I know some writers love to make the Itoshi brothers fight over the reader but now that I am realistically trying to think about it, I don't think so that'll ever happen irl.
If you're Sae's girlfriend there's 0% chance Rin's gonna fall in love with you. Instead he'll hate you, will be jealous of you because you're loved by Sae, instead of HIM! How dare you snatch his brother away from him?
If you're Rin's girlfriend, Sae will be too busy suspecting you of being a gold digger/clout chaser. He'll probably even do a secret investigation on you by hiring a private detective just so he can understand your motives. He'll do everything to make sure his little brother won't end up being heartbroken. And finally, when he'll come to realise that your feelings for Rin are real, it'll be hard for him to accept. Because what do you mean the little boy whose drool he used to wipe all the time is now kissing and fucking a woman? He'll have a hard time accepting.
It'll be really funny being one of their lovers. You'll get to enjoy the Itoshi family drama, haha.
Switching from one job to another as a maid wasn't easy when you had no home to go back to and your many bad experiences with previous employers. Somehow, you'd ended up as the maid for Itoshi Sae, a famous footballer. He was back in Japan to train for an upcoming match and needed someone to take care of things at his estate. You kept things in order as best as you could, in fear of his intimidating presence. As a few mishaps occur here and there, you're convinced Sae despises you even more - but he doesn't fire you, for some reason.
previous | masterlist | read on ao3
Final, last ever chapter of UNSPOKEN RULES! My final words are at the end...Obviously, it's not a long/detailed chapter as it is just an epilogue, but I cried so much writing this ending.
P.S keep an eye out for the manuscript she was reading (on my profile) 👀
6 MONTHS LATER
Keys jangled in your hand as you punched in the code. The door unlocked and the warmth of home greeted you.
You slipped off your shoes in the foyer, rolling your shoulders and placing your heavy backpack on the floor. The weight of your day fell with it - your laptop, water bottle, thick textbook. At least you'd bought lunch on campus, because just the thought of carrying it in the morning made your arms ache.
"You're back early."
His deep voice was near and you glanced up in surprise. You weren't sure why, even if his schedule was irregular, he was here with you every day.
Sae stood by the hallway arch, one hand loosely in his pocket. He wore his dark blue fleece, long sleeves pushed up to reveal his wrists, paired with his track pants. His reddish hair was not a strand out of place from how he'd styled it this morning.
His back was straight and he was expressionless, just as he was on the field. But from what you saw, his shoulders were relaxed and his face was free of tension.
"So are you," you replied, softly.
The house smelled faintly of burning candles; light vanilla and sandalwood. Before university began, the two of you spent free days turning the house into a home.
A wreath on the door outside and fairy lights strung along the edges of rooms. You'd picked out art pieces together to add color to the empty walls.
Even without decoration, the house was now lived-in. It must have been unrecognizable for Sae, with how lifeless it was before - where you'd ran out of things to clean back then.
He'd brought the framed photos with his family, especially ones of him and Rin, to display downstairs. There was a photo of you and Sae too, or, the only one.
It was taken at a funfair a while ago. You were glancing to the cotton candy in your hand, with Sae watching you. Rin was the one who'd taken the candid picture, since both you and Sae weren't fond of taking personal photos - even as a public figure, Sae didn't have social media.
In the foyer, Sae stepped closer; so did you.
Like gravity had shifted, the space between you closed. A faint crease of concentration lingered between his brows. Unlike the expression he must've carried mentoring at Blue Lock, this one was contemplative.
His fingers brushed your wrist first, before anything else. He still tested affection, not only for you, but seemingly for himself.
"How was it?" he asked. "And the drive?"
You nodded, although the familiar flutter from his touch made your thoughts blurry. "The…the drive was fine."
You'd passed your driver's exam recently. Sae allowed you to regularly use his white manual car; the one he'd taught you the basics on.
It was an honor, considering how good of a car it was and that it was his. It was precisely the reason why you were terrified in case you'd do anything to the car, but also glad you didn't get a brand new one either - even if his seemed unused to the point of being new.
Before your first day of university, you did a test drive to the campus and parking area, with Sae in the passenger seat. Driving to unfamiliar places gave you anxiety, even with a navigator - where you often doubted if you even followed the correct directions.
Your university was the closest one to Sae's estate. The two of you walked around the campus, familiarizing yourself with where you'd spend the next few years of your life studying. At least you'd gotten a glimpse, even if it wasn't enough for you to recognize each building for your first day.
"What did you get up to?" he asked.
You recalled the details of the day and things that made your mouth dry - crowded halls, introductions and icebreakers. You'd heard that by next week, the lectures and classes wouldn't be anywhere near how full it was on the first day.
"A cohort introduction and I had my first class after," you responded. "I met a few girls."
His hand trailed up to your shoulder, as if the tension was calling out to him. The fingers mindlessly kneaded the stiffness that had already developed. The touch was careful, in case you'd retreat from him. "You did?"
"Mm. They were nice," you said, with a breath.
They were really nice, in fact. You weren't sure how long it would last. In a way, it was a relief the girls in your first class didn't know anyone else either. You bonded over that, and the subject you were studying.
It seemed like everyone else had already made friends on the course, even though it was only the first day of the semester. Everyone had sat and spoken in groups.
You'd taken courses and classes before you applied to university, and you'd made a few friends during them - but they were older than you. They were your seniors that you'd gotten advice from, since they were in further paths of life than you.
You feared having nothing to talk about with people your age, but it was for nothing. Other people were just as awkward as you, creating a common ground. It placed you and them on the same level where no one intimidated each other.
"Well done," he spoke gently, before placing his other hand on your shoulder too. Both of his arms enclosed you, and you had nowhere to look but his bright eyes.
A small smile tugged at your lips at the praise, no longer rare from him - at least, towards you. "How was your day?"
"Boring. Must we talk about it?" Sae sighed.
Whenever Sae told you about the ruthless methods Ego used to weed out the best players in Blue Lock, the program sounded deranged and cutthroat, not boring. Then again, Sae must have experienced similar training himself, and therefore he still saw the Blue Lock players at an intermediate level.
"What do you want to talk about?" you asked.
His eyes fell to your lips. You'd only began to understood Sae's thoughts as time went by, and when he wanted you. You just still couldn't deduce exactly how much he wanted you.
"Anything," he muttered, leaning his face even closer, while one hand trailed to your jaw. The other snaked to your waist, fingers gently kneading the skin the same way he did to your shoulder.
Before you knew it, his lips latched onto yours. He didn't waste time against your lips and your slight gasp, before his kiss grew passionate. He tasted like sweet dates and ripe fruit.
Months had passed and it still felt just as magic as your first kiss, considering how intense the first was.
You'd never be used to the desperation in his kiss, contrasting his calculated persona. Gone was the cold footballer and against your body was the man he allowed himself to be.
Your body slightly swayed, dizzy from the lack of air or simply just him. He grasped your waist, supporting your body against his strong arm.
As your mouth opened with a breath, he pulled back and rested his forehead against yours, catching his breath.
Kissing him buzzed you, ridding of your exhaustion, despite how light-headed the lack of oxygen left you.
"Do you want dinner now?" he asked, closing his eyes.
You shook your head, still coming down from his lips. Continuing the conversation seemed out of the question after such a kiss. "Not yet. Think…I wanna go out and stretch my body a bit."
"Shall we go for a walk?"
Your brose rose, making him rethink.
"Bike ride?" he asked.
You chuckled, at how quickly he understood. "If you're tired, I can go myself."
"Do I look tired?" he scoffed, leaning further into your forehead. You lightly shook your head at his defensiveness.
You became accustomed to the bicycle Sae lent you, for when you were volunteering at the library, while you were still learning how to to drive. While you stopped volunteering because of university, you continued to enjoy cycling through the forest.
It was scary at first, considering how high his bikes were and how you hadn't ridden one since you were a young girl, but you quickly grew confident at it. Sae thought it was unsafe, at least, how unstable it looked to him.
"Slow down," he called, from behind you.
You were going down a slight gradient. It wasn't too downhill to make you speed up without pedaling and you kept to the edge of the road in case of a car. Still, you pressed the brake handles to give him peace of mind, and for him to catch up.
The wind dried your eyes as you glided through the forest, that was once empty of leaves when you first began to work for Sae.
You remembered the daunting feeling of walking to Sae's estate for the first time, like it was yesterday. Branches of trees swallowed you up and blew water off of them, spitting you in the face.
Now, trees were full of green leaves and mud on the floor had almost dried, welcoming you along the path as though you'd become apart of it.
A relieved laugh escaped you, at how refreshing the spring air was against your face.
You'd never seen Itoshi Sae sweat, not physically or mentally. He'd never been nervous when he scored a goal, nor had he been careful to not hurt someone's feelings.
Yet, Sae's apprehensive voice behind you almost made you completely brake, from how rare it was.
"Why do you go ahead?" he asked, voice closer to you. "What if a car comes?"
He soon popped up beside you on his own bicycle, breeze blowing and fanning through his hair. You slowed even more, so you could stay next to each other.
"Sorry," you said sheepishly. It didn't take much to have a conversation while cycling, since pedaling wasn't an effort for you. "I get excited."
The short breath he let out was in between a scoff and laugh. "To get away from me?"
"That's not possible," you spoke.
"Lies," he said. You didn't miss his tut, even with the cycling.
"It is true, Sae. The idea of leaving you is foreign to me."
In the moment, while you were cycling through the bumpy forest and speaking over the wind, it was the most you could say regarding your feelings for him.
Sae went silent, and for a moment you wondered if he'd even heard you.
"It's like you want me to crash into a tree," he said.
You glanced at him for a second, before returning to the trees surrounding the path in front of you. "Hm?"
He didn't respond and sped up ahead of you, even though he'd just expressed his worry of you going ahead.
"Wait for me," you said, pedaling to catch up. Sae only sped up faster, like he was running away from you. "Sae!"
You didn't miss the smirk on his face as he cycled away.
"What did you mean earlier, when we were bike-riding?"
Sae's fingers stopped their caressing of your wrist, at your question. He shuffled beside you, almost uneasy.
"I should ask you the same thing," he responded.
You fought back a sigh. He really had a talent of avoiding the question.
"What do you mean?"
After the bike ride, the two of you returned to shower and have dinner, before settling down for the evening. You still used your own room, but you spent most nights sleeping beside Sae in his bed. It was both pleasant to unapologetically curl up to him, and cruel to wake up to him leaving the warmth for work. You'd done the same in the morning for the first time for university, the chill hitting you harder to leave his arms.
With Sae around, you couldn't picture yourself not having a life outside of work.
You were still young and had developed workaholic habits while you were a maid. You didn't want to carry them as a student. Being a student was about being proactive, after all.
"What you said about leaving me."
"Do you believe it's a lie?" you asked.
"I can't understand why you speak to me with high regard," he responded.
You paused, stilling against the headboard. Sae's long legs shifted under his duvet that you both shared.
The room faintly smelled of orange candles that Sae replaced his coral peony ones with, something to focus on while you searched for the words. His thumb continuing its tracing over your wrist didn't do much to keep your thoughts clear.
He wasn't asking for praise. You'd once spoken to him with respect because he was your boss, and because you'd been terrified of him. Now, you still spoke to him in such a way, except, sincerity replaced duty.
"Do you remember a while ago when…I told you I had nothing to give you?" you recalled. "It was because you gave me the world, just by seeing me."
Sae went silent, but he didn't need the cogs in his brain to turn for long. "You speak as though you don't give me the same."
"But I don't," you protested in a whisper. "I completely changed because of you."
Sae took in a deep breath, before releasing it in a sigh.
"I did nothing to change you, nor did you change that much," he replied, tapping his fingers against your wrist.
"My life turned around," you compromised, with a head tilt.
"Your circumstances changed. But you've stayed the same as the beginning," he responded. You blinked, confused."You don't need to change. Maybe that'll be clear soon."
3 YEARS LATER
She stopped in her tracks, breath hitching.
The sight was directly in front of the window. How could she not look?
The man was shirtless. Water dripped down his body as he tipped a bottle to his mouth. Most of the cold liquid went past his lips, but some droplets escaped and glistened at his jaw. It trickled and clung to the black hair that framed his face. His green eyes were closed, savoring the coolness after his hard labor.
His figure was that of a bodybuilder's dream. Broad shoulders and large trapezius muscles tapered into a small waist. He was wide, yet proportioned gloriously with his tall height and abs made of steel.
His mouth was latched around the bottle, until his eyes opened.
She stumbled back from the window, flattening herself against the wall, next to the curtain. Her face heated and the wall did nothing to cool it, as her heart sped and breathing quickened.
Had he seen her?
Of course.
Five minutes stood away from the window would be safe, or even ten if she wanted certainty. Or, she could drop to the floor and crawl so no sight of her existence was visible.
"Working on vacation. How disobedient."
Your head snapped up, rearing it to him. Sae approached, shirtless and dripping with water - far more than the man in the manuscript.
He wiped his face and ran his hands through his wet darkened hair, before grabbing a towel. You set the papers beside you under a book, to not blow away under the windy sky.
His muscular body blocked and shadowed the evening sun. It was the first time you'd seen Valencia's beach in the summer, unlike the first time you'd gone with the gray horizon. The ocean was beautifully blue, tides cascading and thrashing.
However, just like last time, you were both antisocial and avoided the crowd of strangers at the main part of the beach, opting to walk and sit far away.
"I enjoy this one, so I brought it along," you said.
"Oh? Show me," he said, putting the towel over his shoulders and back, before sitting beside you on the towel. He smelled of the salty sea, sunscreen and surprisingly his cologne that hadn't entirely worn off.
You shook your head, rubbing your bare arm. "Never mind…"
"I wonder if it's another romance," he remarked, a taunting glint in his teal eyes, reflecting the sea.
"Mm…" you hummed neutrally, not wanting to answer.
"We'll see if it makes the cut. You seem to let anything slide," he bantered dryly.
"I don't have that much choice," you said.
Your internship was at a publishing house that you'd been doing alongside your fourth year of university. It was fairly easy and manageable, where you mostly read manuscripts and wrote up reports.
The publishing company ensured employment for interns after they graduated. You loved how flexible and lenient of a place it was.
The work could be done remotely, from anywhere. It helped when you and Sae had come back to Spain.
You'd first landed and stayed in his Madrid villa. He spent the first few weeks in meetings at ReAl Madrid's head offices. He was arranging his return to the team, where he was looking to play with them again next year - after you'd finish university. You'd spent the time in Madrid studying and working, submitting your final assignments for the first semester.
You'd hoped before that your plans would align with his. While it was true that you'd have employment and a life outside of him, while he returned to soccer, you also didn't feel his return was permanent.
After mentoring at Blue Lock for a few years, Sae realized he always wanted to strive for different things. The constant in his life was you.
Then, you had summer off of university for a few weeks, where you both decided to catch a break in Valencia. It made sense to go back to the same hotel, although you'd purposely chosen a suite with only one bed this time.
"Want to walk along the shore?" asked Sae. You nodded, placing your book and manuscripts into your bag. Sae buttoned his shirt on after drying himself off.
Many things had changed between you and Sae since you last came here, but you felt like you were the same girl.
You still hadn't learned to swim, even with the pool at Sae's estate, and you still read by the shore. You were still shy around most people, even if you'd made a few great friends at university.
You didn't notice you were in thought about it until you felt the stroke of Sae's hand against yours. You looked down, realizing you'd kept your hands in your pockets.
"Sorry," you said, loosely intertwining your warm hand with his, that was cold from the water.
"What were you thinking about?" he asked, slowly trailing beside you.
Scents of damp sand and the salty sea filled your nostrils. The sand was quiet below your sandals, giving you enough room to think. "About the last time we were here."
You glanced out to the azure blue sea that merged colors with the sky on the horizon. Hues of pink, gold and purple painted the sea. The shadows of your silhouettes reflected on the sand as you stepped.
"If only I read your mind back then," Sae responded, keeping his head forward to the long stretch of the beach.
You'd been paranoid the entire vacation back then, as to whether it would be the last time you'd see Sae. If it were Sae's way of saying his final goodbye to you, as your feelings for him only expanded because of the trip to Spain.
"I'm not that complex, Sae."
"You are good at hiding how you feel," he responded.
You swallowed. "I always was. I had to, before."
You had no parents, friends or any family. The world would have swallowed you whole already if you'd been open about how you felt. You thought it was easier to bottle it all up, but you'd crashed and crashed when Sae became the person to notice you.
"You're good at hiding it too," you added, gently.
You turned to him, and the corners of his lips had lightly lifted. "You have no idea."
You blinked, brows furrowing to as if to ask him what he meant.
He slowed in his tracks and released your hand.
As he faced you, he looked the same as he did years ago too. He had a slight tan from the Spanish weather, with a loosely-fitted salmon-colored shirt and white shorts. His crimson hair had slightly grown, but you didn't doubt he'd trim it soon.
Both of you were a few years older now, yet you were the exact same.
"Throughout my life, I was weak. No amount of training or working in Spain could have improved that," he confessed.
You stilled at the sudden vulnerability, but it prompted him to continue. Despite Sae's past confessions, it wasn't often that he entirely opened up like this.
"Since I first saw you, I thought about you every single moment," he said. Your shoulders almost jerked at the words. You didn't think his sentences were related, or that you had anything to do with it. "I think I loved you from the beginning. I just didn't know what the feeling was at the time."
"Sae, I…"
"It was all you. Do you hear me?" he said. His handsome face looked both conflicted and relieved, as he released a breath.
"What do you mean?" you asked, softly. It was all confusing, how his words fell out. They were heartfelt, but you didn't know where they were suddenly coming from and what he was bottling up.
Sae's knee dipped into the cold sand.
A gasp escaped you. You took a step back.
Salty tears fell onto your tongue and fogged your vision before you even realized.
Both of his hands held a velvet navy box, one at the bottom and the other above the lid. The glare of the sun bounced off of a platinum ring, like a light ray.
Your lashes flickered quickly, clearing your vision in case Sae would vanish from you into thin air.
"I don't want this to cause you stress. We can do this whenever you want." His voice was gentle, yet it cut through the pounding of your heart in your ears. "I know we are still young. But I wonder if you'll accept me for the rest of our lives. Would you…marry me?"
You focused on his nervous face, wanting to memorize the moment forever, even if it was all a dream.
Your mouth opened, but you couldn't gather the words. You took one more step back and covered your face, silently crying into your hands.
"Are…you alright?" His gentle, yet uneasy voice made you realize how you must've worried him.
You quickly nodded, lowering your hands to reveal your teary face and red eyes. "It's just…are you real?"
A small chuckle escaped him, relieved.
"I'm real. This is real."
You sniffled, calming from his reassuring voice, but you still couldn't string a sentence together.
"I told you that love makes you weak, but it made me stronger," he said. "I am entirely untouchable because you love me, and because I love you."
