful undertone in his words and no pout on his lips as he stares at you. His eyes flicker down to your lips for a fraction of a second. 

“Rafayel,” you breathe out, eyelashes fluttering as everything becomes too much. What was happening? Could this mean-

The sound of the movie abruptly starting makes you jump, the sudden realization of how close you were has you clearing your throat, scooting away from the man you so desperately wish to be closer with. 

He almost kissed you. You almost kissed him. He was there for you after a terrible date, with flowers and your favorite food. Which could mean nothing, and for the sake of your already aching heart, you tell yourself it does mean nothing. Because it was Rafayel and you were just, well, you. 

It was hard to quell your feelings after that night. It was harder for you to ignore how pretty Rafayel was, how charming his smile was and how well you and him got along. It was damn near impossible to ignore just how much you liked him. 

You tried to brush off his offhand comments, immediately deflecting and not allowing yourself the pleasure of entertaining the idea. This was Rafayel. The most handsome man you’d ever seen in your life, he was funny and kind and caring and he did not have a thing for you. 

“Hey cutie, what do you say we grab a bite after this?” He winks at you during an exhibition, you want to kill the butterflies in your stomach. 

“I can’t, sorry Rafayel,” you say simply, giving him a small smile and hoping he’d drop it. He doesn’t, of course he doesn’t. 

“C'mon! We can go to the place you’ve been wanting to try! I saw your moments post about it,” he narrows his eyes at you, crossing his arms and leaning forward. 

You take a small step back. Rafayel wants to grab you by your waist, he digs his fingers into the fabric of his shirt to stop himself. 

“I already have some food I have to finish up, maybe next time?” You smile nervously, palms already sweaty from how intently he was looking at you. His purple bangs falling gently across his forehead, you fight the urge to brush them out of his eyes. 

Rafayel only spoke to you again when parting ways after the exhibition, turning around and causing you to almost bump into his chest. 

“Y’know I’m here for you, right? Whenever you want for whatever you need,” the words catch you by surprise, making your heart thump louder in your ears as you smile at him. 

“O-okay thanks,” you reply, moving to walk past him, he grabs your wrist, staring at you like he was going to say more. He opens his mouth before closing it again, shoulders slumping and letting out a small sigh. He lets go of your wrist, savoring the way the warmth of your skin felt on his. “Let me know when you get home, Miss Bodyguard,” he smiles softly. 

“Okay,” you breathe out, eyes lingering on his lips for a second too long. You turn on your heel quickly, the mantra you’d always repeat to yourself when it came to Rafayel already looping in your mind. 

It probably means nothing. The look in his eyes wasn’t anything, it couldn’t be. Your heart tugs the further away from him you get, God, you wish it did. 

You decided you were going to be brave. After almost a year of debate, you were going to take a leap of faith. 

With shaky fingers you hover over the dial button, taking a deep breath before tapping your screen and putting the phone to your ear. It only rings once before you hear the same voice that always makes your stomach flip. 

“Well to what do I owe the honor of you calling me first, Miss Bodyguard?” Rafayel smirks on the other line, leaning back in his seat as he puts the phone on speaker, mindlessly twirling a paintbrush between his fingers. 

“I need to ask you something, and I want you to promise that you won’t judge me or laugh at me or- are you already giggling?” You furrow your brows, nerves slowly replaced by that familiar feeling of enamored frustration only Rafayel managed to bring out. 

“You can’t tell someone to not laugh at something, everyone knows that just makes them want to laugh,” he states, “but fiiine, I won’t laugh.” 

“Do piercings hurt a lot? I know you have a bunch and I’ve been wanting to get one forever and I’ve been so scared but I really want one.” You rush your words out, pacing around your living room before staring out your window and flopping backwards on your couch. 

“You thought I would laugh because you’re… scared to get a piercing?” Rafayel cocks his head slightly, pausing his movements as he sets his brush down, grabbing his phone and smiling softly. He can picture you already, your face is probably warm, nose scrunched and lips pouting as you look to your side in embarrassment, shrugging your shoulders. 

“Well, yeah,” you mutter, nose scrunched and face hot as you stare away from your phone, as if he could see you through the camera. 

“What kind of piercing do you wanna get? The pain depends on the placement but also everyone’s pain tolerance is different.” He hears you hum on the other end of the line. 

“I wanted to get my nose pierced, is that lame?” Your face is hot, embarrassed to be so scared of something so many people did. 

“You’re gonna look great with it! It shouldn’t hurt too much, when are you gonna get it?” Rafayel has to take deep breaths as his imagination runs wild. The thought of you with your nose pierced, he closes his eyes for a moment, willing himself to calm down as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. 

“I don’t know, I was kinda thinking of getting it soon, rip the band aid off,” you smile, sitting up from your position on the couch and checking the time. “Are you busy right now?” 

“I’m never busy when it comes to you,” Rafayel replies easily, wiping his paint stained hands on a nearby rag before standing up. 

“Do you think you could come with me? To get the piercing?” You’re covering half your face with one hand out of embarrassment. You’re fully prepared for him to laugh at you, say ‘hell no!’ and hang up on you. Okay, that might be a little extreme. 

“I’m already on my way, cutie,” he replies, you can hear the jingling of his keys before you let out a small, ‘okay’ and hang up. You stare at the floor for a moment, then a wide smile breaks onto your face. You break out into maniacal giggles, burying your face in your hands before biting your bottom lip. 

Rafayel knocks on your door in 15 minutes time, hair falling perfectly and cologne wafting into your senses the moment you open the door. You look up at him with a shy smile, having never noticed just how built the man was. He crowds your space as he leans against the door frame, smiling and holding his hand out for you to take. 

“Are you ready?” He asks, you nod, hesitantly putting your hand in his. You ignore the way your whole body reacts to the simple touch. You’re too in your head to notice the way his face goes red as his hand envelopes yours. 

