walking into zayne's home always feels like walking into a funeral masquerading as someone's home. it's clean, sterile, accompanied by a deathly silence that would make even children cry. it lacks even the mess that would prove someone's living here. everything's scrubbed clean, push away, rearranged into perfection. fortunately, he's known akso's poster child far too well, knows that the guy likes to keep to himself. sometimes he wonders if they'd even remotely like each other if it weren't for the shared mutual hatred for the same big bad company that ruined their lives and self-esteem.
zayne's already come back from whatever party his coworkers threw him. his coat draped over the hanger is proof enough. his briefcase is temporarily placed on the table. rafayel places the box next to it and waits. sure enough zayne shows up a few minutes later. 11:50pm. good enough. he's not late. "hey, surprise!" the painter forces his voice into something as cheery as possible - honestly, he doesn't even know if zayne liked celebrating his birthday. likely not. but birthdays had a different meaning to rafayel: it's proof that someone remembers your existence, that they cared enough to dedicate one day of the year just for you. "look, i made this myself when i saw akso hospital's social media posts. you've never really told me when your birthday was, supposed i share the fault because i didn't ask, but there's 10 minutes left, so be quick."
he know he's being pushy, but they're running against time. zayne's appeared to just have stepped out of the shower - one towel wrapped around his waist and the other around his shoulders. rafayel makes him sit, unboxes the cake and lights the candled up with his evol. "the round lil guy is called snowyblobbu. he used to live alone in the mountains. everyone's afraid of him because they thought he was the abominable snowman, but he's actually just a sad, lonely guy. then, one day mr frosty came, who is just as lonely and sad. so they became friends and watched the spring together through a snow globe since neither could ever leave winter."
his finger then moved to the three snowman placed next to the cake, obviously proud of his own work of art. "and here, there's you, one tiny snowman. the other two larger snowmans are your parents. you're a family of snowmen. and there, behind the flowers is me. i'm lying hidden, out of sight. that's right - i'm spying on you to make sure you aren't slacking off on your birthday." a laugh. he presses both hands on zayne's shoulder. it's 11:58pm. "alright, storytime's over. we have two minutes left so go on, make a wish and blow off those candles, doctor."
he hadn't been expecting the painter's presence, tensing imperceptibly when the sudden words ring out in the darkness of his apartment. he looks up, pausing his motion to look at rafayel, before eyes drop down to the intricate, ice-blue cake on his counter-top, silvery candles adorned against the icing.
he taps the little snowmans, fingers soft on the delicate, sugar-spun figurines. rafayel is rather cute when he tries to wax poetic, the allegory clumsy yet endearing as it's woven. his intent eyes find the curve of rafayel's jaw, glinting in sharp, unknown shadows in the flicker of the candle light. despite their ups & downs; their constant disagreements & fights, zayne can't help but believe that rafayel cares. he supposes that working together has forced them both to understand the other perspective.
" i suppose the snowyblobbu & mr. frosty both felt less alone. " he looks at the various figurines scattered across the cake, and picks the ornament from behind the flowers, shoving it smack centre. "i don't think that's quite accurate. i believe you'd be in the middle soaking up all the attention, no?" he smiles, but the genuine quirk to it is merely teasing, not mean. "the cake is lovely, rafayel. you didn't have to."