Your heart soared as your life flashed before your eyes. There was never a moment you imagined this as a little girl.
"Yes," you breathed. "Yes. Of course, I want to marry you, Sae."
His deep sigh filled you with more guilt that you'd accidentally worried him.
He lifted the box again. "May I?"
You shakily held out your hand, feeling like feather as you neared it to him.
"W-wait," you said, scanning the ring. It was a platinum band, with a small diamond at the center.
His brows rose, pausing. "Are you okay?"
"What does it say?" you whispered, spotting the engraved words on the inside ring.
His shoulders lowered, releasing the tension for what felt like the millionth time in this special moment. He lifted the ring out of the box. "Take a look."
Your fingers brushed his as you carefully took the ring, turning it to read the engraved words.
You are my sympathy, my better self, my good angel.
"Jane Eyre," your voice came out in another whisper.
"Powerful flame, fuses you and me in one," he repeated, a small smile tinging on his lips at the familiarity. "However it is."
At your shocked pause, he set the box down and took the ring from you. His other hand held yours like it were glass, and slowly slid the platinum ring onto your finger.
You lowered to your knees, sand shifting beneath you. Your hands grasped his shoulders, before wrapping your arms around his neck.
"I've always loved you too, I swear it," you murmured into his neck, tears starting again.
His hands settled at your waist, before pulling back just enough to look at you. He lifted his thumb, wiping under your eyes.
"No more tears over me," he muttered.
"How can I not?" you said, quietly. "I-it's just…I never would've imagined to get this far. I thought I'd be stuck, forever."
He let out a shaky breath and gently stroked down your shoulder.
"Sae, I…I think you should stand."
With your close proximity, your voice broke in a small murmur. His brows furrowed at your words.
"Why? Do you not want this?" he asked, although he knew the answer.
The tide thrashed beside you, bringing the sounds of the beach back to your attention, while your gaze remained on his face.
His cyan eyes were the softest you'd ever seen them.
"No, I…I want it more than anything in the world." Your fingers lightly curled into his shirt.
"Then, why?"
"I don't like to see you on the ground, kneeling for so long," you mumbled.
You felt the low rumble of his chuckle, on his chest. "Silly girl."
The both of you held each other still, making your breathing even. You felt the race of his heart under your cheek, as you rested your face against it. The sky deepened its shade into lavender and burnt orange.
You pulled back. His hand caressed along your face, trailing over every crevice and slowing when his fingers trailed over your lips.
His lips brushed yours, gently and briefly at first, before kissing your cheek. Kisses trailed along your jaw, as if he were worshiping you.
His hand slid up your back and pressed you so close that there was no space left between you both. The sea breeze blew through his hair, lips touching yours reverently.
You melted and sighed into him, fingers trailing to his damp hair.
Your lips parted and deepened the kiss. He tilted his face to yours, inhaling you.
Unconsciously, you shifted closer and his hand tightened around you, earning a small sound out of you. You barely registered your smile into the kiss, with how overwhelmed and full of love you were.
He pulled back, forehead resting against yours as his breathing was uneven and his pupils were wide.
"Let's…slow down," he murmured, surprising you. You were usually the one saying that to him.
You blinked, dazed. "Why?"
"Because," he began, nose brushing lightly against yours, "we should make it back to the hotel."
Your body went warm at the implication and a small smile formed on your face.
He exhaled, pressing a final, light kiss to your lips. "Shall we go?"
Final words A/N: That's a wrap!! Thank you so much to anyone who has supported Unspoken Rules this far - if you’ve been here since Chapter 1, joined midway, or if you’re a future reader. I wrote it for over a year and the fic was also put on hold a lot during many ups and downs; I’m proud I persevered to the end.
Unspoken Rules derived from the Wattpad original romances I read in my preteen years and it evolved into a story about confidence, love, warmth, growth, family and more.
If you ever have any thoughts/questions about Unspoken Rules at ANY time, please send away to my inbox or comment at any time. Even if it’s in the future and time has passed since the fic came out - it never bothers me in the slightest because I love & appreciate any thoughts from anyone!
Take care & again keep an eye out for that manuscript she was reading on my profile 😉
Out of all the LIs, Rafayel has the most villain potential imo. If he decided to punish everyone who ever took advantage of the lemurians, I would be on his side
OP I hope I'm not hijacking this post too hard but a tag of yours is right on the money
"imagine someone displaying one of your people’s bones as art"
This isn't fiction- this is reality.
What Rafayel is experiencing with Lemurians in fiction is a very scary parallel to some real things that have happened and continue to happen in the real world.
Mentions of human remains and museum work stuff below the cut
I know I've got a lot of folks from around the world who follow me, so for those who aren't from the US we have something called the "Native American Grave Protection and Repatriation Act", also known as NAGPRA. It was created to protect and return human remains of indigenous tribes from museums to their local tribes within the US.
It's an incredibly flawed system with a lot of wiggle room, but most reputable museums follow it.
When a museum finds out that it is in possession of human remains, burial goods, or spiritually significant artifacts it is required by law to contact the tribe it belongs to and negotiate how to move forward.
Speaking from personal experience, I worked/volunteered at a museum where I found a list of items donated in the '60s. And it included a part of an Indigenous woman's body. I reported the list to the museum director and she confirmed it was part of a repatriation case that had happened before she was hired. But the original list had been missing so it was lucky I found it while researching.
But for many years this museum and many others had human remains that had been dug up and stolen from their resting place, used as trophies, or just used for entertainment or decoration.
We see this in LADS with Rafayel and the Lemurians, but as someone who was trained in archaeology and museum work? I immediately made the connection to the United States and how it treats our Indigenous groups.
And if we look internationally, the British Museum is equally awful. We think as mummies as monsters or villains in Scooby Doo, but they were the mummified remains of human beings. The main reason why they're treated like art or decoration is because they were denied their humanity and personhood.
Regarding Rafayel, a Lemurian isn't a human, but we do see this "dehumanization" Lemurians face as they are stripped of their personhood entirely.
Damn, you just made me realise that the depiction of mummies as monsters in the western media is literally the white person gaze of a foreign culture which, if it differs even so slightly from what they are used to, is presented in a derogatory, negative way. And doesn't matter how sacred significance these remains had for ancient civilization
Now I can't stop thinking about it😐
As for Rafayel, I'm glad that devs weren't afraid to add such topics to the game. I remember when I was reading the first chapters of the main story and hints about experiments on lemurians and Rafayel's murders began to appear I was overcome with such strong emotions. This is probably one of the reasons why of all the lis I loved him the most. Guilt for not being able to prevent all of these as a Sea God, revenge for his people and love for a human girl. Angst mmh
Plot Abstract: You’ve always taken a great interest in Professor Rafayel’s sketches. Every line and curve he draws feels like black and white paintings given life. Desperate to know how he works his magic, you make a wish. One he seeks to fulfil by giving you a private lesson. However, your hot tutor has a special way of teaching his favorite student.
The wind at Whitesand Bay carry the scent of the sea – salty, fresh, satisfying with just a tinge of paint tint and spicy musk, all intertwined in the gentle whiffs of rose petals and scented candles. Rafayel’s mansion as always is a safe space to clear the mind, heart and soul after a tiring week.
Walking into your Lemurian lover’s home in a mini skirt, a sweater and thigh-high boots, your feet click-clack on the marble tiles, alerting the house’s owner. Hearing your footsteps, Rafayel lifts his head from a pile of paperwork on his table. Legs crossed, chin resting on his wrist encircled by a Rolex watch and rings, his blue pink eyes glow a subtle hue behind the lucid lens of reading glasses.
His eyes are perfectly fine, but he’s once confessed that wearing glasses sometimes makes the title ‘Professor’ feel like a part of him. Like an anchor it keeps him grounded during lectures and it instils a sense of discipline in students who think him too young or too pretty.
You couldn’t care less about what his students think or the role the accessory plays. He looks sexy in those glasses and he knows it. Especially today when he’s wearing that black turtleneck you love so much. The right side of his lips curl into a smile. He knows he looks good. He always does.
“Hey, cutie. I missed ya.” Rafa taps his brown couch twice, setting down the red pen in his right hand. He’s scoring his students. He’s so hot that you imagine shoving the books and piles of paper off the table, then kissing him senseless. But the thought remains imprisoned in your head – for now.
“Hey Rafa. Whatcha doing?” The question leaves your lips with a sweet tone as your arms wrap his shoulders. Your lips plant lovely warmth on his cheeks and nose in kisses. He chuckles. Ears and cheeks glowing a pretty shade of red. How cute.
“I gave my students an assignment to improve their skills in shading. Now I’m grading them. Looks good so far. I’m glad they pay attention in class.” His words carry a drop of ego and a dash of pride.
“Oh, anyone would listen to your Rafa. Your voice is like honey to the ears.” Flustered by your own words you avoid his gaze. Too quick to speak and you can’t bite the words back. It’s his fault for being so perfect.
“Oh? You think my voice ear candy, cutie?” With one arm, he guides you to sit on his thighs. His arms slide around your waist, pressing tightly yet gentle enough to feel your softness while giving you comfort.
“I hope other parts of me are just as sweet to you.” Rafayel coos in a husky whisper. His hot breath fanning your neck like it isn’t warm enough already.
“Those look really good. I don’t think anyone would get a bad grade.” You change the topic.
Rafayel smiles. One moment you’re riling him up, the next you’re a coward to your desires. How very typical of you, but he loves it. This side of you is what makes teasing more fun.
“Yeah. They applied what was taught. That’s how to be a good student you know?”
Your eyes remain fixed on the sketches. They’re all good but they’re nothing compared to drawings on his sketchbook sitting right next to the stack of papers. As always, Rafayel’s sketches are outstanding. Like his paintings each one reaches the heart, touches the soul and puzzles the mind.
“I wish I could draw like you.” The words shoot straight from your heart.
Rafayel gently turns your face to meet his gaze “Anyone can draw, cutie. You just gotta put your pencil on the note and go with the flow of your heart. You know…I can teach you things I’m good at pretty easily. Want a private lesson?” His voice rolls from a bold tune to a slutty whisper.
“P…private lesson?”
“Yes.” Rafayel’s lips press on your neck once, twice and then a bite.
“Professor Rafayel would be honored to give his favorite student a lesson. Just say the word and my time is yours, cutie.”
You can’t hold back the whimper that slips off your lips. This is a bad idea, yet it’s a good one. You might not learn a thing but you might learn something new.
After a deep breath not from hesitation but determination, you turn to meet his gaze, your words clear as the skies in summer “Teach me.”
A smirk plays on Professor Rafayel’s lips. He takes in a deep breath and lets it go. Loud, deep, hot.
“Good girl. I’ll make sure to teach you well.”
With those words, he pulls you close so you’re sitting between his parted legs. There’s something arousing about seeing your boots perched between his shoes. Your thighs look inviting from above between his legs. Too inviting. You already know this but it hits you twice as hard now – your skirt is much too short.
You feel his eyes on your thighs. The fiend in you loves it, but the angel you try to be gets flushed hot all over and spouts any words your brain can find “Why are we in this position, Rafa? Doesn’t proper learning etiquette require eye contact between teacher and student?”
“Mmm…” His voice rumbles in his chest like a purr. You love when he does that.
“True. However, this is my lesson. My class, my rules. Also, I’d like to show you a simple sketch for an example and I can’t draw if you stare at me. I forget to draw whenever a certain someone does that.”
A giggle leaves you. He speaks so boldly, yet you don’t need to see his face to know he’s tomato red right now “Alright Professor. Do as you wish.”
Rafayel coughs burying his face on your nape “Rule number one. Don’t say things…like that.”
Maybe it’s the close proximity or the tightness of the fabric he’s wearing, but you can feel his heart beat rapidly against your back. Each thrum racing the last like galloping horses set free. His blood in a rush for you.
He lets out a hot breath against your neck. The hairs on your skin stand, heat flushes over every inch of you. Nerves set alight with a new frenzy.
“Let’s start with something simple, yeah? A fish.” Rafayel places his sketchbook on your thighs and in hasty lines there’s a gorgeous fish on the once blank page. The layering is exceptional and his technique unlike no other. The simple art of lines takes the shape of fish one could claim real.
“Wow. This is looks incredible and in just a few seconds? You’re a genius Rafayel” You can’t see Rafa’s face but you can feel him smile from ear to ear at your astonishment. He likes being praised.
He flips over the page and presents you with one blank. The pencil once in his hand slides into yours. He lets his hold on yours still for a few seconds savoring the feel of your skin and he lets go.
“Your turn.”
“What should I draw?”
“Same thing, cutie. A fish. And no, you can’t do it that cute way you always do when you literally draw the figure ‘8’ and clean off the bottom, replace it with a straight line for a tail and then call it a day.” His silken voice mellows with a rough edge. He sounds stern.
Flustered with embarrassment you try to snap back but your words are caught between silly stutters. His breath brushing over your neck doesn’t help either. He’s much too close.
“I…I…only did that once.”
“I know cutie. And I loved it. I love anything you draw. Even if you draw a fish like a kettle.” He laughs. The moment you try to turn your neck, his lips meet yours with a gentle tap. How cunning.
Feigning anger, you turn away from his gaze, eyes burning holes into the blank page before you. Sensing he’s teased you too far, Rafayel’s palm sits on your head. Your tight muscles loosen at the feel of it. You heart melts into his touch.
“Being a good artist does require a lot of skills, cutie. Some unique to every artist. But one of the most important steps when attempting art is experimentation. Drawing again and again. And that takes patience, cutie. There’s no need to rush. Take in a deep breath.”
His palm leaves your head and rolls small circles around your shoulders and arms “Flex your arms. Relax. You’re too stiff. You’ve got to flow with your imagination. Don’t fight your hand. Let it interpret what you see in your mind’s eye the way it knows how.”
Rafayel’s hands slide down your arms and pushes up the sleeve of your dominant hand “Your sleeve is too long. Roll it up like this…expose your wrist.”
He brings your wrist to his lips, takes in a long whiff of your scent like one gone mad and licks it. A whimper escapes you and Rafayel smiles against your exposed flesh. He lets go of your wrist and presses his chest closer to your back. His racing heart drums against your skin with every breath he takes, every word he offers.
“My darling favorite student. I just had a fun idea. Wanna hear it?”
“Okay?”
What is he planning this time?
“The first lesson for Professor Rafayel’s private class is ‘Focus’. You need to be able to ignore distractions to be a good and efficient artist, because distractions are everywhere. So, while you draw, I’ll be your distraction. You can’t stop drawing. You mustn’t. Remember what I said about going with the flow of your heart and flowing with your art? It means no broken lines, no rogue marks, no mistakes. Not today.”
His hands slide under your sleeves, massaging your waist and the soft folds of flesh there. They feel so warm, so soft, so you. Rafayel bites down a moan and licks your nape.
“Should you make a single mistake, you’ll have to start again. You have only four tries. At the fourth time I’ll punish you.”
Your blood races through your veins in rapid pulses. Heat settles over your skin. Breathing seems a harder task than it should and not in the painful way like when anxiety would ruin you with panic attacks. No. This is different. With each stifled breath, a butterfly takes flight in the blooms within your tummy and chest.
“P…punish me? How?”
“I’d rather my favorite student be unprepared for her punishment should she get one. Now cutie, draw.” His voice travels with the breeze laced with something so intoxicating, shivers take control of your hands.
“You’re trembling, cutie.” He whispers next to your ear after a chaste kiss on the slant of your neck. “Relax.”
Taking in a deep breath and a shaky exhale, your fingers trace a curve slowly on the sketchbook. Then a pause when you feel Rafayel’s chest push close to you, like he seeks to merge his scent with yours. Despite having you between his thighs, he craves more of you.
His hands settle lazily on your calves, gliding up your knees and now your thighs. Every inch of his palm tracing over you as though committing the shape of you to memory. Each touch a light and teasing graze that sets your heart ablaze and burns your skin with want. No. Need.
“Keep going. Yeah just like that. Good job.” Rafayel’s praises ride into your ears in a sultry tone. His eyes focused on your trembling wrist as he feeds on your cute struggle. However, his hands don’t stop.
His fingers dig into your flesh when he reaches your thighs. You hear a muffled moan escape his lips. He buries his flushed face into to the hollow of your neck. Calloused hands and steady fingers now gliding up your waist and underneath your shirt. Then without warning he cups your breasts, pressing against the softness of flesh and smooth cotton of brassiere.
“Ngh…” You break at his touch. The once smooth curve on the sketchbook now a hasty line that runs across the page. Pulses echo between your thighs as sticky pools begin to gather. Your teeth finds your lower lip keeping the soft flesh trapped. You want him.
“What did I say about mistakes, my darling student?” Rafayel’s voice drops an octave lower.
“I want none.” He rips the sheet with your half drawing off the sketchbook and folds it. Your eyes catch him bury it in his pocket. You stifle a laugh. Even now he remains a yearner, obsessed with all you do and seeing no wrong in your work.
“Again.” One word and its command get your fingers moving. Pencil scratching over paper with both intent and a hint of fear.
A curve. Now another. A line and you pause yet again.
Rafayel’s hands massage your tummy and slides up your bra again. What a wrong day to wear a front closure bra. In a second with one finger he snaps at the zip and it comes undone, setting your girls free under your sleeves.
“You need as much comfort as you can possibly get…to draw…cutie.” His voice is stained with moans when his palms begin to knead your bare skin. Massaging your breasts. Kneading both with gentle circles and subtle pressure like he would clay.
“Rafa..ngh…I…I…”
“Shh…you’re squirming, cutie. Who said you could stop drawing? Eyes on the paper or you’ll get your second strike.”
You’re desperate to avoid the punishment he speaks of. Yet you’re eager to receive it. It’s a sweet torture you relish. A troublesome kind that’s sweet. While struggling to do as he says due to fear of the unknown, arousal flourishes at his wicked teasing. Delicious. Like him. You need him.
Fingers twitch with pencil as you start drawing again. Faster this time. Perhaps if you’re quick enough drawing this fish, the fish behind you won’t have any more reason to continue this torture – not that you want it to end.
“Don’t rush, cutie. Gently now. One stroke…all…the way…down.” Rafayel counts his words and without warning drags his tongue down the curve of your neck. The cold track over your burning skin draws a long moan from your parted lips. You need him inside you like you need air to breathe.
“Rafa…I…”
“It’s Professor to you. Focus.” At his words, Rafa sucks on your neck and bites down gently. His palms caress your breasts in one motion and in the whiff of a breath, he traps your painfully hard nipples between his thumbs and index fingers, pressing softly. The waters between your legs drip, soaking your panties shamelessly. Your legs as though on instinct part wider, meeting with his thighs.
Rafayel scoffs “You’re a naughty student, cutie. Careful now. Two more strikes and I’ll have to punish you.”
He presses on your nipples again, drags his tongue up your neck and like a devil born for lustful torture, he starts rolling your nipples between his fingers, tightly pulling.
Caution be damned. Bring on the punishment already.