Rafayel was enjoying this way too much for your liking, but you were too nervous to make any remarks as he walked into the piercing shop with your clammy hand in his. 

“Hey what can I help you guys with today?” The man asked, looking between the two of you, “matching tattoos maybe?” He grins, you can’t help but let out a nervous chuckle. 

“Maybe next week, right cutie?” He chuckles when your eyes go wide and you elbow him. 

“I wanted to get a nose piercing,” you tell the man, and two consent forms later you’re seated in the piercing chair, fidgeting with your t-shirt nervously as you talk to Rafayel. 

“It’ll look good right? I won’t look stupid with it?” Rafayel smiles at you and nods. 

“You’re gonna look stunning, Miss Bodyguard,” he mumbles, walking from his position across the room to your side. “Who knows, you might even inspire me to paint more pieces about you.”

You smile at him, then the words process in your mind. “What do you mean ‘more’?”

“Alright! I’m gonna go ahead and mark where the piercing will go and let me know if you like the placement!” The piercer walks in, saving Rafayel from having to answer your question. Reluctantly you tear your gaze from him, smiling at the piercer and sitting still as she marks your nose and hands you a mirror to check. You nod in approval, handing the mirror back as she preps the area. 

Rafayel is staring at you intently, your heart is racing, fear coursing through your veins as the piercer turns to grab the needle. 

“Can you hold my hand?” You ask quietly, Rafayel all but jumps at the opportunity, intertwining your fingers with his, like he was always meant to be by your side. 

“Alright, you ready?” She asks and you nod, eyes focused on Rafayel’s pretty blue-pink ones. “Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth for me.” You do as you're told, feeling slightly embarrassed by how sweaty your palm is against Rafayel’s.

“Deep breath,” he says softly, eyes glancing between your gaze and the needle, squeezing your hand as she punctures the cartilage. “Good girl,” Rafayel praises, thumb stroking the back of your hand in soothing circles as your eyes water slightly. You blink rapidly, a stray tear slipping out as they insert the small stud in place of the needle. 

“Alright you’re all done!” The piercer smiles at you, letting you know to head up front to pay. You thank her quickly, turning to Rafayel who still had a tight grip on your hand. 

“How do I look?” You smile at him. Rafayel doesn’t say anything for a second, eyes scanning your features as his thumb swipes the stray tear from your cheek. 

“Beautiful,” he whispers, squeezing your hand before helping you out of the chair. He’s quick to beat you to the register, immediately handing the receptionist his card before you have the chance to protest. 

You’re too flustered by his compliment to fight back, opting instead to simply thank him as he places his card back in his wallet. Rafayel doesn’t say anything, his hand slotting back into yours. Both of your faces are burning hot, with neither of you addressing it until your hand leaves his as he holds the car door open for you. 

“That wasn’t as terrible as I thought it was gonna be!” You gush as Rafayel slips into the driver's seat. He watches from the corner of his eye the way you stare at your reflection in the sun visor mirror.

“You did a great job! My brave girl,” he says smoothly, left hand on the steering wheel and the other coming to squeeze your arm gently. Your body is on fire at the small contact, and you’re having a hard time rationalizing this into nothing. 

He holds your hand during your piercing, tells you he’s painted pieces inspired by you, that could mean nothing. But now he’s calling you his girl? Your mind is scrambling and you can only land on one conclusion. 

“Rafayel?” 

“Cutie?” He purrs back, he can all but see everything in your head clicking into place, his heart thumping against his chest as your gaze bores into your lap. 

“Do you like me?” You check to see if the passenger door is unlocked, in case he laughs in your face and you have to jump out of this moving vehicle. You think about the logistics of it, you’d most likely survive, mainly surface injuries, you’ve fought off hordes of wanderers, you could take jumping out of a car. What you couldn’t take, is the artist you’ve been crushing on for a year calling you delusional. 

“I thought that much was obvious, I’ve been flirting with you since I met you,” Rafayel lets out a deep chuckle, turning to look at you briefly. Your mouth is agape, eyes wide as you stare at him in disbelief.

“What?!” You shriek. Rafayel only laughs harder. 

“Did you think I just went around complimenting everybody? Calling people cutie and my muse?” Your silence makes Rafayel’s mouth drop. “Are you serious?!” He exclaims, parking the car in front of your apartment building before turning to face you fully. 

“I didn’t want to assume things! I just rationalized everything that happened,” you defended, “I just kept telling myself it meant nothing and you were just a flirty person!” 

“So when I gave you a key to my house?” 

“I’m your bodyguard so you gave it to me for security purposes,” you explained, and Rafayel had to hold back his laughter. 

“I told you there’s no one in my life that I’d want with me other than you, and that’s the conclusion you came to?” Your face burned as you tried (and failed) to defend yourself. “Okay and the time I told you that you were the reason I started painting with lighter tones and images of hope and love instead of despair?"

“You said that you did that after you met me, not that-” saying it out loud makes it seem obvious, embarrassment coursing through your veins as you realize the mental gymnastics you’d been doing all year. 

“I practically professed my love for you the night you got stood up, how did you rationalize that?” His head cocks slightly, a smug smirk on his face as he wonders what radical conclusion you’d landed on. 

“That you’d never have feelings like that for someone like me,” you shrug your shoulders, not daring to meet his eyes as you finally come clean. The true reason you’d brushed his every move off, the one thing driving the mantra you’d always told yourself. 

“Someone like you?” Rafayel repeats, his heart clenches at your words. He doesn’t say anything else, the restraint he had for the past year is thrown out the window as he reaches over the center console and angles your face towards him. 

