#rcsa

the door squeaked behind you as guéla shut it close with his foot, a tired sigh escaping him as the two of you stepped into his apartment. the both of you were just coming back from grocery shopping for his apartment when suddenly heavy rain came crashing down, soaking you two from head to toes.

stepping into his apartment, you mumbled a small ‘sorry’ as water dripped from your hair to the floor.

“don't worry about it.” guéla replied, grabbing two towels from a chair. “i’ll go get us some change, i have a few of your clothes here.” he reassured as he handed you one of the towels before disappearing down the hall.

with a sigh of relief, you grabbed the towel and tried drying most of yourself. as you shook the water from your hair, you glanced up at the couch to see désiré laying on it, a smirk on his lips.

“hey” he greeted you as you dropped on the couch, mumbling back a small ‘hi’ as you kept drying your hair.

after a few seconds of silence, the boy spoke up again. “so, guéla’s got some of your clothes here?” the smirk on his lips grew bigger with every word he said.

“uh yeah? i think i left some here a few weeks ago, why?” with a confused expression, you glanced back at the younger boy. “oh, for nothing don't worry.” désiré shrugged his shoulders as he glanced back at the tv. “it’s just. . . strange.”

“strange?” the frown on your face deepened as you eyes moved from the tv to désiré. “what do you mean by strange?”

“just that it's weird that you two still call yourselves ‘friends’.” a small laugh escaped him when he heard you mumble ‘not this again’ while shaking your head.

that’s when guéla came back from his room, dressed in more comfortable and dry clothes. “what are you guys talking about?” he asked as he handed you a shirt and some sweatpants.

“dez thinks that it's ‘strange’ that you keep some of my stuff here.” you sighed as you stood up, “when we're just friends.”

“ugh not this again.” guéla groaned as he gave a light slap on the back of his brother's neck.

“okay—but think about it!" désiré sat up as he looked between you and guéla with a smile. “first of all, you guys are always texting each other—and i mean constantly!” he pointed to his brother “you don’t even text me half as much as you text her.”

“yeah cause we’re friends.” you replied as guéla sighed behind you.

“yeah yeah—then you two have a lot of inside jokes that the rest of us don’t even understand! like sometimes you’ll say something that makes him laugh and none of us get it.”

“again, it's because we’re friends.” guéla said, shaking his head. “it’s stuff from old conversations we had or videos we’ve sent each other.” he explained as you nodded along with him.

“that leads me to another thing, you guys are always together.” this time désiré stared at you, “he walks you back to your house everytime despite living in the opposite side of the city!”

quite frankly, neither you or guéla knew how to answer that one and instead just stared at each other. fine the two of you were almost never seen without the other, but it's simply because you enjoy each other's company! it certainly wasn’t because of the tiny big crush you had on him.

“and,” of course désiré wasn’t finished. “you two are always touching each other—look you’re even doing it right now!” he exclaimed as he pointed at guéla’s hand—which was currently gently wrapped around your wrist.

you felt your face heat up in embarrassment as you glanced down at where your hand intertwined with his. when you looked back up you noticed that guéla was already staring back at you, a sheepish yet soft expression on his face.

feeling yourself burn you quickly let go of his hand and grabbed the clothes set out for you before rushing to the bathroom. guéla’s hand went to the back of his neck as he rubbed the skin there, giving another slap to his brother’s head with his free hand.

the clothing shop was almost empty as you wandered between the racks, holding up different tops every few seconds to show guéla.

he had already given the exact same answer five times.

“it looks nice.”

you narrowed your eyes. “you didn’t even look.”

“i did.”

you laughed, shaking your head before walking toward the fitting rooms and after trying on a few things, you decided to buy one sweater.

the line at the register was short and when it was finally your turn, the saleswoman smiled warmly.

“bonjour.”