Your hand grasps at the fragile pencil desperate for an anchor. The lid pierces into the paper and in a failed attempt to draw, your mistake tears right through the page. Professor Rafayel laughs. His voice thrumming in his chest and against your back.
“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Strike two. That punishment is getting closer, my dearest étudiante.” He rips off the torn page and like the last one folds it neatly and keeps it in his pocket.
“You’re getting messy, no?”
Your breath halts for a second at his words. What mess does he speak of? The ripped paper or the smear dripping down your thighs. Your walls pulse with desire, clamping down at nothing.
Torture.
“Again.” Rafayel coos next to your ear, nipping at your earlobe. His hands stroll down your tummy, grazing over the waist band of your mini skirt.
“You’re so warm.” His honeyed voice muffles against your left shoulder when his left hand sinks down the elastic waistband of your mini skirt, burying itself between the warmth of your thighs. His right hand caresses your right breast. His thumb brushing over your hard nipple quickly, bringing you to the edge.
“Rafa…I can’t…”
“You can’t what cutie? Draw? You can. Lesson one. Focus.” Pushing down the slacked neckline of your sweater, he sneers biting down on your shoulder. He palms your mound, dragging slow circles over your flesh. Riling up nerves that shouldn’t be excited during an art lesson.
Parting your legs wider to give him more access, your moans become clearer, sweeter, longer. Professor Rafayel bites down his lower lip keeping a moan in his throat but a grunt escapes him nonetheless.
“Eyes on the sketchbook, cutie. Keep drawing or I’ll stop.” He threatens. His fingers grazing over your clit in devishly slow circles. His free hand now working your left nipple, pinching, pulling, rolling as your waters spread more soaking his fingers.
“Don’t…ngh…stop…ah” Sritching over the blank page, your fingers make an unsteady attempt at a curve once more. It feels too good for him to stop. If drawing is what it takes to keep this sweet torture going, then draw you shall.
“You’re enjoying this way too much, cutie.” He whispers and his thumb smeared in your essence presses down on your clit.
A long moan tears through you and the curve on paper becomes a messy straight line once again.
“Strike three.” Rafayel laughs peppering your neck and exposed shoulder with kisses. He rips off the paper, folds it and places it in his pocket like a routine registered to muscle memory.
“Fourth strike and you’ll be punished, Miss.” He blows cool air through his lips over your left ear and whispers “Would you like to get more comfortable?”
You can only manage a nod, panting like the breath in your lungs would be nonexistent in any second.
At your response, Rafayel coos “Pull yourself up for me cutie.”
When you get off the small space between his legs, Rafayel pulls down your soaked panties. His fingers slowly pulling down the fabric while worshipping your skin in soft grazes leaving your bootheels on. He takes the panties off completely, sniffs the material and throws it to the end of the couch.
He pushes leans against the couch, back straight. “Sit”
You settle comfortably between his legs. His chest heaving against your back. “Relax your wrists, cutie. You can lean against me. Let me be your sofa.”
Taking a deep breath, legs spread apart, the sketchbook lifted in one hand, your dominant hand holding the pencil with a slight crack, you start drawing.
Rafayel doesn’t do a thing. He doesn’t touch you. He doesn’t kiss you. His eyes remain focused on your drawing. Finally, you can breathe. How unfortunate.
Just when you’re right at the edge of the second curve drawn on the sketchbook, Rafayel’s right hand quickly palms your mound. He inserts one finger long and slow into your core. You’re wet. Tight. And he loves it.
His voice eludes his soft lips unsteady. Despite his attempt to maintain composure he can’t. You feel so good. He’s missed you.
“You’re holding the pencil wrong, cutie. Flex your wrists. Curl your finger.” While his words roll of his lips, Rafayel’s finger curls inside you. His free hand palms one of your breasts, nipping at the flesh and teasing your nipple.
“Mmm, curl it a bit more.” His tongue leaves a wet cold trace over your neck. He slides in a second finger and stills, letting your walls clamp down and pulse against his digits.
“You should be drawing, cutie.”
Draw? Right now? That word no longer has meaning. Your hand feels weak. The pencil is sure to slip off your fingers, as you feel your grip on it loosen.
Desperate for friction, your back archs against him. Your eyes widen at the feel of something poking your backside. It feels pointy, full, huge, a tad wet. He’s hard.
The thought of Professor Rafayel getting hard from merely teasing you is arousing. Only it’s neither a thought, nor a figment of your imagination. It’s happening right now. He wants you just as much as you want him.
You circle your waist and hips. Subtly grinding and rubbing your backside against his bulge painfully pushing at fabric to be set free. Rafayel lets out a grunt. His face falls into the crook of your neck.
Feeling precum escape him, he bites down hard on his lower lip trying to regain composure which he does soon enough.
Rafayel takes his hand from under your sleeves and pinches your neck until you wince. He cools off the pain with his tongue whispering into your ear “You’re being a bad student.”
“Draw or I’ll take my fingers off you.”
Trembling, your dominant hand draws a shaky line over the page on the sketch book held up with your second hand.
“Good girl.” His praises follow slow thrusts into your core with his fingers, curling the way you love it.
“Ngh…ah…ah..,.Rafa…” Your moans echo the paces of his fingers thrusting you and he loves it. With a smirk Rafayel increases the pace of his thrusts. His free hand rolling one of your nipples. His thumb pressing down on your clit.
You feel your walls clench around his fingers and he feels it too. Wet. Tight. Greedy. The feel of your walls clamping down on his skin, makes Rafayel soak his pants more. He yearns to be inside you, but he wants to enjoy this a bit longer.
Essence sticky and warm eludes you with every thrust getting deeper with intent and purpose. His fingers skillfully curling to graze over that sweet spot you love so much. Your legs part wider, now hooked over his knees. The sketch book becomes a tale of the past. The pencil long gone – both on the floor after slipping off your hands somewhere between moans and the first climax.
“Come for me, cutie.” Rafa’s voice silken with love and made heavy with lust graces your ears, slowly pushing you off the edge.
His fingers thrust faster. The plops of your wet core echoes in his mansion. Your moans loud, raw and free. Hands once holding art tools now thrown over your head gripping at his neck.
One. Two. Three. On the third slow thrust, deep and curled just right, his thumb presses against your clit, stilling your body for a bit. Your back archs like a bowstring ready to snap. Legs and thighs spasm and frail about while toes curl.
Rafayel feels your walls clamp down on his fingers and pulse. He pulls out his fingers half way letting a gush of your essence escape you in indecent squirts. He pushes back in. Not halfway, but as deep as he can go. Curling his fingers and thrusting you through your orgasm.
Your hands grip his but he doesn’t stop when your moans clearly show how much you enjoy this.
“What a messy student. Come for me again.”
At his words, your walls clench around him hard, sucking him in deeper. Your eyes roll back. It’s maddening but not enough. You want something else. That precious Lemurian gem poking at your back and leaking at the tip.
“Rafa I…” Before your words make a sentence of coherence, Rafayel pulls his fingers out of you and lifts you with one hand. With his second hand, he sweeps the piles of paper, textbooks, notepads, pencils and everything else off the table in haste, leaving the furniture bare.
He lays you on the table gently like a fragile flower keeping your legs parted with a knee. Pushing the glasses now crocked on his face, he lifts it up his hair like a headband. A smirk plays on his face. His eyes with a glint you know too well. The blue and pink within his irises glimmer dark shades of red and a deep blue likened to purple. His bondmark glows bright red through the turtleneck he wears.
Keeping you trapped under him, his hands on either side of your head so your eyes are fixed on his, Rafayel leans in and smiles “Strike four, cutie. You deserve to get punished.”
His lips crashes into yours. Tongue and teeth communing in heat and warmth. While his tongue slides and swirls sweetly over yours, one of his hands finds your mound, circling your clit. He keeps your moans silent, kissing you deeper with greed only gods can boast of.
Pulling away from the kiss with a bite to your lower lip, he smirks “Do you know what’s amazing about getting punished in Professor Rafayel’s island?”
Rafayel leans close. His cheek pressed against yours as he whispers right into your right ear with a puff of hot breath “No one can hear you scream.”
You feel your walls pulse his name.
He pulls away only slightly, grabbing your chin with a hint of kindness and a drizzle of fright.
“Now, tell me cutie. Are you ready for the second lesson?”
Thank you so much for reading darlings. If you enjoyed it, feel free to check my masterlist for other works of mine.
This fiction was inspired by one of my darlings' prompt on X.
Most of the dialogue was also inspired by Rafayel's secret times, 'Drawing Time'
Switching from one job to another as a maid wasn't easy when you had no home to go back to and your many bad experiences with previous employers. Somehow, you'd ended up as the maid for Itoshi Sae, a famous footballer. He was back in Japan to train for an upcoming match and needed someone to take care of things at his estate. You kept things in order as best as you could, in fear of his intimidating presence. As a few mishaps occur here and there, you're convinced Sae despises you even more - but he doesn't fire you, for some reason.
• shy reader, angst, anxiety/worrying, intimidation, hurt/comfort, Itoshi Sae is bad at feelings. inspired by this story!
Your presumption that Sae would lead you downstairs was disproved when the door of his bedroom grew closer. The walk to his wing rid of the pins and needles in your feet, blood rushing back to your toes.
Sae opened his bedroom door and your eyes drifted away, as if it were Pandora's box. There was a reflection of dim light in the hall; he must've left it on when he'd gone into your room. You kept your gaze to the shining spotless floor of the wing he resided in the most - even if the entire house belonged to him.
"Come."
Your body remained still, wondering if it was all a test. Instead, you glanced back to his face, with the peripheral of his room blurred around the focus of him in your vision.
At your hesitation, he spoke again. "Forget the rules. I know you haven't broken a single one."
You attempted to swallow the embarrassment that he'd clarified about the rules. When your heart was chained by rules, including strict ones you had for yourself, maybe you'd always taken things too seriously.
You followed him in and he closed the door behind you.
His room easily had the most personality out of the entire house. In comparison, the rest of the house seemed half-decorated. It was cozy and lived-in. There was probably more history evident here about Sae, than any information it said about him online.
The subtle scent of coral peonies danced around the air, seemingly from a few candles lit in a blocked fireplace. The majority of the dim light was from the lamp on his bedside table.
His king-sized bed's duvet and throw blanket, both a maroon shade, were crinkled from where he'd last sat. The bed stuck out from a black wall on the right. As you neared, a light brown rug was fluffy and warm under your bare feet.
Large white curtains touched the floor, hanging from the ceiling and faintly concealing the moonlight through French doors, with a window seat on the left.
Opposite his bed was a unit, with two doors on either side to what you assumed was an en suite bathroom and closet.
"You can sit."
There was nowhere else to sit but the bed or the floor, so you sat at the end of the mattress near the windows and furthest from the door. It was firm and slightly high from the floor.
As you took in his room, you noticed the surprising sight of photo frames on his unit - something the rest of his house lacked.
Sae turned to where your eyes fixated. He grabbed most of the frames, and for a second you were scared he was taking them away and that you'd been too nosy, until he placed them beside you on his bed.
Your eyes skimmed over each frame, scattered on the bed like pictures in a photographer's darkroom.
They were all of Sae and Rin when they were young children, some with the rest of their family. The other frames on the unit looked to be Sae with friends, from what you could see.
He stepped behind you and retrieved another from his bedside table, handing it to you.
The frame was polished and clean without a speck of dust, despite how old the photo was. It was of an all-boy's school team. A young Rin stood at the middle, marveled by a soccer trophy he held above his head. Sae was beside him with an arm on Rin's shoulder. Every boy in the picture looked at the camera with a smile, except for Sae's younger self who observed his brother. But, Sae didn't look unhappy.
"Is this what you wanted to show me?" you asked, keeping your eyes to the frame.
"Yes. These are…" He gently inhaled. "Memories. That I hold onto."
You reared your head to him as he stood over you. Were these photos why he didn't allow you in his room?
He must have not wanted you to pry and therefore, made it a boundary from the beginning for you to not come in here. Yet, you'd meddled in his life these past few days with Rin, even if you'd followed his rule of not going in his room.
The rules seemed futile now, even if Sae had abolished them.
"I didn't want anyone to see that side of me," he spoke.
The air was quiet at his admission of vulnerability, even with roaring wind outside the window or the faint crackle of candles.
"Which side?" you whispered.
"The side that misunderstood my brother," he imparted, his usual impassive tone mixing with doleful regret. "And continued to misunderstand you."
Your throat dried again and only now, as the panic of your nightmare wore off, did you notice the soreness at the back of your tonsils. A thought appeared in the back of your mind that your throat was sore from going out in the pouring rain earlier without a coat on when you'd met up with Aiku, but you focused on Sae's accounted words instead.
You expected this to be a conversation about Rin, not you. It was clear Sae had been far harsher to Rin than you, and perhaps there were similarities in his coldness towards the both of you, but you deserved it far more than Rin.
"I'm sorry," he spoke again, surprising you for what felt like the millionth time tonight. "For all that I said earlier and how I reduced you to your job."
Before you could overthink, breathless words left you. "Sae…"
Besides his soft tone, you couldn't depict what was bouncing around his head. Perhaps it was best if you couldn't entirely recall what was said earlier because of your tired state, since it seemed enough to fuel another nightmare again.
"There's a lot to apologize for, even before everything I said." His eyes wavered with his words, yet they were effortless from his lips. Meanwhile, you were struggling to reply at his honesty.
You finally found words of your own, even if they were unrelated to his and hoarse in your shaky voice. "I know it's strange that I involved myself in yours' and Rin's business. I really was concerned for him when I met him for the first time, but…I shouldn't have done it. I'm so sorry, Sae."
You felt silly for not having an adequate response, as you repeated similar words you said earlier before he'd stormed out, even if you were more coherent now. Sometimes, it felt like all you could do was apologize, even if there was no place for it.
"You showed me compassion. And Rin, who you'd met in passing," he stated, dismissing your apology. "I didn't comprehend that."
Your heart ached. In front of you was a remorseful man, rather than your boss whose emotions felt inconceivable.
"But…" you started, earning an eyebrow raise from him, but you still continued, "I've done wrong too. And…I already forgave you."
A beat of silence passed at your last words, making you glance away.
"You are foolish, when you say things like that," he spoke, in a mutter. His eyes trailed over you, like a puzzle he couldn't figure out, when you'd only felt that way about him. You played with your hands, wary under his stare. "Yet, you're the first to truly open my mind."
"What do you mean?"
Even in Spain, where not even the sea separated you from him, you'd never seen Sae like this - expressive and pensive with his thoughts while they came into his mind.
Perhaps, you needed his closeness like this to understand an ounce of what he was thinking. The walls you'd both built between you only made things worse.
There were little crevices of his thoughts he'd left open for you in Madrid, and you were afraid you'd made him close back up, ever since you'd fought his battles for him.
His long eyelashes flickered. "When I left earlier, I went to our family's house to see Rin."
With his wistful tone, you didn't feel the need to brace yourself for what he was about to say.
"It was only the beginning of making things right with him."
His words both warmed and alarmed your heart. You let out a small exhale of relief. At least all of this had somewhat come to something positive.
"I'm glad," you mumbled, blinking slow as you felt exhaustion wash over you.
He noted your eyes slightly drooping. "You are tired. Are you okay to go back to sleep?"
You shook your head lightly. You were only tired because it was the middle of the night and you'd abruptly woke up from your nightmare, but you didn't want to go back to sleep yet - when it felt like your conversation had barely begun. "I'm fine."
"I've already made you cry. I don't wish to disturb your sleep either," he acknowledged.
You weren't sure whether to be embarrassed or grateful at how he didn't blame you for crying. You cried when things got too much, but that wasn't often and it came from bottling things up, which also explained your nightmare.
"I'm just…weak, is all," you admitted in a mutter.
You were reminded of your conversation in Valencia, when you'd first shared the only bed. Sae had called love weak, and you'd asked him if he'd felt that weakness.
When he'd asked you, you'd said you were already weak as it was.
His crimson brows contorted, before his legs bent slightly so he was level to your eyes. With the direct eye contact and his closeness, the bed suddenly felt smaller and lower, as his gaze sized you up.
"You are not," he stated, just as he'd done in Valencia when you were about to drift off.
You glanced around his room for a moment to avoid his eyes right in front of you, but even in your peripheral, those teal irises shined bright.
It was clear you didn't believe him, so he added, "I am the weak one, if I hadn't patched things up with my brother until you."
His words were a gentle murmur and blanketed silence throughout the room for a moment. You could make out the harsh wind of the late night outside, while you were stunned at his response.
Hethought he was weak?
He had to be messing around with you now, even if Sae didn't typically joke around. And, you weren't sure you had that much of an effect on him to want to heal his estranged relationship with Rin.
"But I could tell that…you wanted to fix it with him," you hesitated.
His paused, at the observation. "But I didn't, all these years. Because I'm weak."
Perhaps he was correct then, that love really did make you weak.
It seemed you couldn't argue with him anymore, nor did you feel like it.
"Let's both be weak, then," you mumbled.
His lips slightly turned up at your response.
You looked down at your lap, with one of your own light smiles morphing. You felt a slight weight off your shoulder - even though you still felt guilty for what you'd done.
It was hard to comprehend that the day and night had come to this. He was still your boss and you still worked for him. Was that why it wasn't easy for the two of you to initially talk things out?
The sudden remembrance made you swallow, even if it hurt with your sore throat. You had an interview tomorrow, which you didn't get to apprehend in the day, given the events that occurred. You weren't sure how early you'd begin the job even if you'd passed the interview.
The realization filled you with dread. It didn't matter if Sae had began to open up to you, because you'd soon be a stranger to him again. With how your eyes remained down, he luckily didn't seem to notice.
"Here," he said, taking the photo frames and standing up straight. The distance between you both returned as he went back to the unit to put the frames back.
You were glad his back was to you for a moment, so he didn't see your solemness.
He turned back to the bed and took the frame of Sae and Rin with the soccer trophy to place it back on his nightstand.
Until, it all happened before you could comprehend it.
Sae must've tripped over the corner of the bed as he leaned over, or perhaps you got up too fast, assuming he'd already reached the nightstand. Whatever it was, it resulted in him falling above you and your back landing on the bed.
He hovered over you, catching himself on his hands either side of you, before he could land on top of you - unlike how he'd fallen on you in the library that time. He was enclosing you.
His upper half didn't touch you, whereas the fabric of his trousers lightly grazed against your legs, that were flat on the bed underneath him.
Several alarms fired in your head, as your heart sped and stagnated bewilderment in your stomach. The frame had landed beside you on the bed, as he loomed over you.
When his arms surrounded your head, with his scent and heat going straight to your head, you couldn't picture yourself escaping. You looked up, with wide eyes as you both stilled, registering the position you were in.
You weren't sure why it was a big deal to you. You'd been closer before in Valencia, when you'd slept in the same bed, or that day in the library when you tripped on the ladder.