“Do you like me?” Rafayel asks, his breathing erratic as he stares into your eyes. You give him a small nod, about to say something else before you’re cut off with his lips on yours. You tense for a moment, body catching up before your brain does as you melt into the kiss, hands weaving in the soft purple tresses at the nape of his neck. You whimper slightly when Rafayel pulls away and nips at your bottom lip. 

“Please tell me you can’t rationalize that,” he mumbles, you laugh, letting your head rest on his shoulder. 

“If I try hard enough-” Rafayel takes your face in one hand, lifting it up and kissing you once more, careful to not hit your freshly pierced nose. 

“I want you,” he mumbles against your lips, “you drive me crazy– you’re the only one I want– I want you all to myself, as my lover and as my everything,” he punctuates each statement between kisses, slowly turning rougher as you move in sync with him, tugging gently on his hair. 

When he pulls away, the only thing connecting the two of you is a string of saliva between your lips, which Rafayel quickly wipes with his thumb, licking it clean. You bite back a moan. 

“Am I clear enough now?” He smirks. You gulp, nodding. 

“Do you wanna- we should probably- come on let’s head inside,” you finally sputter out, quickly opening the car door and heading to your apartment. Rafayel is hot on your heels, relief filling his body when you turn around and shoot him a shy smile as you unlock your door. 

Rafayel crowds your space the rest of the day, kissing every inch of you, telling and showing you just how badly he’s been wanting you. He whispers sweet words to you as he brushes your hair out of face, his fingertips trace your sweaty skin, eyes staring at you like you were the most precious work of art ever created…. which could mean nothing. 

But you know better now.  It means the feelings you’d been shoving aside this whole time were reciprocated ten fold. It means he loves you, with every fiber of his being.

your life had been quite… uneventful, or at least when it came to the romance department.

no suitors, no boyfriends, no flirty dms or flattering comments on your posts.

of course, you didn't need the approval to feel worthy of something beautiful and lasting, but it still sucked watching every other girl get praised and loved while you remained unseen.

in a way, it helped you make true friends; ones you could trust would never develop feelings that made things awkward.

it also helped you recognize genuine compliments and those that came out of pity.

however, it made you doubt yourself tremendously.

if someone stared at you in public, you automatically assumed it was because they were judging you, and not because they were admiring your appearance.

if someone said you were very attractive, you thought they were part of a bet or a cruel joke.

you tried not to judge that quickly, but time and different experiences made you realize that, at least in this lifetime, you weren't meant to be worshiped and adored like the other girls.

and you were starting to accept that fact, until a certain someone decided to flip your world upside down by doing the unthinkable.

genuinely liking you.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ caleb! ꒰੭

caleb was the perfect definition of the “guy next door;” helpful, handsome, charming, and kind.

he was every girl's dream, and, you couldn't lie, you felt flustered every time he helped you carry boxes or whenever he took care of your flowers in the morning since he left earlier.

you would also catch glimpses of him shirtless whenever he worked out with his window open, or when he went on his early runs.

of course, he was way out of your league (or at least that's what your brain constantly repeated).

he was a kind guy, presumably raised right by his mama, with a huge heart and puppy-like energy; you were almost certain he was just as nice and helpful to everyone else.

however, you failed to notice his burning-red ears whenever he talked to you, or that satisfied glint in his eyes when you acknowledged his presence.

he offered you rides, he came by to offer meals or to ask for sugar, he offered to babysit your pets…

and it wasn't because he was kind and sweet.

in fact, the other neighbors thought he was a bit distant and aloof, but with you, he was total sunshine.

and you didn't notice.

it didn't even cross your mind that it could be the case, and if it was, maybe it was out of pity.

perhaps he was one of those guys who liked to “fix” people and adopt those who were lonely or outcasts, and, in all honesty, you refused to be an experiment or a charity case.

one sunny day, as you came back home from grocery shopping, caleb was suspiciously close to your door, waiting with a huge grin and sweaty, sunlit skin.

“need help with that, gorgeous?” he offered as always, to which you hesitated.

his eagerness confused you.

“it's fine, caleb. but thank you so much,” you gave him a soft smile and opened your door.

he stayed close, hair clinging to his forehead, bare muscles glistening.

he had been exercising before you came.

“hmm… whatever you say, doll,” he stepped back, though his eyes remained glued to your moving form, even when you came back to retrieve the last bags.

he decided to finally approach, standing behind you so closely that you could feel his chest warming up your back.

“may i ask a question, angel?”

you froze in place, eyes going slightly wide.

he was too close.

too close.

you turned your head around to meet his gaze, his tangerine scent mixed with a manly, yet not unpleasant, musk invading your senses.

“uh… yeah, go ahead,” you nodded softly, gripping the shopping bags.

caleb's eyes softened as he smiled warmly, tilting his head just enough to seem curious.

“why do you keep avoidin' me?”

and you inhaled sharply, taken aback by the question.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

he noticed.

“i… uh, i don't know what you're talking about,” you whispered, your voice coming out a bit shaky.

he chuckled gently, his hand reaching out to softly fix your hair before falling to his side again.

“you don't have to lie to me, doll,” he whispered. “i just wanna know why.”

you took a step back, confused and slightly embarrassed.

but he was right.

you didn't have to lie.

“caleb, i… you don't have to be nice to me, you know?” you cautiously began, your eyebrows furrowing slightly. “i'm sure you're genuinely caring and kind, but i… i feel like you're also doing it out of pity. and i don't need that.”

his chest tightened at your words.

kindness?

pity…?

he stepped back, his sunset-like eyes darkening ever so slightly.

“huh,” he nodded quietly, processing and tasting the bitterness in your words. “so you think that's what i'm doin'...”

you sighed heavily.

“caleb, please. i'm so… so grateful for your help and everything you've done for me as a neighbor, but i truly, truly don't need to feel like… you know, a charity case,” you mumbled. “i mean, if i thought you were doing it to be my friend, i would gladly accept it, but i've heard people saying that it looks as if…”

you trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

it was way too crazy of a rumor either way.

