This is something I was inspired to write from seeing this beautiful piece by @daikonfarmer !
The studio smelled of paint, turpentine, and something uniquely himâsalt and the faintest trace of sea breeze, though the ocean was miles away.
You watched Rafayel from where you perched on the oversized couch, sipping on a cold drink while he stood in front of his latest work, shirt half-unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, dark curls a mess from where heâd run his hands through them in frustration.
âYouâre staring again.â
Your lips quirked. âItâs not my fault you paint like youâre making love to the canvas.â
Rafayel stilled, then shot you a sideways glance, his mouth twitching into a smirk. âIs that so?â
âMhm.â You stretched lazily, eyes locked onto the large painting before you. âWhatâs this one about, anyway?â
He didnât answer immediately. Instead, he took a step back, rubbing his jaw, gaze dark with something unreadable.
The painting was breathtakingâa vast ocean under a twilight sky, waves crashing wildly, but in the center stood a woman.
Her back was to the viewer, but you could feel the weight of longing in every brushstroke. Her gown clung to her figure, flowing like water, her hair lifted by the wind. But it wasnât just the technique that made your breath catchâit was something familiar about her.
Rafayel inhaled deeply, as if he had been waiting for you to notice.
A strange shiver ran down your spine.
âI donât remember posing for this.â
He turned to you fully now, leaning against the edge of his worktable, arms crossed over his sculpted chest. His gaze never wavered, but there was something heavy in itâlike he was waiting for you to catch up to a secret he had known for far too long.
âYou said it was just a story,â you murmured, eyes flickering back to the painting.
âMaybe.â His voice was lower now, silk and shadows. âOr maybe youâve forgotten.â
You swallowed, suddenly too warm. Rafayel had always been intense, but this? This felt like standing at the edge of something you werenât ready to see.
âOkay, cryptic artist man,â you tried to joke, forcing lightness into your tone. âLetâs say I âforgot.â Forgot what, exactly?â
âThat you once loved me enough to defy the gods.â
He pushed off the table, crossing the space between you in a few slow, deliberate steps. His fingers brushed your cheek, tilting your chin up until your breath hitched.
âYou look at me like a stranger,â he murmured, his lips barely inches from yours, âbut I have spent lifetimes remembering you.â
Your heart was a wild thing in your chest, but before you could form a thoughtâbefore you could runâhe kissed you.
Like a man tasting something stolen, like an artist afraid his masterpiece might disappear if he didnât hold onto it tight enough. His hands cradled your face, his body pressing flush against yours, heat rolling off him in waves.
Your fingers found their way into his hair, pulling, making him groan against your lips. He deepened the kiss, and for a moment, for a single, breathless secondâ
A wedding beneath a storm-lit sky.
âSay youâll find me again.â
You gasped, breaking the kiss, stumbling back.
âWhat was that?â Your voice shook.
Rafayel stared at you, his breathing uneven, his own shock mirroring yours. He reached out, hesitated, then let his hand drop.
âYou saw it, didnât you?â
You could still feel the phantom waves, the taste of salt and lightning.
âTell me Iâm crazy,â you whispered.
His smirk was sad this time. âI wish I could.â
And just like that, the past you had forgotten began to paint itself back into your mindâ
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