It was now that you noticed the details of the man. The tinge of something different in his scent, something akin to citrus. How his hair was slightly damp, seemingly from showering.
Or, how he'd been wearing the necklace with the small red pendant you bought him under his pyjamas, except - that wasn't an observation of detail.
His necklace hung over you, between the two of you like a string of fate. If he leaned up any more, then the pendant would rest coldly on your lips.
"Sorry," you breathed, flustered and shocked at how fast it had happened. "Are you alright?"
He searched between your eyes, left to right, as if your words insinuated something else. "You are still saying sorry."
"I…"
"Foolish girl," he repeated, his small smile from a moment ago returning.
Instead of moving back, his head slowly leaned closer down to yours. Yet, his body still hadn't touched yours.
He was only glancing to your mouth, and you couldn't have mistaken it. His heat warmed your face, not simply from your own embarrassment. Any closer and his eyelashes would brush against your cheek with every slow blink of his.
When he was this near, his eyes were a calm ocean, instead of the never-ending cold waves they'd always been.
He gently inhaled through his nose, taking in your scent.
He was going to kiss you, there was no doubt about it.
You allowed your lips to part, as his pair neared.
Maybe he was correct, that you really were foolish. You'd never been this selfish about anything before. Everything in your life was overanalyzed and dissected by your own mind. Everything that seemed appealing to you was only in books you'd read, a part of your own fantasy to distract from your tough reality.
Until, you felt it in your throat.
You turned your head away from his face, breaking the entrancement.
You reached a hand up from underneath him and covered your mouth for a small cough to escape.
He slowly retracted, filling you with guilt.
"Are you okay?" His concerned baritone surprised you.
You dreaded returning back to his gaze. The cold waves had returned, replacing the flicker of fondness from a moment ago when your lips were about to touch.
You weren't sure whether to be mad or glad at your sore throat, if a kiss between you and Sae was appropriate. Then again, was anything that had happened between the two of you appropriate?
Sure, you'd never kissed him before, or anyone for that matter. But you'd stepped over the line into his boundaries and personal business, which could have costed you your job. Or, even how he'd taken you to Spain - which you enjoyed, but you couldn't say any of your other employers took you on a personal holiday with no work.
Kissing your boss was not a thought you'd ever conjured up, yet it felt requisite in the moment.
You hoped it didn't seem like you'd coughed on purpose, because you weren't about to cough in his mouth either. That was worse than a kiss.
Sae withdrew and knelt on the bed, beside your ankles, while you glanced up at him from his pillow. His necklace hid back in his shirt, as if it never dangled between you, as if his mouth wasn't about to press against yours. There was something in his eyes as he stared down at your reclining body, almost concupiscent, but you figured you were going crazy.
"My throat is just sore." It was difficult to determine if your hoarse voice was from your throat, or the shock of the closeness between both of you, just seconds ago.
He gave a nod, running a hand through his hair as if he were snapping himself back to reality. "You must be cold. You should go back to sleep."
You'd gone into his room without wearing anything over your pyjamas, but you weren't that cold. Still, you could recognize it as your sign to leave.
You weren't sure what would have happened if you did kiss, if he'd tell you to leave just as he was doing now, if he'd say it was a mistake.
This was for the best.
You figured you would get worse in the morning, but you didn't expect it to be this bad. Your neck and back were sore, with the rest of your limbs aching, drenched in sweat and clammy under the covers. With tiredness and dryness around your eyes, you dreaded opening your eyes. It made you cringe to swallow with your dry, sore throat.
You really should have thought twice about leaving the house without a coat into the storming rain yesterday, when you'd met Aiku.
Still, you needed to get up at your usual time. You were unsure to ask Sae for a sick day. Of course, it was in your right as an employee to do so and you luckily had paid sick days. But you weren't sure if it was only morning symptoms and you'd get better as the day went on.
You were quickly disproved, as you moved around like a rag doll, struggling to keep yourself up while you made breakfast. Your bones felt hollow with how cold you were, despite the sweater you wore.
Sae didn't come downstairs and you guessed he'd left before you woke up again. You couldn't help but wonder if he was avoiding you, after the events of yesterday.
If you did kiss, would he have avoided you? Regardless, you didn't want to get him sick and you hoped it didn't look like a pathetic excuse.
Sae was nothing like the men in your nightmare and from your past. You knew nothing about the feeling of attraction either, but if you felt it while he was the one leaning in, surely he'd felt it as well.
What also alarmed you was your interview you were meant to have for another job. It was in the early afternoon and you needed a bit of time to get to the location, but you weren't sure if you'd be well enough to make it.
By midday, you were worse. You sat in the living room with a blanket over you. You'd had a small breakfast of miso soup which was the only thing that was easy to digest with your lack of appetite. You couldn't bring yourself to get up again, when a headache pounded even behind your eyes.
You closed your eyes to calm it, trying to re-energize yourself to stand and take painkillers.
The opening of the door broke your attempt of peace, the sound making your head throb harder. You knew you should push the blanket aside and stand, so it didn't look like you were slacking off of work, but your eyes only drooped with tiredness.
The living room door opened eventually. Sae was in a coat, with a bag in his hand.
"You look awful," he spoke, registering your state.
The comment made you deflate into the couch. It was true, because you felt awful. Your head felt heavy with pain, as did your eyes, and your nose was blocked.
He lifted the white carrier bag in his hand. "I got you throat medicine. If I'd known you were like this, I would have got something else too."
Your eyebrows rose slightly. "Oh, thank you, Sae."
He must have remembered about your sore throat from yesterday, when your cough interrupted your almost-kiss. The unspoken topic danced between you, and you wondered if he was thinking about it too.
"Why didn't you just take the day off?" he asked, unzipping his coat and leaving it on the arm of the couch.
"I couldn't ask you," you responded. He was out before you'd woken up, after all.
A breath escaped him, almost like a scoff. "Don't ask. Or text, if it's so important."
You gave a nod. It wouldn't be of much use to text next time you were ill, because you probably wouldn't be here anymore.
"What do you need?" he asked. "Painkillers?"
You nodded, not having it in you to decline out of humility. "Please, thank you."
He left the living room and returned with a few things. A glass of water and painkillers, as well as a bottle of water and a few electrolyte packets. He set the throat medicine he'd bought on the table. "Take this too."
"Thank you, Sae," you spoke, in your tired voice. You were grateful he was doing so much for you but you wished it was easier to express it in your sickened state.
"What made you ill? Waking up last night?" he asked.
You set the glass of water on the table after you took the painkillers, tensing at the mention of last night. Images of his lips close to yours or his necklace hovering between you flashed in your mind.
You shook your head slowly. "From going out in the rain yesterday."
Silence fell over you two at your answer, as Sae seemed to put pieces together. You weren't sure whether to mention you were with Aiku. You'd already hid enough from Sae.
"Because of me?" he contended with simple directness.
"I…I met with Aiku," you admitted quietly.
He didn't seem annoyed, despite the twitch of his eyes at the mention - it looked more like surprise. He gave a nod with an exhale through his nose, shocking you that he seemed to have accepted the fact. "Without a coat on?"
You meekly nodded, earning a light sigh from him.
"Was the coat I bought you simply for show?" he questioned, rhetorically.
You folded your arms around yourself under the blanket. "Sorry."
It was a surprise he didn't call you foolish again, but that would remind you too much of last night. He was possibly the only man to call someone foolish in a fond manner, which filled your weakened brain with more thoughts than it could handle.
"You should eat. And then, you should go to bed," he declared, with a nod.
It was difficult to imagine someone looking after you, let alone Sae, but there was no use in arguing with him.
You wondered where else he went in the morning before he'd bought you the throat medicine, and where he'd been going lately in general. What else was there to rearrange before his final move to Spain?
A bowl of miso and as much rice as you could muster later, the painkillers had also kicked in. You finally had it in you to head to bed without feeling too dizzy or weak, as per Sae's orders.
He'd asked if you were okay to walk up the stairs on your own. The question made you feel more fragile than you were, but you also wondered what would've happened if you'd said no.
Would he have had you hold onto him while he guided you up the stairs?
You immediately felt exhausted after you'd changed back into your pyjamas and got into your bed, until your phone pinged.
REMINDER - INTERVIEW
Today at 2pm
It was a notification you'd set a few days ago. Now, the reminder had become one for you to cancel the interview, in your state.
You sat up and typed out an apology email, expressing that you could no longer attend the interview. You could barely think of a coherent sentence in your state, let alone travel to the interview location and talk about yourself.
You had other interviews, but they were in a few weeks time. Sae would probably be gone by then and you'd most likely need to find a hotel or hostel.
You rested your head back on the pillow, dejected that you'd missed out on an opportunity because of your sickness. The reason you'd even gotten the interview was because of your extensive resume, so you were certain you were the type of person they were looking for at another housekeeping job.
You couldn't afford to miss an interview while the visions of your future became blurrier.
Days passed and you'd fully recovered. Sae had told you to take another day off from work to see if you still had symptoms, but you didn't. Your sore throat was completely gone, you could breathe through your nose again and your head no longer pounded.
Sae had looked after you throughout your days of sickness, and you weren't quite sure why. While he did this, there was slight less hesitation between you as your almost-kiss became a situation of the past, even if it was only a few days ago.
He'd advised you to sleep in and nap, and brought you fresh ginger lemon tea to your room that he'd made from scratch. He'd cooked you light meals that weren't off-putting in your sick state and had brought you medicine to wherever you were.
Your cancelled interview had dampened your mood further than your sickness. You felt like a failure for missing it.
Sae seemed to have noticed too, with how he'd asked you how you were feeling more often. Each time, you'd answered him with, "I'm fine."
Physical health was something he could easily see, rather than what was going on in your head. However, he was an observant man and could tell when something was bothering you.
In the night, you were settling in bed with your lamp on, but you had nothing to do before you fell asleep. You hadn't looked at your phone in days, not that you usually did, it was especially because you'd cancelled your interview.
A light knock at the door took you out of your disheartened thoughts for a moment.
"Come in."
Sae stepped in, steam vaporing out of a mug in his hand and a book in the other.
"Thank you, Sae," you mumbled. You didn't have it in you to decline even though you were all better; he'd been kind to make it and bring it to you many times.
He handed it to you. "How do you feel?"
"I felt fine since yesterday," you said, before gently blowing into the mug and taking a sip of the hot liquid with fresh ginger. You placed it beside you on the bedside table.
His eyes flickered over you, assessing your deflated posture as you were sat up on the bed.
"Can I sit?"
You were already moving your legs aside under the duvet, giving him room to sit at the edge of your bed. "Of course."
He sat down and his scent already filtered through your room. From here, the contours of his face were more defined, while the high points looked warmer from the lamp light.
"For you." He placed the book between you.
North & South by Elizabeth Gaskell. The cover was a landscape painting of an estate with hills in the background. A man and woman stood together in the bottom left corner, with a few animals in front of them. In the distance of the hills was a factory with smoke blowing out of it.
Your fingers gently grazed over it. Just as you had nothing to do before bed, he'd brought you a book.
"Since you finished Jane Eyre," he spoke.
"What is it about?"
You could have easily read the blurb, but you only wanted to hear it from him.
"A woman from a rural part of England moves to the industrial North and meets a man completely opposite to her. He's a factory owner," he explained.
You were inclined to classic literature with somewhat-opposites attracting each other, and Sae must have realized that. Where both of their souls were actually tortured and they came to find out that they share that similarity.
"Thank you, Sae," you spoke, with a small nod.
You broke away from his gaze and the beat of silence between you wasn't entirely comfortable as it usually was. You hated that you were the one that had made it that way, with how dull you'd been acting these past few days, aside from your illness.
"What ails you?"
His voice was more tentative, as much as he could be, but the words still took you off guard.
"What do you mean?" you responded, opting to deflect.
Dark concern of his eyes stared you down, an endless ocean that threatened to drown you in. His gaze was excruciating, too intense to be held for too long.
"Something has been bothering you. If you are no longer ill, what happened?" he asked.
You wondered if he was asking because he was tired of your sad mood. You'd already been ill, you didn't want to dampen the atmosphere of the house even further.
You opened your mouth to speak, but words didn't immediately come out. You calmed your nerves and met his eyes again. "I…had to cancel something because of my sickness."
His brows knit. "You had plans?"
Gears were turning in his head. Sae was unfortunately too observant of you. Your lie wouldn't make it far with him, even if it wasn't technically a lie - just a really brief answer.
You swallowed and gave a nod.
"What was it?"
His question wasn't challenging, rather, he wanted to see what plans would have upset you so much to cancel.
You'd dug yourself into this hole, there was no use in lying anymore. "An interview."
It must've been one of the few times Itoshi Sae had been truly surprised, with how his bright eyes widened.
"What interview?" His baritone sounded completely perplexed, as if someone like you had the same interviews he did as a famous footballer.
"For a job." Compared to him, your tone was more casual now that you'd gotten it off of your chest, even if the idea of leaving here for another job tore you up.
What else were you meant to do, when he was leaving Japan forever?
He glanced to the floor and ran a hand through his hair, the same way he'd done when you hadn't kissed the other night, like he was contemplating existence. A few strands from the action hung over his forehead.
The silence in the air was suffocating and you desperately wanted to know what he was thinking, as he slowly blinked.
A small breath escaped him and he gave a nod, as though he'd understood.
"I'm not moving back to Spain," he spoke.
Your upper-half slightly retracted back.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you anything," he added.
"You're not?" you asked in a murmur. "But I thought…"
You were too shocked to fully relax. All this time, it was all you'd thought about. You'd even played out your final goodbyes to him in your head, if there even would've been any. You'd worried for the future, if you'd end up as you did in the past - back to the men from your nightmares.
"I made you think all sorts of things, didn't I?"
You gave a small nod. You could not run to counter his words.
He shifted, sitting closer to your lap, and moved the book aside.
"I'm going to live in Japan, forever," he said, with a nod. "I didn't tell you anything since…"
"Since after the match against Blue Lock," you finished.
His brows contorted and his fingers loosely curled. "Were you wondering about it?"
Your lack of response was enough confirmation.
"Even in Spain?"
Your eyes flickered away as you gave a nod.
"I had no idea," he muttered, as he'd realized the worry that had eaten you alive all this time. "You couldn't enjoy Spain, because of me."
You shook your head. "I enjoyed it, Sae. I promise."
Your eye contact with his remorseful ones were enough for him to believe you, with a small nod of his head.
You surprised yourself by continuing. "I thought of many things. About…how you have a big estate here and so many cars, all in Japan. How you have a library full of books only in Japanese and you'd read most of them in Spain to stay fluent."
And now, his photos with Rin in his bedroom.
His eyelashes fluttered, taken aback.
You didn't say it to embarrass him or call him out. You saw him, perhaps more than he saw himself.
"I suppose I cannot hide from you," he said, more intimate than you expected. "Those are things I never expected anyone to notice. That were just for me."
It made sense. Sae had small pleasures, even if an entire estate wasn't exactly small - they were all for himself. If he didn't have it in him to make up with Rin, he'd try to still feel connected to his brother in some way, even if it was from afar.
"What…made you stay?" you asked quietly. "Rin?"
The Adam's apple in his throat bobbed. "Partly. I made the choice before I spoke to him yesterday. I want to see him progress, even if he hates me."
You wondered what else it was, if Rin wasn't the entire reason. It couldn't have been Japanese football, when he hated it so much. Was it the rest of his family he wanted to be close to?
What about his contract with ReAl Madrid? He was in the process of adding clauses before he'd renewed it, last time he'd mentioned it.
"I wanted to tell you. You were not an afterthought," he voiced.
"Why…didn't you?" Your words were small, but you'd wondered it for a while.
Why hadn't he just told you what would happen to you?
Then again, you also could have asked him, but you'd assumed you were unimportant in his busyness. That you leaving was a conclusion you'd have to come to with common sense - and so, you did.
He inhaled, but held his breath.
Sae, who usually looked like a fortress, seemed nervous.
"I don't want you to work for me anymore," he spoke, making your stomach drop. He continued to your dismay. "If I told you that, I figured you'd leave forever."
"You…don't want me to work here anymore, but you want me to stay?" you questioned quietly, trying to grasp onto what you could deduce from his words.
If he wanted to stay in contact with you, surely you'd still need to find work elsewhere.
Or, your suspicions that you'd repeatedly tried to shut up, were correct. Yet, you didn't think you were this important to him.
"Because I am selfish. I want you to stay with me. Beside me, not below me," he finally admitted.
You couldn't be the reason he wanted to stay in Japan. There was no point. Yet, he'd said Rin was only partly the reason and you couldn't think of anything else.
"The times I treated you horribly, I wanted you to yell. But your silence made me feel weak," he continued, rolling the ring around his finger.
"What weakness?" you whispered. You searched between his eyes, trying to see if this was all a joke.
"The one I lied about."
Love makes you weak.
Despite how you were fully recovered and surprisingly no remnants of a sore throat was left, your mouth dried at his words.
"If I'd known what you do to me," he murmured. "Everything you make me feel, I wouldn't have hired you in the first place."
His blatant words stunned you into silence, leaving you with nothing to question, even though your nagging conscience had millions.
"I….I have nothing to give you, Sae," you managed to say.
You could fill a line around the entire outskirts of Tokyo of people that wanted Itoshi Sae to confessing his feelings to them. You weren't sure you'd be the one to fulfill him.
His eyes narrowed, perplexed. "You have given me more than I deserve."
Your heart throbbed, remembering your nightmare from the other day. You weren't exactly experienced in this field. The behaviors of men had put you off of exploring - even if it luckily never went beyond inappropriate comments.
"It's just…the past. With my old employers. It holds me back from these things," you admitted quietly.
His eyes hardened at the mention, understanding what you were referencing. Even if you'd never explicitly described your past, you were glad he knew. Maybe one day, you'd tell him the details of what exactly they'd said.
"You don't need to worry about anything or anyone, anymore. It's up to you what you do from now. You do not need a reason to stay or go."
Did he still think you wanted to leave, after he expressed he wanted you to stay?
Staying was all you'd ever wanted, to have somewhere, someone to call home.
"I lied too," you whispered, getting the courage. You surprised him again, his head tilting in disbelief. Your heart pounded in your chest. It was too late to go back. "I have a reason. It's all you."
He broke the distance, in your space. His hand reached out to your shoulder. He wanted you close, closer than yesterday when you'd accidentally interrupted.
"Then, you are fired. Do you hear me?" he spoke, quietly.
You gave a gentle nod.
The walls you'd both taken so long to build crumbled right beneath you. You didn't think about the future or what would happen to you after this, because you trusted him.
His lips were on yours, before you knew it. You lightly gasped, your mouth slightly parting for him, as your eyes closed. His warmth was everywhere, his breath, his lips and his hand that reached for your jaw to direct you into him - as well as his scent of cologne and the forest. His other hand rested against the top of your shoulder, while yours rendered useless from shock.