“as if what?” he approached again, leaning down until his face was right in front of yours. “as if i liked you? as if i wanted you?”

you nodded again, your eyes going a bit wide.

he looked down at your lips before looking into your eyes again.

“you don't think that might be the case, gorgeous?” he whispered softly.

you froze.

you didn't know how to answer.

“let me tell you somethin',” he began, his voice turning softer. “i've never pitied you. not once, angel. i don't think i ever could.”

you swallowed loudly, your lips parting slightly.

“if anythin', i've been sufferin' for months,” he whispered, leaning in just enough for you to feel his breath brushing against your lips. “because i've wanted you, angel. wanted you bad. wanted to take that frown away from your pretty face.”

you inhaled sharply, turning around fully to face him properly.

what the hell was he talking about?

his eyes were glowing with something… intense; something you've seen before, but never directed at you.

attraction?

lust?

…love?

“been wantin' to take care of you, to please you, to be close. to see that pretty smile, to feel that flushed skin under my fingers…” one of his hands gently cupped your cheek, all while his eyes darkened. “because i like you.”

then, his thumb brushed your bottom lip softly, as you didn't seem to reject his touch.

“does that sound like pity to you, doll?” he whispered, his voice laced with genuine warmth and a hint of hurt and disbelief, as if he couldn't believe you considered his flirting a mere act of kindness.

“i… how can you like me?” you whispered all of a sudden, your heart acting before your brain could catch up. “how can you be so sure you… you find me attractive and this isn't just to feel like a savior or something? because guys like you don't simply like girls like me, and i'm sure there are plenty of other girls that— hmph!”

your rant was rudely interrupted by a kiss; a desperate kiss that made time stop.

he grunted and groaned against your lips, his eyes closed so tightly as if he were restraining himself from kissing you harder.

he was desperate; so, so needy for a kiss…

a kiss girls like you never usually received, yet you were experiencing it right in front of your doorway.

his arms coiled around your torso, pulling you impossibly closer, all while your brain still tried to process the turn of events.

when he pulled back, he panted against your lips, licking the remains of your taste with hunger.

still, his grip was gentle, his eyes were warm and sincere.

“i'll show it to you, yeah?” caleb mumbled. “don't care how, but i'll get through to ya', angel. you'll be convinced by the end of the week that i want to make you happy, and that i wanna be the man by your side.”

with a last, lingering kiss on your cheek, he pulled back. he grabbed the remaining shopping bags and carried them into your living room before you could.

“see you tonight, gorgeous,” he called out once he returned, rubbing his palms together. “call me if you need anythin' at all.”

just like that, he crossed the street and went home, leaving you standing there, looking absolutely wrecked and stupid.

he looked serious, he sounded serious…

so he had to be serious, no?

your walls were still up and strong, but… this guy jumped over them with ease, like they weren't even there.

seven days were enough for you to determine how eager and serious he was, so… giving him a chance wouldn't be so bad, would it?~

𐙚˙⋆.˚ rafayel! ꒰੭

rafayel was the kind of guy one could only date in books or romance novels.

he was unapproachable, charmingly mysterious, the kind of guy who told you everything about him if you asked him to, yet didn't reveal a single genuine fact.

not to mention he was very, very handsome, tall, and rich; which wasn't the most important thing, but it did add to his allure.

you met him in the most random way possible, when he entered your workplace and begged you to help him hide from a group of foreign photographers.

naturally, you did, and from then on, you had a new friend visiting you every single day.

a friend, nothing more.

as the months progressed, both rafayel and you became very comfortable with each other, so much so that you started frequenting his house, and he crashed at yours whenever he pleased.

things would get a little bit physical, too, but nothing that could be easily misinterpreted.

for example, raffy loved hugging you, poking your cheeks, or even resting against your shoulder, and you let it happen because he would whine otherwise.

he would also say you were very pretty and drawable; that your body type had been worshipped for centuries, and he totally understood why, but, once again, you assumed he was just saying poetic shit to make you feel less insecure, and it didn't really resonate.

you lived in a modern era, and in this modern era, you were looked at as if you were a dead bug.

one night, as you were peacefully making dinner, rafayel came in with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and a huge smile that always led to trouble.

“so, my dearest dear to ever dear…” he began, slowly walking towards you. “would you do me a teeny tiny favor?”

you sighed heavily, stirring the stew with a wooden spoon and a dejected expression.

“what is it this time, raffy?”

he clapped in delight, arms coiling around you from behind, head nuzzling yours over and over.

“i swear you won't regret it! but, uh, you might want to finish that quickly, cutie. we're going to spend a lot of time at my place tonight. pronto.”

and, without much choice, you obeyed, trying to rush with the stew to let it cool down before leaving with rafayel.

back at his house, you immediately noticed the blank canvas and the brushes, all carefully placed as he always did before starting a new piece.

the lights were dimmed, and he became a little tornado of blue and purple, moving around and lighting strategically placed candles.

what the hell was going on?

“uh, rafayel…?”

he just turned to you and smiled softly, arching an eyebrow.

“patience, patience,” he stepped back to contemplate the layout, nodding in satisfaction. “now, my muse… i need you to undress.”

your eyes went immediately wide, hands clutching your sweater.

“excuse me?”

he tilted his head and soon smiled.

“oh, it's not what you think, silly! i just want to paint you,” he offered his hands. “buuuut, since i knew you'd get shy on me, i got a gorgeous white robe. you'll look like a goddess.”

you, however, stepped back.

no, no, and no.

“i'm sorry, there's no way, rafayel. i'm not— i'm not showing off my body like that!”

his expression fell, and his lips pouted ever so slightly.