“bonjour,” you smiled back.

she started asking you a few questions in french like if you want a bag, and then came the worst one: did you have the loyalty card? you answered no, and when she asked you if you want one you panicked and said yes. you answered each question carefully, thinking about every word before saying it.

your french was good, just not perfect and your accent was impossible to hide.

guéla stood beside you, quietly waiting and he wasn’t really listening to the conversation until you pronounced your phone number.

his head slowly turned toward you.

you kept talking completely seriously, concentrating so hard on getting every number right that you didn’t notice the tiny smile appearing on his face.

the saleswoman smiled politely and continued the conversation and guéla, meanwhile, had pressed hard his lips together.

he looked away toward a shelf and the ceiling, anywhere except you.

the saleswoman handed you the shopping bag and you thanked her before the two of you walked outside.

the second the shop door closed behind you, guéla burst into laughter, not loud or mocking, just the kind of laugh he tried desperately to hold back until he physically couldn’t anymore.

“seriously?” you stared at him.

“i’m sorry,” he finally managed to say after fighting with his laugh. “i’m really sorry.”

“what?”

“your accent is adorable.”

“you’re laughing at me?” you looked offended.

“no, it’s just you concentrate so hard when giving your phone number” he smiled so softly that it was impossible to actually be mad.

he imitated the serious little expression you made while speaking and your eyebrows pulled together exactly the way they had in the shop.

he repeated perfectly one of the words you had pronounced, with your accent.

“you’re mean.”

“i’m really not.”

“you’ve been waiting until we left the shop.”

“i didn’t want to embarrass you.”

“i sounded terrible.”

he immediately stopped smiling and gently reached for your hand. “don’t say that, you didn’t sound terrible.”

“you were literally laughing.”

“because it’s cute.”

“do you know how many people refuse to even try speaking another language because they’re scared of having an accent?”

“probably,” you shrugged.

he gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “speaking french with an accent that’s the cutest thing i’ve ever heard.”

“you’re just saying that,” you looked at him suspiciously.

“i’m really not.”

“keep your accent.”

“why?”

“because it’s yours and i like everything that’s yours.”

your cheeks warmed. “you’re trying to save yourself.”

“a little.”

“i knew it.”

“did it work?”

you pretended to think about it. “...maybe.”

you should've known letting guéla handle all of the breakfast preparation would be a terrible mistake.

when he woke you up as he tried to leave the bed, you had looked up in confusion, your hand grabbing his wrist as you stared at him with a puzzled frown on your face. he had only laughed at the expression on your face, tucked you back into the bed saying that he'd ‘handle it’ before pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

and yet here you were, twenty minutes later, sat up in bed and sighing as you smelled something sweet burning—accompagnied by a bunch of curses and the clicking of utensils.

still half-asleep, you got up from the bed, a hand ruffling your hair as you stepped toward the kitchen.

there, you saw a plate of burnt pancakes next a bowl of batter and guéla standing in the middle of the chaos, looking half-defeated. when he saw you approaching him he immediately rushed towards you, trying to block the scene from your eyes.

“babe, i’ve told you to stay in bed.” his hands found your waist as he tried to move you out of the kitchen. “guéla what’s that smell?” you asked, trying to peek over his shoulder at the same time.

“it’s really nothing, don’t worry your pretty head about it.” when the two of you finally reached the hallway he leaned down to plant a sweet kiss on your lips, making you automatically wrap your arms around his neck.

“hey, why don’t you take a shower—or bath, whatever you like best—while i fix all of this?” he proposed as he kissed the side of your face, right on your temple. “are you sure you can manage all this on your own?” you replied as you leaned back to look at him.

“of course, don’t you trust me?” he laughed at the look you gave him that screamed ‘no, absolutely not’ and let go of your hand—not before kissing you one last time—to rush towards the kitchen.

despite the sigh escaping your lips, a small fond smile appeared on your lips at seeing him so attentive and sweet to you. as you closed the bathroom door behind you, you peeled off your clothes and stepped into the shower, sighing in relief as cool water hit your skin.

thirty minutes after you stepped out of the bathroom, feeling completely clean and rested, and stepped towards the kitchen. your eyebrows raised in surprise at the sight in front of you—the kitchen was cleaned up, which looked a lot better than it did previously, and a plate filled with pancakes was placed on the kitchen counter, surrounded by bowls of berries, melted chocolate, whipped cream and even a glass of milk for him.