Sae kissed the same way he played soccer - confident, natural and ruthless. The latter became evident when his smooth lips devoured your soft ones, after he'd allowed the shock to leave you. His hand trailed under your chin, gently squeezing and holding your face in place. The warmth of his hand juxtaposed the chill of his rings against y our skin.
Lips brushed over each other, as you tried to keep up with him. He couldn't get enough of you, grasping between your bottom and upper lip. He tasted sweet, like the honey he'd put in your tea. Your stomach did somersaults as he leaned even closer, keeping you to the point of no return.
The switch made you conscious of your own arms, even if your eyes were still shut, one reaching for his shoulder and the other trailing to the back of his head. For the first time, you touched Sae's soft magenta locks, running your fingers through the back. He slightly hummed against your mouth at the action.
His thumb reached up and rubbed at the corner of your lip, while his mouth did the work on the rest of them. It was as though he had to have a feel, like a man starved.
He pulled back, separating the two of you to catch your breath, eyes opening. Blood rushed back to your heart and oxygen back to your head, as you gently inhaled.
His thumb remained and trailed to the center of your bottom lip. He jutted it out and felt your heartbeat, as though he was admiring his work of your swollen, sensitive lips.
You were brought out of the darkness, glancing at him with wide eyes as he did so. There was hunger in his eyes as they trailed over you with satisfaction, yet it was the most relaxed he'd ever been.
I wanted to draw Sae with his bangs down for a long time, so when he appeared in that panel, I understood it as a sign 😌
(Reader is the one talking off screen)
TY FOR THE TAG @medicli and @amorgasmic !!!! Ily u bbs mwah
fav color: light pink or light blue!
last song: dying on the inside - nessa barret
currently reading: unfortunately too busy for reading atm 😔
currently watching: re re re re watching evangelion
currently craving: my mom makes the BEST onigiri with tuna and kimchi in the middle and no matter how much I try to imitate it it’s not as good as hers <\3
coffee or tea: I drink mostly green tea! but tbh water if I had to choose
no pressure tags!: @jlle-marie @aeyumicore @applecaviar @deepspacenova @wetforsylus @cupidstrace @muliwamm @lapsizedgf @heartyluv and anyone else!! :3
Switching from one job to another as a maid wasn't easy when you had no home to go back to and your many bad experiences with previous employers. Somehow, you'd ended up as the maid for Itoshi Sae, a famous footballer. He was back in Japan to train for an upcoming match and needed someone to take care of things at his estate. You kept things in order as best as you could, in fear of his intimidating presence. As a few mishaps occur here and there, you're convinced Sae despises you even more - but he doesn't fire you, for some reason.
• shy reader, angst, anxiety/worrying, intimidation, hurt/comfort, Itoshi Sae is bad at feelings. inspired by this story!
WARNING - PORTRAYAL OF SEXUAL HARASSMENT IN THIS CHAPTER.
Don't be afraid to leave a comment letting me know what you thought, even if you've never commented before! This is one of the most heavy chapters in the story so I'd love to know your opinion.
Sae had come home in the evening and told you he'd be out for the next few days - and that he'd be back in the evenings. You messaged Rin that night and told him he could come over, and that the late mornings would be best.
The next morning, after Sae had breakfast and left, you prepared a few things for Rin. You'd messaged him and asked if there was anything in particular he'd like to eat, but he said it wasn't necessary, so you made a few warm treats like fresh dango.
Your phone pinged as you finished arranging the coffee table.
Rin: I'm almost here.
You stepped into the cold wind of the morning, wrapping the grey cardigan that Sae had got you in Spain around you. As usual, the skies were grey and it would be the only daylight until it got darker after 3pm.
You took the pathway across the estate, legs tingling from both cold and nerves. You couldn't help but worry, now that Rin was on his way.
When you'd seen Rin in the locker room after the match, he looked dejected, with his head hung low. Not to mention, how heartbroken he seemed on the pitch, when Sae briefly spoke to him after the game had finished.
It was hard for you to walk away that day, because you saw yourself in Rin.
You never had a sibling or anything close to one, but you remembered being his age not long ago. You were surrounded by other children in the orphanage and you still felt alone, much like how you'd seen him in the canteen with his Blue Lock teammates.
Sae also puzzled you too, in a different way.
Despite that, there was the risk of Sae finding out.
When you'd first began working here, inviting someone over to Sae's house wasn't in the question, not after the rules he'd given you. Let alone inviting his younger brother that Sae didn't speak to anymore.
You reached the small gate and punched in the code to open the gate.
It wasn't like you were going to stir the pot. None of wanting to comfort Rin had anything to do with what Sae had told you in Valencia, where he deemed Rin to be pathetic or too emotional. After all, you'd arranged to meet with Rin before you went to Spain.
You already stuck your nose into Sae's business every time you hung onto his vague words, or how you'd researched him, but you couldn't fathom doing anything malicious with that.
The dynamic between you and Sae felt calmer due to the trip to Spain, but the closeness from the week ago couldn't be replicated when you were back to working. And when you knew you wouldn't be here for much longer.
Regardless, any trust Sae felt towards you would be severed if he found out you were speaking with Rin. There was also the chance of pulling the brothers apart even further, which could be all your fault.
Still, maybe it wasn't so bad to meet with Rin now, when your job was already halfway out the door anyway, as opposed to when you'd first started working here.
Gone were the conversations where you'd gotten something deeper than the hard exterior Sae showed the world, or when you'd woken up in his warmth wrapped around you.
A dark-haired figure emerged from the road, snapping you out of your thoughts.
Itoshi Rin was bundled up in a bright blue scarf, wrapped around his neck. His black trench coat and black trousers matched, with a white sweater under his scarf. His dark hair had grown in length, the tips falling into his eyes as they blew in the wind.
He neared to the other side of the open gate. Only now did you notice he was taller than his brother. You'd stood beside Sae enough now to realize this.
"Hi, Rin. I'm glad you could make it," you spoke, with a polite smile. "Did you take a taxi here?"
He gave a slow nod in greeting and at your question. "I walked the rest."
"They don't always come down here," you responded, shaking your head. "You can come in. It's very cold."
Rin's breath released in a small cloud as he slightly shivered. The weather worsened since you'd returned to Japan, and it wasn't just you adjusting back to the weather here after the fairly chill cold in Spain.
As you both walked across the estate and to the house, you couldn't help but compare his silence to his brother's. You told yourself to not constantly compare them and you knew it was strange to compare something like aimless. But after the time you'd spent with Sae, your observations of the two were already different.
Rin, at least now, was reserved and almost hesitant. After all, he'd never come to Sae's house before. He may have found it shocking not because of the size of the estate, but because it was where his brother resided.
Sae's silence felt purposeful. Daunting, to you at least, as if he were observing and examining. You couldn't help it, your boss was an intimidating man, even if you'd viewed most men as intimidating.
Rin's head turned to the fields and small gradients of wet grass, as well as the many garages in the near distance.
And much like his brother, you couldn't decipher what Rin was thinking of it all.
When you reached the house, you both stepped out of your shoes and you took his coat to hang up, the warm of the heating engulfing you in. Rin's eyes stilled on Sae's trophies in the foyer.
"Just this way," you spoke gently, making him glance away from the cabinet.
Slow footsteps followed behind you, down the hall. The scent of fresh treats filled the air of the living room before he saw them.
Fresh dango, pastries and fruit were arranged on a few plates. It wasn't much, so at least you'd end up finishing them and rid of the evidence before Sae saw.
As you glanced at the table, you suddenly remembered-
"I left the tea boiling. I'll be right back," you spoke hastily. "Please, sit where you would like."
You'd left the tea on low to boil before he came, but you didn't remember to turn it off before you went to meet him at the gate. You carefully carried the teapot over, a towel over the handle to not burn yourself.
Rin was sat on the couch when you went back into the living room, glancing at the painting on the wall.
Aside from the trophy cabinet in the foyer, there was nothing personal to Sae displayed in the house. No photos whatsoever, even in his office. Instead, there were a few paintings and photos of landscapes.
The painting on the wall was of two large sea waves angrily clashing and curling.
Rin looked away as you entered.
"Sorry about that," you spoke, sheepishly. You carefully positioned his mug and filled it with tea, immediately steaming the air. "It's really hot, I just took it off of the stove."
You filled your own mug, before pulling a chair to the table, opposite the couch. He'd taken off his blue scarf and placed it beside him.
"Please, help yourself," you added, gesturing to the table of treats.
He passively stared at the table. You felt it was a tad more easier to talk to him than Sae, since Rin was younger than you, but he seemed far more quieter.
You were relieved that he lifted his mug, gently blowing before taking a small sip. You noticed the silver ring on his finger, similar to the one Sae had as a family heirloom he'd bought himself.
"Thank you for coming here," you said. "You have time off of training?"
He nodded. "I went home for the week."
You still didn't know too much about the Blue Lock programme, but it was concerning that they had to live at the training facility. What about school? They had to make big sacrifices for the small chance of soccer.
You nodded slowly. in response. "That's good…"
The air wasn't awkward, but hesitant, as you avoided the elephant in the room, or rather, surrounding you, since you were in Sae's house.
"You said that you and Sae had a few issues, before," he started, his voice deep and quiet. "Is it still the case?"
You recalled yours and Sae's encounters, before you'd said that to Rin in the locker room.
Of course, you tried your best not to cross Sae when you first began to work for him, and issues still arose. Things had slightly changed since you'd broke the china cup and cried. Even before that, he'd done things far kinder than anyone you'd known before, like when he'd found you in the rainstorm and drove you home.
It seemed like he wanted someone's company when he'd invited you to the fundraiser, or even something as simple as going for a walk together around the area.
There were other things he'd done for you then too, that felt like he was kind to you, and not just anyone. For example, when he'd let you sleep in his car with the heat on and how he'd made sure you were comfortable, instead of waking you.
As it neared to match day, Sae understandably became distant and you saw less of him. Yet, you could not help but feel his absence full-force.
"No," you replied, with a shake of your head. "Not…between us."
Since then, it seemed Spain had relaxed Sae. As for you, well…
There was the issue with you needing to leave this job, which Sae had yet to acknowledge. You did have interviews to attend, but you weren't sure when the starting date of a new job would be, if you'd need to move out of Sae's estate before then. Still, you didn't want to bombard Sae with your own concerns when he was busy with moving back to the other side of the planet.
"At the time…I'd only been working here for a few months and he confused me greatly," you added, as you recalled your life here. Maybe it would be easier for Rin if you told him a bit about yourself and your experience here.
Rin's dark brows contorted slightly. He must have been considering just how confusing Sae would be to his housekeeper of all people, or maybe Rin would begin to realize that from your perspective, you didn't always feel like simply a housekeeper.
"The work here was mostly smooth, but…Sae is complex, as much as he is complicated," you continued, wrapping a hand around your warm mug as you tried to explain. "There were times I felt like he hated me. Now, I feel he tolerates me, or that he'd reflected on things."
I called you my servant. I was out of line. I apologize.
You took a sip of your tea, hoping it would rid of Sae's voice in your mind.
The Adam's apple bobbed in Rin's throat, as something like recognition flickered in his bright eyes. "I'm not sure that is my brother."
"Why's that?" you asked.
"He doesn't reflect, because I'm not sure he makes mistakes," Rin spoke. His voice wasn't confident, rather, defeated - like it was simply a cruel fact.
"He is still human, after all," you spoke hesitantly, because you didn't know Sae as well as Rin did.
You chewed on a ball of dango, as you realised your words went against the anxious thoughts in your head - but then again, that was all they were.
"I can't get him to the point of tolerance," Rin spoke, "As much as I try to prove him wrong."
"You did prove him wrong," you spoke softly. Rin had scored a goal and played excellently till the end.
"Isagi Yoichi proved him wrong," Rin replied. His voice was harsh and cold, although his downcast eyes wavered.
"Someone was bound to score the winning goal," you reasoned.
You knew nothing about soccer, but it seemed to be a fact of most team-orientated sports. Still, you hoped it didn't seem like you weren't understanding Rin's frustration.
"I can't be the best striker in the world, if I cannot score the winning goal." Rin's words sounded smaller than before.
You set down the dango, in thought. "Is that your dream?"
"It was our dream."
"What changed?"
"The night that Sae returned from Spain, he said he changed his dream. That he wanted to be the best midfielder in the world, and that there are better players in the world than him," Rin recalled.
A true striker is born, not made.
When Sae had told you he'd traveled and seen the best players in the world, and that he still thought Rin was better, you didn't consider that was also the end of Sae's dream.
Rather, Sae believed Rin was more capable of succeeding than him, despite Sae's skills. After all, he'd stayed back in Japan when he'd seen Rin on screen, regarding the Blue Lock programme.
It seemed, in Sae's eyes, the U-20s vs Blue Lock match was Rin's last chance to prove his dream to his older brother.
You felt Sae wanted Rin to succeed, but didn't know how to go about expressing that after they fell out.
"Do you know why he felt that way?" you asked.
Rin shook his head, keeping his eyes to his mug in front of him. "No. It doesn't make sense. because he's better than me in every way. We had a one-on-one that night and he beat me easily."
It seemed to Rin, that there was no point in him being a striker, if Sae was not chasing the same dream either.
Their skills were similar, but they did not entirely align. You weren't sure if it was because of the state of Japanese soccer, as Sae believed, or if it was because Rin could only succeed with his brother's support. Spite did not always work on those with love in their heart.
"Maybe…it's not just about skill," you began. "But also drive."
Rin's jaw clenched slightly. "My drive…came from sharing the dream with him."
It was clear as day. Rin did not hate Sae at all. There didn't seem to be anything in him that could despise his older brother.
"What else happened?" you asked softly. "After he came back from Spain."
"He said he doesn't need me in his life anymore. He went back to Madrid shortly after, and we didn't see each other for about a year," Rin spoke, shaking his head as he recalled the estranged relationship. "Until the U-20s match."
"You hadn't…spoken to each other until then?"
"The first time he spoke to me was on the pitch."
Your heart pounded like cicadas, harsh and drilling.
Like you'd said to Rin in the locker room, that proved to you that this had reached points beyond football. Sae had torn their relationship apart.
"I'm sorry, Rin."
He shook his head. "It's just what happened."
You both fell into silence for a few seconds, letting the words simmer.
"You looked like you needed someone," you started quietly, beginning to explain your interest in this. "I may have not known what happened between you and him, but I…I get how he is. Or was."
"You say that, as if he changed."
You pressed your lips together, not knowing what to say.
It was true that Sae had changed towards you, and perhaps he never disliked you in the first place. But your experience was far different than Rin's.
What was more complicated than two estranged siblings?
You didn't mention Sae again, not wanting Rin's shoulders to slump any further. You asked him about Blue Lock and you both ate some of the treats, before he left around midday.
You'd offered if he wanted to come back again, that tomorrow or the next day would be fine - you were sure Sae wouldn't be home again. Rin told you that he'd let you know.
In the evening, Sae came home and you'd served dinner, before you went upstairs to sort a load of laundry. You usually folded the clothes in the laundry room, straight out of the dryer, but you were busy talking with Rin today.
You unloaded the basket of laundry on your bed, leaving your bedroom door open while you folded and sorted the clothes, in case Sae saw and thought you were being lazy before your shift ended.
Admittedly, you'd been washing yours and Sae's clothes together since it was enough to fill the huge washing machine. It was more convenient. You were especially glad that Sae didn't do the laundry, because you weren't sure what you'd do if he found your underwear mixed with his clothes.
While you folded, you recalled your conversation with Rin.
Sae was complex, as you'd said, and Rin was also the same. From a young age, he wanted to succeed beside Sae, rather than surpass him.
Rin didn't seem to want to be better than Sae. It was commendable even if Rin could aim higher, because he loved his brother more than soccer.
If soccer was what it took for Sae to approve of Rin, then Rin had made it this far by hanging onto that possibility.
As if you summoned him by thought, the knock at the door made you jolt, as his presence usually did.
Sae leaned against the doorframe, wearing a white faux-turtleneck and with a hand behind his back. His magenta hair always popped when he wore white.
He'd never come into your room before, well, not when you were awake. He'd left the new coat and phone in your room while you were asleep that night, when you'd ran off crying.
Then again, you'd never left your door open like this either.
"How can I help?" you asked, surprised your voice stayed even.
He glanced at the laundry behind you for a moment. "Are you busy?"
You shook your head, relieved you'd already put your underwear away in your drawers before he saw them next to his clothes. "No, um…you can come in."
With a nod, he stepped in and revealed the small box that he'd held behind his back.
"Here," he said, holding it out to you.
Your eyebrows rose. What was this now?
You took the box. It was an assortment of loose tea leaves.
You blinked up from it, shocked. "For me?"
He nodded.
"You have already given me so much," you spoke, turning the box over to briefly read about the different types of tea. "Thank you, Sae."
"I just saw it today, in passing," he dismissed.
You gently smiled, with a shake of your head. Him buying you something in passing and remembering you, wasn't simply nothing. "I can't wait to try them. Thank you."
Silence fell between you for a moment, and Sae remained didn't leave the room just yet.
"You don't need to work in the evenings," he spoke, glancing to the laundry behind you again.
"Oh, I…I just forgot to do this in the day," you replied, lying through your teeth. Of course, you had met with Rin during the day.
Your nagging mind considered that Sae might have said that because he was going to let you go soon. If you worked less, then perhaps it would adapt you into not working at all, for when you'd leave him.
"Um…" you started, trying to ignore your anxious mind. He probably wondered what you were doing with him still stood there. You quickly turned around and folded the last few clothes of Sae's, before handing them to him in a neat pile.
He took them hesitantly. You instantly felt guilty, as if you were kicking him out.
He must have wondered what on earth was wrong with you, and why you were more skittish than usual.
You thought quick and picked up the box of tea again. "Do you want to…have some?"
You were a mess. You weren't in Spain, where it made sense to do things together, so offering to spend time with him without an excuse made no sense.
Just as he did in Spain, he nodded and agreed without fault.
Two cups of sencha sat between the two of you, at the kitchen island.
Today, you mirrored the two Itoshi brothers over tea. One felt like a therapy session and the other seemed to be an awkward caricature of casualness.
"It's really good," you spoke, referring to the steaming tea that you'd boiled.
"Good," Sae said. His wrist leaned on the table, as one of his large hands played with the ring on his middle finger. He didn't often wear his ring in Japan before, the family heirloom he'd bought himself, but he seemed to wear it since you'd gotten back from Spain. "I was going to give you a book, but I cannot find it. Have you finished Jane Eyre?"
You nodded, flattered that he'd specifically give you a book, like he was recommending it to you. "I have."
His eyebrows rose in surprise. "Already?"
You nodded again.
"And you say you haven't considered studying," he replied, making the corners of your lips turn up, as he referred to your conversation at Valencia's beach.
"I said I don't know what I would study," you recollected.