“why not? i promise i won't do anything funny! i just had this… surge, this vision the moment i laid my eyes on you, and now that i have the inspiration, i really want you to be my muse.”

muse.

you?

yeah, right.

you huffed and grabbed your bag, brows knitted together.

it had to be a sick joke; maybe he'd sell the painting with a nasty title, or post it online for everyone to mock you.

you angrily walked to the door, tears streaming down your face.

he frantically followed, his eyes wide open.

“wait, my dear!” his hand quickly found your shoulder. “oh! i'm sorry… did i make you feel uncomfortable? i know i should've asked first, but i wanted this session to feel natural!”

“session?” you mumbled. “you call this a session or a humiliation ritual? what are you intending to do, rafayel? sell that painting for everyone to laugh at my body? or do you think fucking painting me naked will make you look like a body-positive artist to be praised by the masses?”

the words came out like venomous tides, each one drowning rafayel more and more, because they weren't true at all, yet you didn't even give him time to retaliate.

you were already twisting the knob when he suddenly gasped.

“i'm in love with you!”

the words echoed loudly in the silent studio.

rafayel didn't mean to say it like that…

actually, he didn't mean to say it at all.

not yet, at least.

your fingers froze in place, yet you couldn't bring yourself to turn around and face him.

“i… i love you. i am attracted to you. everything about you is… is worth capturing,” he whispered.

after some seconds of sheer silence, he continued.

“that painting would've been mine, mine alone. something beautiful to look at when you weren't around. something… beautiful to look at when i was in need of inspiration. something beautiful to just admire and cherish.”

you remained still, simply listening to his shifting, his ragged breathing, the flickering candles behind you, your own heartbeat.

“and if you deem me capable of such… atrocities, then i guess i haven't been clear enough,” his shoes clicked against the floor the closer he approached your trembling frame. “but i truly think you're breathtaking. the most beautiful woman i've ever seen in my life.”

you finally turned around to face him, cheeks glossy, lips parted.

“don't… please, don't do that,” you whimpered.

he, however, kept walking, his palms now pressing against your waist with the utmost care.

“don't do what, my dearest? tell the truth?”

“no… no, you're lying just— just because you know i've never had someone say those things to me. and i don't need your pity, rafayel, i don't!” you pushed him away, yet he barely moved.

that's when he grabbed your wrists softly, pulling you closer.

“do i look like a saint, hmmm?” his forehead met yours, making your breathing hitch. “that i go around doing favors, opening up my heart just because? because if that was the case, my studio would be filled with thousands of portraits of all of those poor souls i chose to save.”

you stared into his eyes, trying to find any hint of deceit or foolery.

“but i don't want to paint you to prove a point. i want to paint you to relish your body, to feed my desires, to satisfy my needs,” his smile turned bigger, charmingly predatory in a way that didn't seem creepy. “i selfishly want to enjoy every crevice and curve, to drown myself in you… or in what you'll allow me to have.”

your knees went weak, legs trembling as his fingers traced your wrists.

“so… if being my muse really makes you uncomfortable, i'll understand. but i won't stop telling you how beautiful you are, and i won't stop trying to get you to believe me.”

you stared at him, dumbfounded.

was this real?

was he really confessing his feelings?

your trembling hands slowly moved up to his chest, fingers curling around his shirt.

“i— i can't trust this… i can't,” you mumbled. “i can try, but—”

he pressed his lips against your forehead, lingering there.

“that's more than enough for me,” he assured you. “in the meantime… i'll save space for all of the paintings i'll make of you, my muse. one day, hopefully, you'll see yourself with the same adoration i do.”

and those words sounded distant; impossible, even.

yet he spoke with a conviction and a determination he didn't even use at work or in other serious matters.

a tiny flicker of hope ignited inside of you, and, if he kept trying, maybe it would burn as bright as the candles surrounding your close, almost intimate forms.~

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sylus! ꒰੭

becoming sylus' acquaintance wasn't as hard as one would think, or perhaps you got incredibly lucky.

he said you were lovely after he heard some of your bad jokes in a bar, and from then on, you had a huge and mysterious friend, a mechanical crow following you, and two crackheads spamming you with texts every day.

needless to say, you knew right away he was way out of your league.

he was hot as hell, tall, incredibly smart, rich, handsome, patient, gentle—

simply perfect.

and if you couldn't even get the attention of mere mortals, getting sylus' would be, undoubtedly, impossible.

so, to keep your own mind at peace, you decided to enjoy the friendship while it lasted, never once focusing on the what ifs or surreal scenarios.

so far, it worked out perfectly, but he made it a bit challenging whenever he acted too gentlemanly or way too nice.

for example, he took you on expensive outings, cooked dinner for you, or suddenly surprised you with gorgeous bouquets.

again, to protect your peace of mind, you chose to believe he was being kind and attentive, as the old-fashioned man he was.

a man like him wouldn't possibly like someone like you, so fantasizing was basically useless and self-sabotaging at this point.

however, when you thought you were strong enough not to get any ideas, this wonder of a man decided to take you on a trip; just the two of you.

restaurants, stores, bars, luxurious suites… separate, of course, gifts; everything you could possibly ask for, he'd provide.

you wanted to know why, naturally. friendships didn't usually involve this, but he'd just say you were special, and he wanted to do something worthy of your attention.

but the days went by, and sylus got closer, and closer, until one fateful night, you went back inside your hotel room and found a gorgeous dress in your size, as well as shoes and jewelry over your bed.

what was the meaning of this?

your hands trembled slightly as you picked up a small letter from over your pillow, immediately recognizing his handwriting.

it was an invitation to the rooftop bar in two hours.

your body and mind protested; what if the dress didn't fit? what if you looked like you were trying too hard, even when he was the one who bought the outfit for you? what was he trying to achieve?

in that instant, all of the thoughts you were trying to suppress finally broke through the barrier, bringing with them ugly, catastrophic ideas.

what if this was a bet?

what if this was his plan all along?

what if he decided to mock you for ever believing you were worthy of this level of attention, especially coming from a man like him?

your chest felt heavy, your eyes blurry.

you couldn't go.

you wouldn't go.

you locked yourself inside the bathroom and closed your eyes, wishing the hours could go by quicker, faster. that he wouldn't knock on your door, that he wouldn't text you, asking where you were.

on one hand, you had no reason to believe he would mock you. he had been very generous this entire time, and he never expected anything in return.

but, on the other hand, your brain couldn't process the fact that a man like him would take you out on a date, because this whole ordeal surely had to be one.

the sky outside grew darker, your hands were shaking, and your phone rang outside the bathroom.

once, twice.

then, silence.

five minutes later, someone knocked on the door.