“tada!” guéla exclaimed as he saw you approaching, pulling out a bar stool chair for you to sit down. “i told you i could handle this on my own.”

you rolled your eyes at his comment, making him laugh, before sitting down on the stool. gently, you cut into one of the pancakes and brought the fork to your mouth.

“so, how does it taste?”!guéla asked as you chewed, leaning against the counter right next to you. “it’s really good!” you smiled up at him before cutting a piece out of the pancake and bringing it to his mouth. “thank you so much babe.”

nodding his head as he ate the pancake—proud of himself for the end result—he leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on your forehead. “of course, anything for my girl.” he then kissed your lips. “happy birthday.”

rain had been tapping against the windows for almost an hour but inside guéla’s apartment, everything felt warm.

you had managed to steal almost every blanket in the apartment.

one was wrapped around your shoulders, another covered both of your legs and a third was folded behind your back because you don’t want to feel the slightest bit of cold.

guéla had stopped questioning your blanket logic a long time ago and simply smiled every time you appeared wrapped up like a burrito.

the coffee table in front of you had completely disappeared beneath snacks.

you looked at the table which can feed all the country.

“i think we overdid it.”

guéla glanced at the mountain of food. “a little.”

“do you want me to put some away?”

“no.”

he sat down beside you, immediately pulling the blanket over both of you as your knees bumped together and without thinking, you leaned against his shoulder.

he rested his head against yours like he had done it a hundred times before.

“what are we watching?”

you held up the remote. “i made a list, there are five options.”

you handed him the remote.

“your choice.”

he scrolled through the animes' list for a few seconds before stopping.

“this one.”

you looked at the screen and your face immediately lit up. “jujutsu kaisen.”

he smiled without looking away from the television and you understood that he chose it because he knew you wanted to watch the new season.

“you knew?”

“you talked about it three times this week baby.”

you couldn’t help smiling. “you were listening.”

“always,” he looked at you, smiling too.

your heart melted a little then the opening theme began playing.

for the first ten minutes, both of you actually paid attention, then you reached for the popcorn without looking and at the exact same moment, he wanted too. your hands bumped together inside the bowl and you looked at each other.

“you can have it.”

he shook his head. “ladies first.”

“no.”

“take it.”

“you.”

he sighed before grabbing a single piece of popcorn and holding it toward your mouth. you laughed before leaning forward and taking it.

“thank you.”

“you’re welcome.”

the episode ended then another started.

during the second one, the rain became heavier, the room felt even cozier and you pulled the blanket higher over your shoulders.

“it’s cold.”

without saying anything, guéla gently opened one side of the blanket.

it was an obvious invitation and you smiled before immediately moving closer. this time you were practically tucked against his side as his arm naturally settled around your shoulders beneath the blanket.

he rubbed your upper arm absentmindedly while watching the screen and you rested your head against his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat between lines of dialogue for almost 4 hours.

music echoed through the house, people were scattered between the kitchen, the living room and the garden, conversations overlapped with laughter, and every few minutes someone shouted because another song they loved had just started playing.

you had barely been there for ten minutes before you lost sight of guéla.

it wasn't unusual, he always ended up talking to someone or rather, he always ends up finding someone who wants to talk to him.

you walked toward the kitchen to grab a drink and that’s when you saw him standing by the counter with a girl you had never met before.

she was smiling and leaning closer every time he answered, keeping brushing his arm with her hand whenever she laughed.

guéla simply smiled politely, answering whatever she was saying without thinking anything of it.

he looked completely relaxed and especially completely oblivious so you looked away. it didn’t matter, she was probably just friendly.

but your eyes drifted back... she definitely wasn’t just friendly.

you quietly took a sip of your drink, trying to convince yourself that nothing was happening but your eyes kept returning to them every few seconds.

you were trying so hard to act normal that you ended up acting even less normal.