"Why? Do you simply not wish to?" he asked.
You bit your lip, in thought. "I don't think I'm made for…anything of the sort."
You didn't mean to sound self-deprecating. It was simply how you'd always felt. Studying in further education was a privilege you never felt like you had, nor did you have the mind for it when you'd worked tirelessly for years, even if you'd done fairly well in your final high school exams.
Your results weren't anything extraordinary, nor were they average either. Other students that had gotten similar grades to yours went to college. You didn't think it was entirely about grades, rather, if one had the opportunity to study further.
"Did you go to college, Sae?" you asked, although you believed you knew the answer.
He shook his head. "No."
"But, you are very…intelligent," you blurted, before averting your eyes.
You were starting to think your mind had a mouth of its own.
Amusement flickered over his face. "I don't think college makes you intelligent. Rather…you put intelligent ideas to use."
You paused. Was he calling you intelligent?
"I…" you started, but you weren't sure how to respond.
"But it isn't for everyone," his deep voice added.
Even if it was something you considered , it was too late to put college applications in anyway.
All you had to think about was your next job, if there would be another so soon.
"Sae…" you started softly, keeping your eyes to your sencha.
"Yes?" he said, but you didn't respond.
You stilled. You couldn't ask him about what would happen to your job now. It was your business and he had no responsibility or concern in where you'd end up next. You were grateful for the time you'd been here, and that was that.
"It's nothing."
His eyelashes flickered, as if he wanted to question you further, but he thankfully left it at that.
Rin messaged you the next day to ask if he could come over again. He seemed more relaxed than the day before. His blue scarf wasn't as tight around his neck. He hung his coat up himself and remembered the way to the living room.
You thought it was sad that he wasn't close to anyone in Blue Lock, because he viewed them as competition. You'd cherish these meetings even more knowing he could speak his mind with you.
"I was going to ask about your ring," you began, glancing to the silver around his ring finger. "Sae has a similar one."
"He posted it to me when he first went to Spain," Rin answered, straightening his finger so you could see it properly.
When Sae said it was a family heirloom he bought himself, it made more sense now. Him and Rin had matching rings that they both still wore to this day and seemingly without each other's knowledge.
"I always wondered if something happened to Sae in Spain," Rin added, at the mention of Spain. "If someone did something to him."
"I don't think…anything in particular happened. I went to Spain and he seemed fine. Better, even," you responded.
"You went to Spain with him?" he asked, slight shock evident in his tone.
You nodded shyly. "Last week."
His brows contorted, as if he were putting pieces together.
"Did he make you work there?" he asked.
"Surprisingly not," you replied.
Something flickered in his eyes. "Is there something between you and my brother?"
Your eyes widened, almost spitting out the tea. You quickly swallowed, before you could choke. "No, no."
Rin was blunt, but you didn't expect him to even care that you'd gone to Spain, let alone to ask that.
"You are both the same age," he added. "Aren't you?"
What was he suggesting?
You gave a slow nod. "We are."
"Why did you go to Spain, for just a week?" he asked, as if he was weighing the options.
You still weren't sure of the answer yourself. If it wasn't for work, what was it? Company? Surely, Sae could get company from anyone else.
"He needed to renew his contract with ReAl Madrid," you spoke. You weren't sure whether to add that Sae decided not to renew it there and then, and that he'd sign it another time with clauses of his own.
Rin retracted. "Right."
"I'm…" you started, "not sure why he invited me."
Rin shrugged slightly. "Maybe he just likes you."
You stilled, considering the words.
Like you…how?
One could argue Sae had done many things to show he liked you as a person, but the idea seemed impossible.
SAE'S POV
Sae closed his black umbrella, before stepping into the warm house. It was storming terribly and he'd parked his car in the garage; he wasn't planning to go out again tomorrow if the weather continued like this. He walked through the windy rain to the house, his umbrella threatening to turn inside out or snap.
You were already there at the door, your sheer presence relaxing all the irritation he'd felt from the weather.
Despite how he already felt the tension in his body unwind, he'd never told you that you needed to greet him every time he came home. You'd done it since your first day here. It sickened him if you felt like you had to do it, if some lowlife employer you'd had before demanded it, like how you'd said they'd conditioned you to constantly apologize or not to speak.
At least, these days, you seemed more relaxed yourself.
"Good evening," you greeted. "Dinner is ready, would you like it now?"
"Thank you. In a few minutes, yes," he answered.
You gave a nod, before excusing yourself.
He wanted to find the book he was going to give you. He was astonished that you'd already finished Jane Eyre.
Since you enjoyed classics, he wanted to give you North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell. It was the last classic he'd read. He wasn't sure if he left it somewhere in the house, like the living room.
He stepped out of his long coat and wet shoes, hanging his umbrella to dry, before heading to the living room to check. However, before he could begin searching, a blatant tangle of blue caught his eye.
It was a scarf on the sofa, that looked unbelievably familiar.
Sae lifted it, spreading the cotton material out on his fingers. The ring on his middle finger felt tight all of a sudden.
He brought the scarf to his nose, inhaling and transporting him to his childhood.
Lavender. Eucalyptus.
Bitter vetiver.
Walks home in the snow and off-track wanders along the bridge flashed in Sae's mind, where the scarf was wrapped around his younger brother's neck.
He didn't look back as he took the scarf to the kitchen. You were carefully ladling soup into a bowl.
"This scarf," he spoke, in case he was completely wrong and it didn't belong to who he thought it did.
You looked up, eyes widening at the clothing in his hand.
"My brother. Itoshi Rin," he began, slightly puzzled. "He was here, wasn't it?"
"Sae, I'm so sorry," you started, in a breath.
"Why was he here?" he demanded.
"I…he…" You were too shocked to explain under pressure, which wasn't anything new to Sae. He held it together, even if it made him grow impatient. "I met him…after the match against Blue Lock and I arranged to meet."
"Just how you met Oliver Aiku at the library?" he asked and immediately regretted it, with the way your face dropped.
"I just offered for Rin to talk, it wasn't…" You let out a helpless breath, as though there was no point in explaining. "It was my offer. He just seemed so upset."
"Is it your job to console my younger brother?" Sae asked.
Here he was, bottling it down to your job. As if he hadn't broken the rules as your boss ages ago.
You swallowed and shook your head, glancing to the floor as you answered in a whisper. "No."
"How many times have you met with him?" he asked.
"Twice," you answered, biting your lip. "Yesterday and today. It was the first time."
Your voice was so soft and small, as if you couldn't bare raising it at him.
Sae knew he'd ruined the bond with his brother, with his own cowardice of wanting to be a midfielder, under the excuse of Rin needing to find his own identity.
If Rin was anything like Sae, he would have used that against Sae. You and Rin were alike in that way, neither of you would hurt Sae.
"It is not your concern to meddle," he spoke, but he knew he had you wrong. He was refusing to listen, same as when he'd punished you when you'd met with Aiku. "You said you did not know anyone in this industry."
Your lips trembled and water fogged your eyes. A tear fell down your cheek. You wiped it away under your eyes, but more fell as you blinked rapidly.
Your sad eyes were even more hopeless and defeated. He swore to himself to not allow you to cry because of him again, and he'd made it worse.
It was the same look in Rin's eyes when Sae pushed him away and told him he was a pain in the ass of a little brother.
You have no value.
I don't need you in my life anymore.
If you keep behaving like you're my little brother, you will never surpass me.
Sae was accusing you of meddling with his life, like some obsessed fan would, instead of being the kind, rational, caring person you always were.
"Please, Sae," you whispered. "Really, I had met Rin that day. I didn't mean to meddle. I was just concerned."
"Why be concerned about someone you do not know?" he asked.
Because you were compassionate, and you were everything he was not.
You took in a breath from your mouth, as a light sob. "I'm so sorry."
Sae didn't know what else to say with your pleading. Frankly, he felt awful.
He took the scarf and walked out, leaving the house to head to the place he hadn't been to in seven years.
YOUR POV
You burst into tears, as soon as you heard the door slam.
You sat at a stool on the kitchen island, pressing your face to the cold table and wrapping your arms around your head as you sobbed. Hot tears wet your sleeves. You sniffled in attempt to stop your nose from blocking.
How could you be so stupid, over and over again?
You should have walked past Rin in the locker room that day, even if it would've filled you with guilt. It would be more bearable than how angry Sae was at you.
This was worse than when you'd met Aiku and understandably so.
You must have looked like you viewed Sae and Rin's relationship as entertainment. Sure, you'd been curious, but you wanted to understand Sae and Rin separately.
Is it your job to console my younger brother?
Why be concerned about someone you do not know?
There was no way Sae would keep you for the remaining time he was in Japan now. You'd disrespected his privacy and broken so many rules, and you'd disrespected his kindness towards you.
You had no idea where he'd gone, but you hoped he was okay.
You lifted your head, feeling dizzy from the amount of tears you'd cried. You wiped your eyes with your soaking sleeves, grabbing a tissue to blow your nose.
You sniffed, making sure another tear wouldn't fall, even if you felt it sting.
Your mind was going to explode.
So, you took your phone and messaged someone you knew would listen.
You immediately regretted leaving the house without your coat in the dark rainstorm. You could hear Sae's voice scolding you.
Water pelted down on you through your knit cardigan and uniform, while the wind pushed you from the edge of the road you stumbled through. It was pitch back even though it was early evening, typical of winter. Regardless, nothing made you feel worse than what you'd done.
You'd made it halfway, as you agreed, and a bright green sports car pulled beside you. Flashy and vivid, just like the man inside it, with his window down to call your name.
"Hey, hop in!" Aiku exclaimed. You reached for the door, but it slid up itself, similar to Sae's blue car he'd taken for the fundraiser.
You slid in and the door closed automatically, warming you into the heat of the car. He switched the dim light on inside and turned to you, concern evident in his hetero-chrome eyes. "You alright?"
Your hair was dripping and raindrops clung to your jaw. You were shivering, as water soaked through your clothes.
"Thank you, Aiku," you murmured. "I'm sorry to get your car wet."
"Don't be silly. But you didn't bring a coat?" he asked. The lack of teasing or cheekiness in Aiku's tone was clear that he knew something was up.
You shook your head. "I forgot."
"Here." He reached behind him, pulling a coat from the backseat. "Wear mine."
You were so cold and exhausted, that you couldn't even deny his kindness.
"Thank you," you said, leaning up to put on his dark blue coat. "And thank you for coming."
"Of course," he responded, earnestly. "Where do you wanna go?"
"I don't know," you mumbled, glancing at your lap.
It was silent for a few seconds, before Aiku spoke again, "I know somewhere. You hungry?"
You waited for Aiku to order for you in the cozy cafe he took you to, while you sat in a sofa chair near a lit fireplace to warm you up, in the corner of the room. You'd told him you couldn't be out for long, so he took you somewhere tucked away in the nearest town.
You'd lost your appetite, but you knew you needed to eat something this evening. You slowly took a bite from the cheesecake he'd gotten you, absently staring into the fire.
"Sure you don't need anything to dry off?" he asked.
You shook your head. Your hair was no longer dripping and soaking; his car's heat had reduced it to dampness, and the fire aided in drying you.
"Okay. You let me know if you need anything," he spoke, glancing at you warily before sipping his coffee.
You sniffed, already feeling a runny nose. "Thank you for coming. I'm sorry I ruined your evening and that this was so sudden. I know I haven't spoken to you in a while, it's my fault."
"Believe me, nothing's been going on since the match. Don't worry. We can catch up any time," he responded.
"Are you well?" you asked quietly.
"Of course. But you…" he started, tentatively. "Wanna tell me what's going on?"
You told him almost everything you could remember, that fed into your stress.
"That is a situation you got on your hands," Aiku spoke with an exhale. He gave a nod, leaning back as if he'd already solved it. "There is one big mistake that you've made."
You rose your eyebrows. You already knew what it was, you just needed to hear it from him.
"You blame yourself," he spoke, the flames of the fire slightly tinting the green tips of his hair orange.
That was…nothing near to what you expected. You thought he'd tell you that you shouldn't have been talking to Rin.
"But it's my fault," you replied, your voice small.
"Come on, sweetheart. Yes, I can see that you meeting with Rin could look confusing to Sae," Aiku began. "But did that bastard let you explain properly? He already came to his own conclusion."
"He is acting like a child. And believe me, many women have said that to me, so I know what it looks like," he continued. A small laugh left you in a breath, although a smile didn't reach your lips. "He's upset because you care. And I think that upset him from the beginning."
"What do you mean?" you asked, your brows contorting.
Aiku tilted his head slightly. "Think of it like this. You were willing to put yourself in a bad position for him, from the start. Like when you carried groceries home in the rainstorm and he'd found you," Aiku explained.
"He's my boss," you replied quietly. "It's what I'm meant to do."
He shook his head. "It's not just that. You act on your concern. He, on the other hand, shuts any feeling of concern away. You showed concern for Rin even though you didn't know him, the same way you did for Sae. I don't know exactly what Sae was thinking, but it's like he went mad because you did what he couldn't."
You let out a sigh, the steam of your hot chocolate ghosting your face.
Was it true?
Did you care too much?
"Do you think I made him uncomfortable?" you whispered.
"I think you made him feel. That's what makes him uncomfortable," Aiku replied.
You turned your gaze to the fire. "I'm not sure I am capable of that."
"You're more capable than you think. He'll realize his mistakes. Or, he's already realized them and he was too much of an idiot to admit to it," Aiku shrugged.
"I just…I'm more scared if I ruined everything between him and Rin," you spoke, sighing.
"Darling, he ruined it all, not you," said Aiku.
"But Sae might be angrier at Rin, because of me. I told him I was the one who asked Rin to meet, but he might still take it out on Rin," you added, blurting every worry out of your head.
"He needs to realize it's his mess he created. What did Rin even do?" Aiku scoffed.
You let out a breath. "I guess…I got scared because he's leaving forever and I won't work there anymore. I don't want him to hate me."
"You should be the one hating him. And you should care about yourself more," Aiku spoke, before adding, "What do you feel for him?"
"I don't know, Aiku. I really don't know what this feeling is," you whispered. It wasn't like you'd felt it before.
"I think I know it well," he spoke.
Neither of you named the feeling. You'd only make your head hurt even more if you mixed that word into this mess.
SAE'S POV
For the first time in seven years, Itoshi Sae stood at the front of the ivory house that contained his early childhood memories. The place hadn't changed. There were still a few small and thin sparse trees in front of the house, and the roofs were still stone grey. The windows were just as shiny and the house was just as wide as when he was a child.
He felt less impulsive as when he did when he got in his car and drove away from his house through the rainstorm.
For once, Sae needed to do the right thing.
The gate hadn't been locked yet, but no lights were on in the house, nor were there any cars parked outside. He stepped to the brown door, lowering his hood under the roof that shielded him from the rain. He pushed in the code to the door that luckily hadn't changed - his mother's birth year and month.
The house was dark and quiet when he walked in. He closed the door behind him and located the light switch on the wall from where he remembered, turning on the hallway light.
The furniture had changed in the living room, from what he could see of it from the door, and so had the feng shui.
He could set the scarf here and leave, if no one was here. He began to fold the blue material, until the creak of floorboards made him glance up.
"Nii-chan?"
Sae paused, the scarf tightening in his hands.
Itoshi Rin stood at the top of the stairs, bending slightly to see clearer.
Rin stepped down the stairs, quick but careful.
Before Sae knew it, his younger brother stood opposite him. Rin stood tall but not cautionary, unlike how they'd stood head-to-head in the match. He wore pyjamas and his dark green hair was slightly ruffled.
"You're here," Rin spoke, confused and quiet.
Sae said nothing and only held out the blue scarf.
Rin's eyebrows furrowed as recognition flickered in his eyes.
"It wasn't her fault," he affirmed.
Just one sentence proved that Rin was the younger brother Sae always knew, while Sae felt like a ghost of a person. Instead of yelling at Sae for never inviting Rin to his estate, he'd defended you instead.
"I know," Sae muttered. It was no one but Sae's fault.
Rin slowly took the folded scarf from Sae's hand, and Sae's eyes wavered at the shine on his finger.
When Sae had first got to Madrid at the age of thirteen, he'd been looking around for gifts to sent to his family. Him and Rin had never had anything matching.
Sae had bought two silver rings. They were plain, but thick and identical. They weren't too expensive, seeing as he was only young when he'd bought them and posted it to Rin. He'd never checked Rin's messages to see if he'd gotten the ring in the post.
"Your ring," Sae voiced, slightly frozen.
Rin folded his hand into a fist and put it by his side, hiding it from Sae's eyes. Sae unconsciously did the same to his, although he knew Rin had seen his.
"Kaa-san and Tou-san are out," Rin spoke lowly.
"When have I ever asked for them?" Sae said.
Rin should know this by now. Even on the night he'd come back from Madrid, Sae headed straight to the football pitch to see if Rin was there.
"There are things I should tell you," Sae began, getting to the point later than usual for him. "I cannot stay for long."
The Itoshi brothers next to each other in the dimly lit living room, where they had used to play with Rin's toys on the floor on weekend mornings, before they'd walked to the football pitch together. This time, they stared to the blank TV that was off.
"When I'd traveled around, it is true that there were players I could not beat," Sae stated, cutting into the white noise.
He heard Rin exhale through his nose, but he did not respond and allowed Sae to continue. Perhaps he was getting flashbacks to the night where Sae declared he wanted to be a midfielder.
"It is true that soccer is not conditional. You cannot be a striker because of me."
"Is that what you came here to say?" Rin asked, bluntly. Despite what Rin believed, Sae wasn't here to repeat that night.
"But it is false that me being your brother is conditional," Sae finished.
"What?"
Sae blinked slowly, the words feeling like venom on his tongue. "You cannot be my brother while I push you away and expect you to succeed. It's a mistake I heavily regret."
Rin was silent. One minute passed, then two.
Sae saw something in his peripheral and glanced down. Rin's hand shook slightly.
"You and I are different, and I have only realized it," Sae said, "Carelessly."
"Nii-chan, you confuse me," Rin muttered. His jaw was slightly clenched, though not out of anger.
"You are better than me. In all aspects," Sae finally admitted, taking a small breath as his heart sped. It was clear he wasn't talking about football.
"Did she tell you to say this?" Rin asked, in disbelief.
Sae shook his head gently. "She didn't get the chance."
Before he heedlessly misunderstood you.
"What happened?" Rin murmured.
"I was afraid. I was a coward," Sae spoke. "I hurt her, like I hurt you."
Sae reached out before Rin could flinch. He lightly pressed his hand to Rin's hair, gently stroking.
For a second, Sae was thirteen again, kneeling in the soft grass of his school's football pitch beside Rin.
That was awesome, Rin.
Play soccer with me.
You can be the second strongest player after me.
Rin glanced up, eyes wide, big and bright - the same way he'd looked up at Sae with awe and wonder as a child. The same way he'd looked at him at the end of the match when he thought Sae would acknowledge him.