“no, no, go away,” you mumbled repeatedly, hoping he would leave or think you'd fallen asleep.

but that wasn't the case, and when you heard his voice, you just couldn't ignore him anymore.

you stood up and took a deep breath before approaching the door, opening it with caution.

sylus was right there, looking absolutely dashing in his black suit and slicked-back hair. his crimson eyes softened almost immediately upon seeing you, a warm palm finding your cheek.

“sweetheart, what happened?” he quietly asked, concerned. “are you alright?”

“i— i'm fine,” you lied, looking down at your feet. “i just… didn't feel like going, i'm sorry.”

“no, something's bothering you,” he insisted, gently tilting your chin up. “talk to me.”

his patience was unbearable; how could someone like him care so much for someone like you?

before you could stop yourself, the words spilled out of your mouth, shaky and weak.

“why are you doing this, sylus?”

he blinked, confused.

his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“doing what, sweetie?”

“this! everything! whatever this… this is!” you gestured around wildly, stepping away from him. “the… the clothes, the shopping, the gifts!”

he studied your expression, his own softening immediately.

he understood where you were coming from, he could taste your pain and uncertainty from afar.

“because i want to,” he simply said, his voice calm and low.

“but why? what do you get out of this?” you rubbed your temples, genuinely distressed and confused.

he stepped closer, almost as if approaching a wounded animal, and leaned down so he could reach your level.

“you, hopefully.”

the entire world fell silent.

your eyes went wide, your head cocked to the side, your lips forming a perfect “o”.

“sy… you're not— this isn't funny…” you mumbled, shaking your head. “are you doing this because you feel sorry for me? are you? that must be it. that has to be it!”

yet his hands found your waist as he pulled you closer, making you gasp.

“i like you. i thought i had shown my interest the first day we met,” he softly said.

and if he recalled correctly, not only did he say you were lovely, but his voice was more like a purr than a casual compliment.

and, on top of that, sylus isn't one to praise strangers.

…and he paid for your bill, too.

your cheeks felt immediately hot, and you looked away.

“i— i didn't know! i don't like to assume, because… because—” your words died down as he gently held your cheeks.

“because you don't see yourself the way i see you,” he whispered.

your chest felt tighter than before, your hands holding onto his wrists.

“but… but look at you,” you protested, weakly pointing at him, then at yourself. “and look at me.”

“oh, i've been looking at you, sweetheart,” he chuckled, his eyes going up and down your entire body. “trust me.”

your breath hitched, your stomach twisting in knots.

“but—”

“unless you don't want this, i'm not letting you go,” he whispered, his gaze falling to your lips.

“sylus, i…”

“are you rejecting me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “it's okay if you wish to, but i need a proper answer.”

you hesitated.

you wanted him, but your insecurities were louder than your desires.

he noticed, of course, so he tilted your chin up.

“may i kiss you?” he asked, softly brushing your bottom lip with his thumb.

your heart was beating so hard, you thought you would pass out.

against all odds, your answer came out weak and shy.

“...yes.”

and before you could blink, his lips were on yours, hands pulling you closer.

your hands shyly traveled to his chest, wrinkling his perfectly ironed suit.

his tongue brushed against your lips, gently asking for permission, and you couldn't help but grant him access.

his hands moved down to your waist, squeezing softly as he pulled away.

“still unsure?” he asked, his lips brushing yours. “you can reject me.”

you shook your head, averting your gaze.

“good,” he whispered, pulling away completely. “now, go change into the dress i bought you. i've waited long enough to take you out on a proper date.”

“...okay,” you whispered, nodding shyly.

he grinned, pressing another kiss to your forehead before leaving.

“i'll be waiting for you outside, sweetheart.”

and he left, leaving you alone with your racing mind.

you had nothing to lose… or well, maybe some hours of your time if the date sucked, but other than that, you deserved to give yourself a chance, and today was the day to do so.~

𐙚˙⋆.˚ xavier! ꒰੭

xavier was an enigma.

you've seen him around a lot, and while he's charming in his own way, he didn't really… talk.

he was unreadable, really, and you thought that could be because he didn't know you back then, but now that you —somehow— became friends, nothing changed at all.

he was often considerate, yes, attentive, unintentionally funny, and surprisingly cuddly, especially after long days.

your days next to him could either be quiet and slow, or unpredictable and fun, and it slowly became a precious friendship you didn't expect, but treasured deeply.

now, the problem came when he started giving you… mixed signals.

he would blush if you caught him staring, he would nuzzle against your body unprompted, almost like a shy and unsure cat around his favorite human, and he would also become protective of you whenever you two went out.

your most vulnerable side told yourself it was just a kind gesture; something friends did.

but there was this tiny, hopeful voice bugging you; one you hadn't heard since you were very, very young, when having crushes and fantasizing was very normal.

what if he felt something for you?