“you’re staring.”

you closed your eyes. “...désiré.”

he appeared beside you carrying a bowl of crisps, already smiling before you had even looked at him.

“i’m not.”

“you’ve looked over there seventeen times.”

“she’s flirting with him,” you sighed.

désiré looked over.

“...yeah, she’s not subtle either.”

“i know.”

he slowly turned back toward you then the biggest grin appeared on his face.

“this is funny.”

you rolled your eyes. “can you help instead?!”

“I can.”

he nodded seriously.

“go stand closer to him.”

“huh..?”

“just stand there.”

“why?” you looked confused.

“territory!”

“that’s the stupidest thing i’ve ever heard.”

“i have another idea.”

“i don’t want another idea.”

“just stare at her, don’t blink. people eventually get uncomfortable and then... byeee.”

“i’m not going to stare at her.”

“whatever you want... missed opportunity for someone jealous,” he shrugged.

“i'm not jealous.”

he looked at you then at the death grip you had on your plastic cup. “yeah, sure.”

before you could answer, he suddenly walked away.

“where are you going?”

he ignored you and left straight toward guéla. your heart immediately sank

you hurried after him but it was too late, désiré casually threw an arm around guéla’s shoulders.

“having fun?”

“yeah.”

“good, but...” he pointed directly at you. “your girlfriend’s jealous by the way.”

you saw guéla looking at you and you just wanted to disappear.

“I’M NOT,” you defended yourself.

désiré nodded, eyebrows rising. “that’s exactly what a jealous person would say. she’s been watching you this whole time.”

“I HAVE NOT.”

“she absolutely has.”

the girl looked awkwardly between everyone.

“i think i’m gonna go...”

“yeah, probably,” désiré smiled politely.

the second she left, you looked at désiré. “i actually can’t stand you.”

“i helped.”

“you embarrassed me.”

“i created communication between you and your husband.”

guéla looked between both of you.

“were you actually jealous?” he asked you.

“maybe...” you murmured.

his expression immediately softened and he smiled.

“a little?”

you nodded.

“i didn’t even notice, i honestly thought she just liked talking.”

before either of you could continue, désiré interrupted again.

“that’s because you’re blind.”

“désiré?”

“what.”

“go away.” guela said perfectly calm.

“i'm supervising.”

“nobody asked you to.”

about twenty minutes later, the music got louder and people started moving toward the garden.

you were talking with a group of friends when a guy you vaguely recognized walked over.

“hey.”

“hi.”

“i don’t think we’ve met.”

“i’m yn,” you introduced yourself.

he smiled. “i've seen you around before.”

the conversation stayed completely harmless, he asked what you studied, where you knew everyone from, questions like that.

across the garden, guéla noticed. at first, he didn’t think much of it then the guy laughed, stepped a little closer, kept talking and eventually guéla stopped listening to the conversation he had been having.

his eyes stayed fixed on you.

“bro.”

désiré suddenly appeared beside him. “heyyy... i can literally see you thinking.”

“i'm not thinking.”

“you’re staring.”

“no.”

“you’ve been looking over there for two minutes.”

it was exactly the same conversation désiré had with you twenty minutes ago.

“i'm fine.”

désiré followed his gaze and immediately understood.

his smile returned. “your turn.”

“i'm not jealous.”

“that’s cute.”

“i'm serious.”

“of course. but i think he’s flirting.”

guéla’s jaw tightened but he stayed calm. “nah.”

“look. he’s smiling... oh, he just made her laugh,” désiré continued.

“i can see.”

“go fight him bro. like... just one punch.”

“no.”

“go stand really close to her then.”

guéla looked at him. “that’s terrible advice.”

“funny though.”

without even realizing it, guéla had already started walking and désiré followed behind him, trying not to laugh.

you looked up just as guéla reached you, smiling politely at the guy.

“hey.”

without saying anything else, he slipped an arm around your waist. your eyebrows lifted slightly and the guy looked between both of you.

“i’ll let you two talk,” he smiled awkwardly before walking away.

you turned toward guéla. “really?”