"I won't fail to be your brother again, even if you cannot forgive me," Sae declared, lightly swallowing. "I will live with your hatred, the same way you did mine."
Rin's eyes shimmered with water but no tear fell, unlike your continuous tears earlier.
Rin hadn't given up, unlike his poor excuse of an older brother who'd changed his dream and broken Rin's. Even if he felt like it was too late, Sae needed to be half the man his younger brother was and get back home to you.
YOUR POV
Aiku dropped you off in front of the gates, refusing to let you walk back in the dark. The rain was calm for the moment, spitting tiny droplets instead. His bright green car lit up the road.
"Thank you for everything, Aiku," you spoke softly, bending to his open window.
"It's nothing, sweetheart. You tell me when you need me and I'm coming, no questions asked," he spoke.
You smiled gently. You would've probably cried yourself into passing out, if you didn't have Aiku. "Same goes to you. Really."
"You don't owe me anything. If that dickhead makes things worse, I'll spread rumors about him so embarrassing that he never returns," Aiku spoke and you lightly shook your head. "I'll get creative with it."
"I'll see you soon," you spoke. Even if you wouldn't work here anymore, you still wanted to keep in contact with Aiku.
"Keep me posted. Go inside before the rain gets worse," Aiku said, since you'd given him back his coat. "Bye, sweetheart."
"Bye, Aiku."
The house was dark and quiet when you walked in, just as you left it. You quietly shut the door, in case Sae was back. It was around seven o'clock, so you doubted he was asleep. Maybe he still wasn't home, or maybe he was in his room, not wanting to see you.
You quietly and slowly stepped to your room, making yourself scarce, and you showered the rainwater away.
It was early, but you'd make yourself even more sad if you stayed up to remember every word that was said earlier, so you turned the lights off and lay in bed until you fell asleep.
Disgusting eyes raked over you. Shamelessly up and down your body.
You were in the living room at your workplace. A house owned by a man in his fifties, with a wife away with friends for the day, and children that were away at boarding school. Him and his business partners filled the room with smoke, blinding you and making you cough.
"You didn't tell me you had a shiny new toy to play with," one of them said, making them all break out into dark chuckles as you quietly walked into the room.
"Haven't played with her just yet," your boss said, turning to you. His eyes ran over you again, in the short uniform he'd forced you and other female workers to wear. You wished you could cover yourself with the blanket folded the arm of the couch. "Have I?"
Your hands trembled as you placed the bottle of alcohol on the table front of them.
"I can tell it'll be a wild ride," another one chuckled. His filthy hand brushed yours, as he took the bottle.
You felt like you needed a thousand showers from that alone, and it wouldn't be enough. No matter how much you'd scrub your skin red, you'd never feel clean again.
"Quiet out here and loud in the bedroom. You'll need to stuff her mouth shut."
Their words were all the same, that you couldn't differentiate who said who anymore, with the smoke filling the room. You wished the room would set on fire with you in it, so you'd never need to be alive to hear such things again.
The room spun, as the smoke whitened the room and went to your lungs. The suits suddenly disappeared and you felt relieved, despite your fall into unconsciousness.
Then, the call of your name echoed, louder and louder, until it blared in your eardrums.
Your eyes opened, with a loud gasp. You shot up, out of breath and sweating like you'd just ran a marathon. Tears fell from your eyes, as you recovered.
Something warm and gentle loosely held your hand.
Your eyes widened at the silhouette kneeling at your bed.
"S-Sae?" you spoke, through tears.
"Are you alright?" he asked. "You were screaming."
"I…" You were at a loss for words, but you didn't hope this was a dream.
If this was fake, then it would mean there was the possibility of going back to that room again. Or another room, with any man and the same crude words.
Sae stood up and your shaky hand tightened around his.
He paused. You couldn't see his face and he couldn't see yours, but you both knew what you wanted.
Warm arms wrapped around your shoulders, as you buried your face into his chest, breathing in the scent of men's shower gel.
Your heart pounded, trying to rid of the image of the room you'd been subjected to in the past, that the dream had recollected in detail. It felt as though you had eidetic memory for those traumatic moments alone.
"I'm here," he muttered, a hand stroking your upper back as you caught your breath. "It was just a dream."
You settled slightly and pulled away after a while, glancing up to him.
"Do you want some water? I will get it from downstairs," he offered.
You nodded. That would give you time to wake up.
Sae went to get the water.
You glanced at the time on the digital clock - 12am.
Suddenly everything came crashing down again, as you remembered everything from earlier. You let out a breath, as your racing mind faded from the nightmare and returned to the worry of Sae.
You only got nightmares when you were incredibly distressed.
Did it need to be something like that revisiting you?
He'd said you were screaming. Guilt took over your body, almost ridding of the fear you'd felt moments ago. It wasn't too late, but he must've slept early if he had something to do tomorrow.
Sae wasn't a monster, not like the men in that room, to not check on you if you were screaming in the night. Still, he'd let you cling to him and he even hugged his arms around you, despite the mess you'd caused earlier.
You turned the lamp on, rubbing your face to rid of the grogginess.
Sae returned with the glass of water, handing it to you.
"Thank you," you whispered, swallowing the cold water down and refreshing your dry mouth. "Did I wake you?"
"I hadn't gone to sleep yet," he replied.
You gave a nod, looking at the duvet across your lap instead of his teal eyes. "Sorry for my noise."
It was only one of the many things to apologize for.
"Don't be. Do you want to go back to sleep?"
You shook your head. The nightmare had jolted you awake, and you felt too afraid to go back to sleep now.
"Can I sit?" he asked.
You nodded, and he sat at the edge of the bed. The air was uncomfortable for a multitude of reasons, yet you were glad he didn't leave. You sat in silence for a few minutes, staring into thin air.
"How do you feel?" he asked, his head turning to you.
"I'm okay," you whispered, not holding eye contact with him. "May we…talk?"
"If I can talk first," he replied, surprising you. "Actually, I wonder if I can show you something."
His eyelashes shadowed under his eye from the lamplight, as he blinked and waited for your answer.
You gave a nod. Leaving your room right now was probably the best thing to do to rid of the shaken up feeling from the nightmare.
Trowels and Scales| Rafayel x Archaeologist! Reader Ch 5
Prev
Ao3
About: The expedition is about to begin! But a proper expedition cannot begin without navigating red tape and academic/government bureaucracy. You and Rafayel have to hurry up and wait, so you take your time with your own investigations while the pieces fall into place. In the meantime, it's back to bodyguard duty, and all it entails with your enigmatic boyfriend.
The puzzle pieces are falling together.
Contains spoilers for: Your Fragrence, Dangerously Close
TW/Heads up!: Mentions of experimentation on humanoids, slightly spicier content due to the Your Fragrance trio, huge theme of grief and mourning
Word Count: 26k
A/N: Writer's block and job hunting is taking up a lot of my time, so these updates are coming slow as molasses. Oh well, the fic has like 10+ hours of read time as is so I don't feel too horrible lol. This was a fun one to write! This chapter marks us at the first quarter of the fic!!!! It'll be roughly 20 chapters, so with this chapter, Act 1 is officially over.
Also, I really enjoy bullying Carter :p
Off we go!
Divider credit: @thecutestgrotto
The engine of Rafayel's car purrs as he drives down the road. You're adjusting your top for the tenth time, ensuring it was appropriate and professional. You weren't one to preen before academic meetings, everyone knew what archaeologists did, after all. It was hardly a surprise when someone in the field came in with a few specks of dirt or the scent of the strongest mosquito and bug repellent known to man. Or still smelling lightly of salt or bog water, depending on location.
But you weren't in the field. Not yet.
The scent of oceanwater still hung in the air, but it wasn't from you. It seemed to hover around Rafayel constantly. Clinging to his clothes and skin. He perpetually smelled of the seabreeze. Perhaps something that came from his Lemurian ancestry? Or perhaps it was because he lived on the water.
"Nervous?" Rafayel chuckled as he turned the wheel. His eyes remained on the road but would occasionally flick towards you, watching you in the reflection of something.
"A little. More excited than anything." You finally stop your fidgeting and sit back in the seat. "I mean... it's finally happening."
"Yeah, weird to think about, huh?" Rafayel was dressed professionally. That blue suit, a set of sunglasses perched on his head in case the sun got into his eyes. Crisp, clean, professional, prepared. After all, he was acting as an academic consultant for the Deepspace Academy's excavation. "All this time, and it's finally happening."
"You nervous, too?"
Rafayel shrugged a single shoulder. "Not really. I might've been a little worried, but since you and Dr. C are involved it can't be that bad." He pulled into the parking lot of the academic building where the first meeting would be held. This would be to discuss budget, constraints, timing, red tape, etc. And it would be an opportunity to officially meet everyone involved in the excavation. This one was being kept under wraps for the time being. After the events of the previous excavation, those in charge elected to move slowly and quietly. The police had supposedly dropped the case, though murmurs of foul play still hung in the air. Your fingers wring the fabric of your pants for a moment as your thoughts drift. But the car turning off brought you back to reality.
Rafayel exited the car and came to your side, opening the door and offering you his hand. He doesn't comment, but the look on his face tells you he knows exactly what you're thinking about. He lifts your hand to his lips for a single kiss, his other arm curling around you to pull you close. "Relax." He murmured into your ear. "Nothing's gonna happen this time. Promise."
"I'm gonna hold you to that." You murmur back, keeping your voice low since you were right there in the parking lot. "No funny business."
"None. I'll be dead serious. Scout's honor."
You finally snort, shoving his shoulder lightly as he cracks a grin. "You were never a scout, weirdo."
"Hey, it made you laugh." Rafayel pocketed the keys to his car and started to guide you by the arm around your waist. You had noticed he was rather comfortable with PDA with you, but at the same time didn't want to put either of you in the compromising position of being found by paparazzi. You'd seen some of the scandalous and horrible things they'd said about Rafayel. If they caught the two of you together in a romantic context you knew they'd be after you, next.
But you knew the Deepspace Academy's walls should be safe. This expedition was under lock and key, so no paparazzi should be ambushing you.
You walk in, the air crisp with various scents of chemical solutions. You walk by a handful of various labs, including the anthropological and archaeological labs, before finding the meeting room. The Deepspace Academy had recently upgraded many of its buildings. But, like usual, the archaeology building got left behind. The chairs and carpet were dated, and there was still a very old computer sitting in the very back corner. However, there was a brand new projector on a wheeled cart at the front, with a handful of other people fiddling with it to get it up and running. One of those individuals was a short woman with dark, choppy hair. She was in a vest with a collared shirt, sleeves rolled up as she messed with the projector. She heard your footsteps on the carpet and turned.
"Dr. C!" You greet her with a grin. She hops up off the floor and bounds over, immediately embracing you as you return the gesture. She called your name in kind.
"Good to see you two made it! Traffic okay?"
"Traffic was just fine, Dr. C." Rafayel laughed. Dr. C turned to him and grabbed his hand, but with a tug in from him the two hugged as well. "You've known me long enough, Hannah, we can hug."
"Just didn't want to assume, Rafayel. Good to see you two, really. How have you been? It's been a while." She stepped back after the hugs, looking over the both of you.
"Fine, just chaotic as usual. I'm sure you heard about the Wanderer attack at that excavation?" You continue the small talk, catching her up to date on life. She nodded, her gaze now sharper as she looked you over. "Yeah, I was there. Thankfully the Hunter's Administration in the region was quick to answer our SOS. Everyone got out okay, but gods, I'm just having the most rotten luck."
"Well. That stops here." She spoke with conviction, gesturing for the two of you to follow her. All three of you walk to the front where two others were working on the projector. "No more Wanderers, or weirdly vanishing colleagues, nothing."
"What about haunted ruins? Or cantankerous raccoons?" You lean over her shoulder teasingly, and Dr. C cut her eyes over at you with an amused smile.
"Raccoons won't be that far underwater. No promises on haunted ruins, though." She turned back to the two others in the room, gesturing to them. "This is Dr. Chen and Margie Park, they're two of the recent hires by the Deepspace Academy. They're taking over the archaeology department." You turn to the two others still fiddling with the projector. When their names were called, they turn to look at you and Rafayel. Dr. Chen stops what he's doing and extends his hand first to you.
"Ah! You're Hannah's old student, aren't you? She speaks highly of you." You shake his hand before he turns to Rafayel, an amused glimmer in his eye. "And I didn't expect to meet the infamous Rafayel Qi today! A pleasure to meet both of you."
"I didn't think I'd be meeting a famous artist today, would've worn something nicer." Margie chimed in next, dusting off her pants when she got off of the dirty carpet. Rafayel scoffed but shook her hand when she offered it.
"Not here as an artist, actually."
"Mr Qi-"
"Rafayel." Raf glanced at Dr. C as he gently corrected her. She smiled a bit brighter.
"Rafayel is here as a consultant on Lemurian history and language. He's known to be quite the scholar on the matter, so I convinced the board to reach out to him." Margie and Dr. Chen both nod along, but look mildly surprised.
"Rafayel, you don't take jobs like this with just anyone." Margie gave the projector one more, last ditch effort to make it work. She slammed on the top of it with her first. It whirred to life with no more protest, so she dusted her hands off with a satisfied smile. "What caught your eye here?" Rafayel shrugged, taking his sunglasses off his head before tucking them into his breast pocket. He was trying so hard to be casual. But you noticed how his hand kept twitching to hold yours.
"I was introduced to Dr. C when I served as a professor for the Linkon University earlier this year, we both sat in on each others' lectures. And I kept running into this one," He nudged you with his elbow. "All over the place. So I hired them to be my bodyguard on occasion, and we've kept in touch."
Margie and Dr. Chen looked between the two of you for a moment.
"We're dating." You finally let the cat out of the bag with a resigned laugh. "But all of that is true, too." They immediately nodded in understanding.
"We won't say a word." Margie spoke before anyone else could. She displayed her palms with a smile, showing her earnestness. "We get it. Paparazzi and gossip papers would have a field day."
"Glad we're on the same page." Rafayel's shoulders noticeably relaxed, though he played it off by brushing his hair out of his face with a nonchalant expression. Dr. C clapped her hands.
"Alright, that's introductions. We should have everyone else joining us soon. This'll just be our first meeting to get plans together. Discuss the plans for the survey and excavations." She addressed everyone. "Let's keep getting the projector set up. Can someone volunteer to help me get the old notes from Eleanor's old office?" The name sent another twinge of bitterness through you, but you step forward with a smile. Rafayel soon joins you. You see him unbuttoning and shrugging off his suit jacket in your peripheral, before rolling his sleeves up.
"Let me guess..." Raf cracked another smile. "It's a bunch of old boxes filled to the brim with even older papers."
"You'd be right. So if you're offering to come with, offer accepted. Let's go." Dr. C chuckled at him, gesturing for the two of you to follow her into the hallway once more. All three of you in your dress shoes, whatever that meant to each of you, making crisp footfalls down the hall. the hard floors showed signs of wear and tear from the years of the building's existence. Another sign to the building's neglect. But the smell of the hall was familiar. The nostalgia of your first visit, the first time you met Eleanor and the others, permeated the air.
First, you passed by Sean's office.
You remember the first time you met him. The awkward professor in a vibrant green sweater. Eccentric but practical elbow patches with fraying edges. He rambled too fast one minute, but listened to you with rapt attention the next. Eyes wide, nodding emphatically. He smelled like cedar, for some reason you never found out.
Sean's name had already been pried off the door. The once pristine bronze name only had nail holes showing it was once there, and the paint underneath was still as fresh as the day the placard went up.
You huff a humorless laugh. How like Sean, to preserve something even in his absence.
Next, it was Yennifer's.
Lilac and gooseberries. Her name alone meant her perfume washed over you. She never wore it in the lab or the field. But every other chance she got, she wore her signature scent. Black curls fell over her shoulders, and her gaze always pinned you. Yet her voice haunted you. Her gentle redirection from fantasy to reality, setting you on the path to Lemurian archaeology with your feet firmly on the ground. Her students always had an extreme reaction to her. Those who loved her loved her, those who disliked her detested her. A polarizing personality. But she was revered. Adored. A true testament to the fact that people in the field didn't have to sacrifice their femininity, should they choose not to.
You smile thinking about the first time she straightened your collar before a presentation. The note she asked Dr. C to give you. Her lingering perfume on everything she touched outside of the lab or a site.
Her name was still up outside the door. You swear you can still smell her perfume.
Fred's was next.
A humble man. Quiet. Well spoken, but soft spoken. He had a sharp sense of humor. Watching him present research was like watching a master storyteller weave their tale. His campfire stories were the best during excavations, and you can still taste the stew he'd make on his nights for dinner. You never considered yourself too close with any of these people. They were Dr. C's friends. But seeing the light on behind the door made you want to pop your head in. Greet him with a smile and a joke. Ask for that recipe again. You can taste it on your tongue- the rich spices melting on your tongue.
The light was on behind his door. You recognize his wife's voice, whispering in hushed tones. You stop for a moment. She didn't know you. Should you say something? You swallow, your tongue feeling uncharacteristically heavy in your mouth. You turn. Dr. C and Rafayel were both waiting. Silent. Dr. C's eyes glistened, unshed tears catching in the light for just a moment. Rafayel watches you with a concerned expression.
You pick up your feet and keep walking.
Eleanor's office was up ahead.
Her laugh. Oh, her laugh. There was something so magical about it. Something so whimsical. She'd disarm the cruelest of men, put the most skeptical at ease with a gentle laugh. It was something you admired her for. Being able to put people at ease like that. It was almost like her superpower. She didn't have an evol, but there were times you wondered if that laugh of hers might have been one. She was also quiet, but when she spoke it was with kindness and empathy. She was a renowned scientist, a well respected researcher.
But oh, the sound of her laugh.
You freeze outside her door. The hall felt dead without the sound of her laughter. Without Yennifer's scent. The taste of Fred's stew. The sight of Sean's frayed elbow pads.
Rafayel placed a hand on your waist. You jerk your head up to look at him, finally realizing a few stray tears were escaping your eyes. He didn't speak. He just planted a tender, loving kiss against the crown of your head. You take a shuddering deep breath. In all the chaos of meeting Rafayel, had you ever mourned them? Had you ever gotten the chance to process their disappearance? Rafayel had promised you they were alive.
But they were still gone.
"Do you need a moment?" Rafayel finally whispered. You take another shuddering breath, wiping your cheeks with the side of your thumb.
"No, no, I'm okay. I just... didn't think it was gonna hit me like this." You straighten up. You don't push him away or shrug off his touch, but you do take the moment to slow your breathing. Try to pull yourself together. Maybe tonight you owe yourself a stupid soap opera and a glass of wine just to get all the crying out of your system. You turn to Dr. C, who was also a bit misty eyed. She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice immediately cracked, so she shut her mouth again with a strangled hum. Rafayel looked over at her alongside you, before gently patting your arm. He entered the office first, surveying the various boxes. Someone else had already organized them, so he just took his time grabbing one or two to put in the hall.