…but how possible was that?

yeah, he was a bit hard to get to know, and he had just a few friends, but he was still undeniably attractive and very kind to strangers.

people looked at him, women looked at him, guys looked at him; he was simply charming and had eyes that could make someone sell their soul without hesitation.

and that, to you, meant that he was absolutely out of your reach, even when his actions confused you.

as the months progressed, he didn't get any better. he slept on your bed because, according to him, it made him rest better, and, recently, he'd started taking your hand while walking outside.

things felt more intimate, no matter how hard you tried not to think that way and make assumptions that could, potentially, ruin everything.

but he'd give guys nasty looks if they stared at you, and he'd pull you closer to his side, fingers intertwined with yours.

your heart was melting, but your brain was on fire.

what the hell was he doing, and why?

was he protecting you from the judgmental looks of others?

was it because he cared a lot, or out of pity?

you were going insane.

one night, you both came to your place to watch a movie and share some snacks. there was some tension in the air, since xavier had scared the shit out of a man who had been staring at you.

you didn't know how to react, quite frankly, especially not since xavier's hands had held your waist on the way home, refusing to let go of you.

when you sat down, he was looking down at his hands, while you awkwardly turned the tv on.

“so, about that,” you began, clearing your throat. “i… appreciate the gesture, xav. it was very nice of you to protect me.”

he perked up, those pretty eyes meeting yours through his eyelashes.

“but, uh…” you mumbled, your breath catching. “it's fine. i mean, it's not fine, but i've been dealing with judgmental looks all of my life. confronting them won't change their mindsets.”

xavier grunted in acknowledgment, before averting his eyes again.

“he wasn't judging you,” he whispered. “he was eating you up with his gaze.”

you sighed and smiled softly, shaking your head.

“i highly doubt that, xavi.”

he suddenly looked up again, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly.

after a brief pause, he finally spoke.

“you don't know how gorgeous you are, do you?”

…

your heart briefly stopped before beating faster than ever. you parted your lips to speak, but only a humorless, awkward chuckle escaped your mouth.

“what… what are you saying, xavier? that's not true.”

he moved closer to you, until his scent wrapped around you like a thick, impossible-to-ignore blanket.

“have i ever lied to you?”

“xavier—”

“have i?” he insisted, leaning in so that you couldn't possibly avert your gaze.

you swallowed thickly, clenching your hands.

“xavier, please. stop,” you mumbled. “if this is your attempt to make me feel better, it isn't working. knowing that men stare at me with… god knows what intentions doesn't make me feel desired or better about myself.”

he leaned back, his head tilting to the right. his eyes darkened just enough for you to notice.

“is that what you think i'm trying to do? making up the way men look at you, and protecting you out of pity?”

you wrapped your arms around your torso and nodded your head, making yourself smaller.

a flash of blond hair rushed towards you, and before you knew it, you were pinned down on the sofa, his body weight on top of yours.

some of his soft strands fell over your forehead, and his nose brushed against yours.

“you don't understand,” he whispered, palms pressed beside your head.

you managed a small gasp, your body freezing under him.

“w-what don't i understand?” you whispered shakily.

he looked down at your lips, then your body, and then up at you again.

“i won't let anyone else take you away from me,” he closed his eyes when he nuzzled your neck, taking in your scent. “i don't want anyone else looking at you the way i do.”

“xavier, no one is—!”

“they are, because you're gorgeous, and easy to love,” he quickly interjected, pulling back to look into your eyes.

your lips parted again, but no words came out.

you were speechless.

he was… jealous?

like, genuinely jealous and scared of other people liking you, when that had been a very rare occurrence?

but why?

“don't make me say it,” he mumbled against your skin, once again hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

you, surprising yourself, lifted your hands to cup his cheeks, forcing him to meet your gaze.

“say what, xavier?” you mumbled, needing to know the reason, needing your brain to stop rambling and for his words to make sense.

he sighed deeply, looking away for a second, before meeting your eyes again.

“…that i'm in love with you.”

lies.

he had to be lying.

you closed your eyes and shook your head, but his lips met yours in a desperate, needy kiss, as if it had a message to convey, or a point to get across without room for doubt.

his hands held your wrists gently, pinning them above your head, while his lips moved against yours.

he was pouring his feelings into this kiss, his tongue tracing your bottom lip, begging for entrance.

and god, you wanted to give in, but your insecurities were louder, and you pulled away, breathing heavily.

“xavier,” you whimpered, your brows furrowing.

“no, please,” he whispered against your lips, eyes half-lidded. “please, i can show it to you better than words ever could… only if you allow me to.”

however, you looked around and then back at him with a troubled expression.

this had been too sudden, too surprising. you weren't even sure of your own feelings, or if this would ever work out.

xavier, upon sensing your concerns, gently backed up and kissed your cheek reverently.

“not today if you don't want to,” he quietly added. “but i'll wait for you.”

your mind was still racing with thoughts, both good and bad.

but yet again, as xavier said, he'd never once lied to you.

he was very straightforward with his words, even when his feelings weren't clear to anyone but himself.

however, he left it very clear what his intentions were, and if he was willing to wait for you to make up your mind and… finally listen to that pesky little voice of hope deep inside your heart, then you'd grant him the benefit of the doubt.

so, with a soft and almost imperceptible nod, you allowed him to show you what no one else had before, no matter how enigmatic or unsure the path ahead seemed.~

𐙚˙⋆.˚ zayne! ꒰੭

the day he confessed his feelings, you felt as if you had stepped inside a different timeline.

it was sudden; slow, gentle, seemingly genuine, but ultimately shocking.

him; the doctor.

the role model with a perfectly constructed life, with many nurses and researchers going after his not-so-little butt, and with a face that could make the angels swoon…

in love with you.

needless to say, you went out of the cafeteria in a matter of seconds, utterly convinced he was playing with you.

he had to be.

maybe he saw you as an experiment; maybe he saw the “potential”.

maybe he was doing research on how many months it would take for a doctor like him to change your appearance completely against your will, all while using psychological tactics.