“what?” he looked away.

“you just interrupted.”

“did i?”

“a little,” you smiled.

“he was standing close.”

you couldn’t help laughing. “you were jealous.”

“yes.”

you raised an eyebrow and from somewhere behind you, someone clapped.

“character development.”

both of you turned, désiré was standing there with the biggest smile imaginable.

“i love when you two switche roles!”

“coward!” guéla picked up the nearest cushion from one of the garden chairs.

“désiré, leave,” you sighed.

“no, i'm invested now.”

“leave.”

“i’m basically your therapist! you can't hire me like that.”

“you’re the reason we were both jealous, so leave.”

désiré slowly backed away with his hands raised.

“fine,” he disappeared behind the open patio door.

it was finally quiet.

guéla looked down at you then smiled. “i’m sorry.”

“for what?”

“being oblivious.”

you shook your head. “and i’m sorry for getting jealous.”

“i kind of liked it,” he gently cupped your face.

“don’t get used to it.”

he leaned down and kissed you softly, slowly, one hand still resting against your cheek and when he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours.

“next time, just come take my hand.”

“deal,” he kissed you one last time.

“guéla, i’m begging you.”

he looked up from his phone before smiling. “you’re still on this.”

“yes, i’m still on this.”

you stood in front of him with your arms crossed while he sat comfortably on the couch as if nothing important was about to happen.

“don’t cut it.”

“it’s just hair,” he laughed.

“just hair?!” you pointed at his afro. “that's not just hair!”

“i want to start over.”

“start over with braids.”

“no.”

“please.”

“no.”

“you’re making the biggest mistake of your life.”

he looked at you with the most amused expression. “i’ll survive.”

before you could argue again, the doorbell rang.

“don’t answer.”

“i’m answering,” he stood up and opened the door.

the barber walked inside carrying his bag, your face immediately fell.

“hi.”

you looked at him. “hi...”

guéla had the nerve to grin at you and you followed them to the dining room where everything had already been prepared.

“i can’t watch this.”

yet you made absolutely no effort to leave, guéla sat down with the cape wrapped around him and you stared at him in disbelief.

“last chance.”

“still no.”

“think about your afro”

“it will come back.”

“think about me.”

“i am.”

“clearly not enough.”

the barber looked between both of you, obviously trying not to laugh.

“are we ready?” the barber asked.

“no.”

guéla answered at the same time. “yes.”

you looked horrified and the barber smiled apologetically before switching on the clippers.

“this is painful.”

guéla looked at you. “you’re acting like i’m losing a limb.”

“this is worse.”

the barber gently placed the clippers against the side of his head and when the first hair fell, you gasped so loudly that both of them looked at you.

“oh my god.”

more landed on the floor and you covered your mouth.

“your beautiful hair.”

“it’ll grow back.”

“that’s exactly what people say before making terrible decisions.”

the barber had to stop for a second because he started laughing. “sorry.”

“it’s okay,” you sighed.

you looked back at guéla. “but you, it’s not okay.”

little by little, the afro disappeared until almost nothing was left.

you stared in complete silence and guéla looked at himself in the mirror as he rubbed the top of his head.

“i like it.”

the barber finished cleaning everything before taking off the cape. after paying him and thanking him, guéla walked him to the door.

you were still standing in the middle of the room looking at him.

“what?” he smiled.

you shook your head. “i’m grieving.”

“you’re so dramatic.”

“look at you!”

“i'm looking.”

“your afro...”

“it’s gone.”

“exactly.”

you looked genuinely sad. “i loved your hair.”

“i know,” his smile softened when he saw you pouting without even realizing it.

“it was fluffy and soft.”

“mhm.”

“and perfect.”

he looked at you for a few seconds then he reached out and gently took one of your hands.

“it’s okay.”

before you could answer, he leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss against your forehead. he stayed there for a second before pulling back with the biggest grin.

“don't worry, it’ll grow back.”

you looked at him then at his head.

“i’m still mad.”