…okay, maybe that was a reach.

but it was still way more possible than him just being attracted to you.

so, as one does, you ignored him for days; not even bothering to pick up his calls or answer his texts.

your brain was wise, your mind was trying to protect you based on your past experiences or rather lack thereof, and you trusted your gut a hundred percent.

on the other hand, zayne was heartbroken.

he had built up the courage to open up his heart, to reschedule some appointments to have an entire evening just for you, and he had also taken you to his favorite café in town.

however, he knew you had run away because of your insecurities and thoughts, and not really because you were appalled by him.

or well, so he hoped.

he respected your decision after trying to reach out whenever he had free time, understanding you needed to process everything and come to terms with your thoughts.

but it was hard; it was the hardest thing he had ever had to deal with in his life.

when a week went by, you tried to put some distance between the two of you.

though you didn't expect to actually run into him as you went inside your favorite cat café.

there he was, kneeling down to caress a fluffy, fat black cat who was still asleep; otherwise, his hand would've been slapped away.

you froze in place, staring at him with wide eyes.

he, perceptive as always, met your gaze, his own eyes mimicking yours.

ten seconds went by in sheer silence, and you gathered the courage to turn around and flee, only for zayne to quickly run behind you, reaching out with something you hadn't heard in his voice before.

desperation.

“please… please, wait,” he called out, the cold air hitting his face the more he stepped towards you.

both of you faced each other, chests going up and down, lips parted to let out little clouds of air.

“may i talk to you?” he quietly asked, his gaze tender yet urgent. you averted your gaze, hands hidden inside your pockets.

your silence and stillness were enough of an answer, so he proceeded, his tone becoming softer.

“i did not mean to upset you,” zayne began. “i… i am aware we have been acquaintances for less than a year, but that day i deemed it appropriate to voice my feelings.”

you remained quiet before whispering.

“why?”

his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“come again?”

“why me? why? how or when did you realize you… you liked me?” you mumbled, pressing your nails against your palms, not hard enough to hurt, but just enough to keep you from revealing your biggest insecurities.

his eyes softened, and he gently reached out to pull your hands out of your pockets and into his.

“you are everything.”

his hands were cold, but his touch was warm. his fingers squeezed yours, gently rubbing his thumb against your knuckles.

his eyes met yours, unwavering and sincere.

“you are kind, compassionate, and thoughtful. you make me laugh, you make me feel… at ease. and i find you breathtakingly beautiful.”

your breath hitched, your cheeks burning hot.

“i cannot think of a specific date, but i do remember feeling… abnormal flutters in my chest when you kissed my cheek on my birthday.”

you gasped softly.

that had been months ago.

“zayne…” you mumbled. for a moment, the icy walls around you started to melt under his warmth.

however, you came back to your senses when your mind started to replay all of the dismissals, the jokes, the judgmental comments, the disdain, all directed at you and your body.

you pulled your hands away and turned around, not yet leaving, but ready to if the situation became more vulnerable for you.

“you… you might be confusing sympathy with attraction, zayne,” you whispered. “it is your job to save people, and, subconsciously, you might be trying to… save me by being merciful.”

zayne froze, his hands trembling slightly before he clenched them into fists.

“...i do believe myself capable of discerning between desire and compassion,” he stated, his voice gentle but firm. “and i can assure you, what i feel is not pity, nor is it a way to feel better about myself.”

he stepped closer, his breath visible in the cold air between the two of you.

“i have felt unworthy of affection my entire life,” he suddenly admitted, reaching out to fix your coat with his slender fingers. “so i do understand why you would doubt my sincerity. however, i would like a chance to prove my honesty.”

“unworthy of affection…? but zayne, you're… you're you! you're perfect! have you not seen yourself?” you frowned, tilting your head.

how could he not see himself?

how could he not recognize that other people could find him absolutely easy to love?

how could—

…then it hit you.

you couldn't see yourself nor understand your worth either.

he offered a faint smile, the tips of his ears going red.

“perfect is not the word i would use, flower,” he whispered.

your heart fluttered at the pet name and how natural it sounded coming from his lips.

“but i, however, would use it to describe you. you are perfect in every way; there is not a day i spend without thinking about you, or… well,” he blinked quickly, fixing his glasses again, as if it were a nervous habit of his. “or without planning dates for when i finally clear up my schedule.”

your eyes widened, your knees feeling weak.

“dates?”

he nodded and stepped closer to you, closing the distance between you two.

“dates,” he confirmed. “if you would grant me the honor.”

could you…?

could you really accept and give him the chance he was asking for?

your lips parted to speak, but nothing came out.

zayne patiently waited, his hazel eyes never leaving yours.

you already knew how he felt about you, since he was very clear the day he confessed, and by accepting, you would be entertaining the idea of seeing how things progressed.

just when he thought you would reject him, you nodded.

zayne's breath hitched, his lips curling into the softest smile you had ever seen.

“thank you,” he whispered, gently taking your hand in his once more, pressing his lips against your knuckles, sending a shiver down your spine. “thank you, flower.”

you giggled nervously, your entire body feeling warm despite the cold weather.

“shall we go back inside?” you asked, glancing back at the cat café.

he nodded, intertwining his fingers with yours as he guided you back, his thumb gently caressing yours.

the black cat he was petting earlier was up and about, rubbing against the chairs.

zayne helped you out of your coat, his skin flushed, but his hands steady.

he was serious about proving his point, and, by now, the fog blurring your mind had dissipated.

he wasn't a man who would deliberately lie or play with your time, given he barely had time for himself.

and while you still had some doubts that wouldn't just disappear overnight, your previous… wild misconceptions about the man you called perfect without even noticing melted like ice against warm skin.~