Dr. C joins him, and you grab two lighter boxes that'll stack on top of each other. You work in silence, suppressing your sniffles as the boxes slowly piled outside the office one by one. Soon enough the three of you are bringing boxes down the hall. Two or three at a time. Between the three of you you have all the boxes set in the room in minutes, which was just enough time for you to pull yourself together. You and Rafayel grab the final two boxes and walk down the hall, Dr. C muttering to herself about which box she'd need to pull for what information. As you walk you hear a buzz of conversation from the meeting room. With every box you dropped off the room got fuller. You recognized some old colleagues, and even spot the head of the Deepspace Academy himself.
But as you put the final box down, you spot someone else.
Carter.
You immediately whip your head around to look at Dr. C and Rafayel, eyes wide in shock. Rafayel followed your original line of sight before scowling, and Dr. C didn't bother to hide her own look of distaste. But she straightened herself, forced a smile, and marched further into the meeting room. You and Rafayel are quick to follow.
He was chatting it up with the head of the Deepspace Academy, laughing while shaking hands like they were longtime friends. Dr. C got to the two of them before you and Rafayel, her smile kind, but you knew her well enough to see the tension in the way she stood and spoke.
"Carter, what are you doing here?" Carter turned when she spoke. He smiled in kind, but you could tell it was fake.
"Oh! Hannah, good to see you again." He turned back to the man he was speaking to. "Hannah and I met on that island excavation-"
"That you didn't have authorization to visit, yes." You speak up next, standing beside Dr. C with a tense smile. "I didn't think you were a part of the board for this. Last I checked, you don't have any real background on Lemuria." Carter brushed off the air of hostility with a laugh.
"No, no, I'm here on EVER's business. Gives me an opportunity to get out of the office and the lab for a while." Carter shrugged. “But you’re not exactly right. I have some knowledge, surface level. After all, they’re the namesakes of LCMECS.” You notice Rafayel stiffen out of the corner of your eye. Carter appears to notice as well, since he turns to give him his attention. "And Rafayel! Good to see you again. I'm sure you're here for your historical knowledge and not your skill with a paintbrush."
"Alright, alright." The other man stepped forward, putting a hand on Carter's shoulder as he blocked him from the three of you. "That's enough, no need to antagonize anyone. Dr. Capek, you've already met Carter, but he is here on behalf of EVER with an offer. Since he's the only one who has interacted with the archaeologists from our crew they sent him to offer financial backing."
"Oh, so a bribe?" The words fall out before you can stop yourself. Typically you'd hold yourself with much more restraint and tact, but that smug son of a bitch hiding behind another man just got on your nerves. You're shot a sharp look by multiple others in the room, but you don't stand down.
"Now, now," Dr. Chen steps forward as well, chuckling nervously. "Let's all just settle down. EVER is a reputable organization of researchers! Why shouldn't we accept a donation? Besides, they created the OTTOs we see all over Linkon, the gear the Hunter's Association uses... They are a reputable organization."
"Certainly." Rafayel spoke up next, his voice terse. "But that doesn't erase the fact that EVER was not supposed to be alerted to this excavation."
All eyes turned to the president of the Deepspace Academy. He tilted his head, a look of agreement on his face. "He has a point... Carter, how did you find out about this?"
"Didn't you send an email?" Carter tried to play innocent, but there was a reason he was a researcher and not an actor.
"I think it's time for you to go." The president sighed, grabbing his shoulder as he guided him out to the doors. "We'll discuss this again over coffee, call me later." You can hear his voice drifting as he escorted him out and away. The tension in the room didn't fade with his absence. If anything the tension only increased as your colleagues looked at you in confusion from your newfound hostility.
"What was all of that about?" Margie spoke first, cocking her head as she looked between the three of you standing together as a unified front. You certainly didn't mean to cause such a spectacle, and the sudden attention from everyone in the room could have made your face burn hot. But you had much more important things on your mind.
You take a deep breath. "Without getting into the details, Carter and someone else from EVER approached Dr. Capek and me on an excavation a few months back. They were badgering students, trying to get us to work for EVER as well. Neither of them had clearance to be there, so we still don't know how or why they got to that part of the island. We both found it odd, and questioned what motives there may have been. And now? I don't like this. EVER shouldn't have been alerted to this excavation, it hasn't been made public yet. Plus, we all know some of the shadier things its done, wouldn't accepting money from them in any capacity introduce bias?"
"Bias is unavoidable, we're all human." Someone said.
"Having a bias and allowing a corporation that destroyed an entire city to involve itself with this expedition are two different issues." Rafayel finally spoke again, a hint of a snap in his voice. But he schooled himself quickly. Pinching the bridge of his nose as he stepped closer to you. "The committee will decide whether or not to accept the funding. But we all know funding like this doesn't come without strings attached. What's in it for them, huh?"
Dr. C, trying to get the meeting back on track, pulled one of the boxes up and put it on the table. She started to filter through it as she tossed in her own two cents. "Rafayel has a point. We don't know what kind of expectations there may be. Even if this is an extension of good will, they wouldn't do it if there wasn't something they want in return."
"That's my concern." You agree. You join Dr. C, Rafayel following close behind. "We don't know what they want."
"I suppose we'll find out soon." Dr C. started to hand you different files and papers. You scan over the titles as you set them out in neat piles. Maps, logistics, the original plans from the original site. The results of the survey from the original site. While everyone else waited for the president of the Deepspace Academy to return, Dr C. took control. "Let's go ahead and get started!"
You wished you could've paid closer attention to everything going on. But the constant, looming pressure distracted you more than you thought it would. Rafayel remained seated beside you. Somehow both your rock, and someone leaning on you in return. You were both feeding on each others' nerves and discomfort. You wanted to be happy to see old colleagues. You wanted to hug an old friend from Field School you hadn't seen in years. You wanted this to be a reunion, a new start.
But you kept thinking about that skeleton from your nightmares.
Your fingers found the chain of your necklace, one hand fiddling with it as the other jotted down notes on autopilot. Luckily, the current plan is to pursue an excavation a bit further away from the original site. Due to the disappearance of the other archaeologists the area was still closed off by law enforcement, even though the case had officially been closed for the moment. There was no clear timeline on when, or if, the site would ever be open again.
All the more reason to keep EVER far, far away from this project.
The bottomline of the meeting was circled in your journal.
Red tape still needed to be navigated with law enforcement and governing bodies. Those involved will be kept in the loop
The Deepspace Academy is partnering with a maritime community for housing during the excavation itself.
The dig itself will last six weeks, give or take, depending on licensing, equipment, and findings.
It will follow the typical Phases. Phase I will be conducted to survey for artifacts, and then proceed into a Phase II if the site is confirmed.
The meeting is adjourned, so you lift your journal and snap it shut in your hand. The sudden sound startled Rafayel out of his daydreaming, sitting bolt upright after leaning his chin in his palm. You can't help yourself, you snort at him, before tucking the journal in your bag. "Meeting's over, Mr. Qi. You're lucky no one asked for your input on anything. Did you even hear anything?" Rafayel sat up a bit more, stretching his arms above his head.
"Yeah, yeah, I did. They'll let you know about the excavation itself, blah blah red tape, blah blah more research necessary."
"Yeah, that's the short version of it." You stand up, setting your bag on the table as you jog down the meeting room's steps to the front. Rafayel follows you, approaching Dr. C, Dr. Chen, and Margie. The three were putting the boxes back together, marking some with sticky notes for future reference. "Need any help putting these away?" Margie popped her head up, smiling at the two of you.
"No, we've got this! We'll be moving them into our offices to review." She hoisted a box onto her hip. "Rafayel, could we count on you to translate if we encounter any Lemurian terms or language on the documents?"
"Sure." He shrugged. "But you'll be better off asking one of these two to reach me. Emails and texts get buried easily." He gestured to you and Dr. C, which got a chuckle out of Margie.
"Playing favorites, huh?"
"Shamelessly." Dr. C agreed with an amused smile. "You should have seen him when he came to my office asking for-"
"Aaaaaaand would you look at the time!" Rafayel interrupted before the teasing session could begin. You both were getting earfuls of it from your own circles, though you figured it was a small price to pay to be shamelessly in love with each other. Rafayel wrapped an arm around you, tugging you close as he checked his phone. "I've got a missed call from my manager, and we need to be heading out, anyway."
"It was nice to meet you both." You add with an amused smile, knowing Rafayel was trying to escape. Dr. C shook her head but didn't push her luck, while Dr. Chen and Margie gave their own farewells. Surely you'd all keep in touch as licenses and red tape were navigated. With polite farewells out of the way, Rafayel was all but dragging you to the exit. You weren't surprised. You saw the way he stiffened at the mention of the LCMECS. That paired with how he zoned out for most of the meeting? You two needed to talk.
And walls have ears, even here.
The walk back is silent. Only footfalls reverberated on the walls, a haunting reminder of those who were missing. You had never realized how lonely this building felt. Dr. C's friends filled the halls with enough life to make up for it, but now? Now they're gone.
You shake it off. Not now. You'll wait until you get home.
Rafayel opens the door for you and you slide in. The door shuts, and he gets in his seat. You take off your bag and settle in. Buckle your seatbelt. Waiting for him to break the silence with whatever was on his mind. The doors were shut. Locked. And the engine rumbled to life. Only then did Rafayel speak.
"LCMECS are the result of experimentation on Lemurians."
You whip your head around to face him, eyes nearly popping out of your head. "They're what?!"
"I don't remember what the abbreviation fully stands for off the top of my head." Rafayel's tone was somber. He backed out of the parking spot. He didn't make eye contact with you, his body on autopilot as he started to move. "But I know the first word is Lemurian. Regenerating cells that appear almost immortal- the result of a Lemurian's blood."
"By the gods, Rafayel..." You, however, couldn't look away from him. "That bitch, he dropped that way too casually. Does Carter-"
"No. He shouldn't know who or what I am." He continued. Eyebrows drawn tight, voice flat. "He was just showing off. A student of mine from that art appreciation class told me. He was a biology major. It's something they're testing. He didn't know the details. I was only able to find a few details myself."
"And let me guess..." You finally tear your eyes away from him to rub your face. "EVER is the one supplying the cells for testing?"
"Bingo."
His confirmation made your mouth run dry. You throw your head back against the headrest. Looking up at the roof of the car with a distant look in your eyes. Every passing day you got a little more information on the severity of the situation for Lemurians, and this was another necessary detail. You rub your face, another flash of the skeleton appearing in your minds' eye. "We have to keep EVER far away from this project."
"If it can't happen without their involvement, it can't happen at all." You didn't need to look at Rafayel to know his expression. Wound tight, eyes narrowed, gritting his teeth. You couldn't blame him. "No hard feelings, cutie."
"None." You agree with a heavy, aggravated sigh. "None at all. I hate it, but I agree. We have to keep this from happening... should we get Dr. C in the loop?"
"Not yet. I'd rather keep this as small as possible." He cut his eyes over to you at a red light. You wanted to protest- Dr. C would make for a great ally- but you knew why he was saying this. The more people involved, the more people in danger. After all, look at what's happened to you ever since you met Rafayel. Hell, you vividly remember Rafayel cautioning Dr. C to be careful as well the day you attended his lecture. He must already be concerned with her clear ties to him. So you sigh.
"I get it." You agree. "But let's not count her out. She's a good friend, and a great ally."
"I know that." Rafayel was finally able to smile, if only a little. "She helped me get closer to you. But I don't want EVER to set its sights on anyone else, you had enough eyes on you after we met."
"Good point." Before you could continue the conversation, Rafayel's phone began to vibrate. Raf glanced at it but returned his eyes to the road.
"Would you-?"
"On it." He doesn't need to finish his thought. You grab the phone and answer the call before either of you could even see or process who was calling.
"Rafayel, why weren't you answering your emails?" Thomas's voice filled the car, and Rafayel immediately grimaced.
"We were out, remember? We had a meeting."
"A meeting...?" Thomas sounded confused for a moment, before he laughed. "Oh! Right, good. Everything looking good for the excavation?" Of course, Thomas was filled in as well. He'd need to be aware of Rafayel's schedule. Besides, he was excited to hear about it. Even commended you on managing to rope Rafayel into it when you both told him, though Thomas missed the shared look between the two of you after the fact.
"So far, so good. They just need to get the permits and licenses. They'll let me know whenever they need translation stuff." Rafayel shot you a look. You both knew Thomas wasn't calling out of the blue for no reason. He wants something.
"Good, good. Just checking in... so, did you see that email I forwarded you about a collaboration with a perfume house? They're looking to partner with you to make a few perfumes based on some of your pieces and advertise the two together." Rafayel immediately blew a raspberry.
"Yeah, right. No thanks. My work speaks for itself. And I don't want people to associate some stuck up brand's work with my art. No."
"Rafayel...." Thomas sighed. He called your name next. "Hey, help me out here. Back me up."
"Wha-?! Hey! Don't try and gang up on me!" Rafayel immediately complained, but you found yourself thinking. Yennifer always wore her signature scent when she wasn't in the field or lab. The scent was so evocative, and so uniquely her. Scent was so intrinsically entwined with your memories of her, and everyone else who has ever met her. "Come on, back me up here, not him!"
"Well... scents can be very evocative. They trigger memories." You rub the back of your neck with one hand, using the other to hold the phone. Rafayel spluttered.
"No! You're supposed to be on my side!"
"Ha!" You could practically hear Thomas' grin on the other side of the line. "We can be very persuasive, Rafayel. It pays well, they're not asking you to do this for free. It'll be a worthwhile collaboration, and they offered to donate a portion of proceeds to a charity of your choice, to sweeten the deal."
Rafayel pouted. "Ganging up on me... I can't believe this. My manager and my partner. Cruelty. Pure cruelty."
"I'm not gonna make you do it!" You put your free hand up again in surrender. "I just think this would be a nicer one to do, y'know? Something less... I don't know, academic? You don't have to grade anything as a prof or translate anything for an excavation, you just get to create and they'll turn around and transform it into a scent." Rafayel's pretty little bottom lip remained out. But as you explained it slowly retreated. His pout turned into a pensive look.
"Would that be right?"
"Yes, they just want the rights to create perfumes based on a handful of paintings made for this specific collaboration. Then host an event for the release."
"So... I get full creative freedom to make a couple of paintings. They pay for the collaboration, make the perfumes, host an event, and donate money to a charity of my choice?" Rafayel still sounded skeptical.
"We'll need to review the contract to make sure there's no surprises if you're interested. But that's what they said."
"Total creative freedom?"
"Total creative freedom."
Rafayel fell silent after Thomas' confirmation. He pressed his lips together in a thin line, thinking about it. You could practically see the gears turning in his head. Total creative freedom. All he had to do was paint whatever he wanted, then show up to the event when the time was right. He tilted his head from side to side.
"They already have some perfumes in the works based on the common themes across your works, you know, sea salt notes, ocean based, those kinds of things. But they're just waiting for the okay, and for some paintings for the official collab."
"Go ahead and tell them I'm interested. Send me the contract when it gets sent over." Rafayel finally agreed. You didn't really have much of a hand in his decision but you still wanted to pump your fist in the air as he agreed. "I can't make any promises on timing since I've already agreed to be a part of another project."
"I'll communicate that to them. Perfume making is a lengthy process when starting from scratch, so it shouldn't be an issue so long as we stay in contact with them."
"Sounds good." Rafayel hummed. Just as he said this there was a baby's cry in the background, a wail that made both you and Rafayel grimace.
"Oh- I gotta go, working from home today."
"Take care of your family, Thomas, we'll talk later." Rafayel finally cracked a smile, hearing rustling movement on the other end of the line. He nodded to you, so you said your own farewell and hung up. There's a beat of quiet in the car before he cut his eyes over to you. "I didn't think you were a perfume kind of person."
"I wasn't thinking about myself when you asked for my thoughts." You set his phone down, laughing ruefully. "I was thinking of one of those archaeologists that went missing. She had a signature scent. Never wore it in the lab or on a dig, but in everyday life she always wore it. Whenever I think of her I swear I can smell it."
Rafayel's teasing tone slowly melted away, revealing a more sympathetic look. He cut his eyes over to you momentarily. "Oh." He murmured. "I see."
"It's fine, it just was on my mind since we passed by her office this morning." You shrug before turning to look out the window.
You try to distract yourself. It was a beautiful day. The weather was steadily changing, and fall was on its way. You had no idea when the Lemurian excavation would be at this point, licenses and permits could take forever to get. Besides, there was plenty of concern across all levels of administration. The first expedition caused a lot of chaos. The missing archaeologists, the filmmaker who lost his memory, the way all evidence of anything just... vanished. The archaeological community will whisper about it for years.
"What did it smell like?" Rafayel's voice snapped you out of your thoughts for a moment, preventing you from spiraling any further.
"Lilac and gooseberries."
Rafayel snorted. "Oh that's a reference." You can't help but smile as well.
"Inspired by her namesake. It suited her. I've never smelled anyone else wearing it. It's just so quintessentially... her."
"Lemurians use scent a lot, too." Rafayel kept his eyes on the road. But when you looked at his eyes, you find a gleam of nostalgia in them. "There was a special kind of incense used underwater. Especially in the temple for the god of tides. And there were these... special scents used between bonded couples. Scent wasn't something used lightly." You don't dare interrupt. It isn't often he spoke of his past, his people, so when he did you sat silently to soak it all in. His lips twitched into a frown. "They were made from natural ingredients, it's what we're used to, so the synthetic stuff gives me a headache."
"Might be worth mentioning that in the contract then." You do pipe up to share your thoughts. "I'd hate for you to go to the event, whenever it ends up being, and get a nasty headache the second you walk in."
"True. I'll mention it to Thomas." He turned, and soon you were in front of your apartment building again. You had the day to continue some preparation. You needed to do some gear upkeep, patch up that sun shirt that got ripped up. You knew this excavation would be underwater, but it always paid to be prepared. He parked the car and stepped out, coming to your side. He opened the door for you, so you grab your things and step out. It had become habit for him to walk you to your apartment, chatting and joking or just quietly holding your hand all the while. Your footsteps are softened by the carpet, but his steady presence filled your senses more than the silence.
You squeeze his hand. "They're... they're alive. Right?"
He squeezed your hand right back. "I swear it to you. They're alive. They're safe. Out of reach of EVER." He dropped his voice to say this, keeping his voice low. Walls had ears, so Rafayel spoke directly into your ear. With his assurance you squeeze his hand one more time.
"Okay."
"But that doesn't mean you can't mourn." Rafayel added. His footsteps slowed as your approach your apartment. "They're not here. Even if you know they're alive, that doesn't mean you can't mourn. You miss them. You mourn because you care about them and wish they were here." You look up at him, and somewhere in his eyes he's lost in the past. You're not surprised. How much loss has he survived? How many Sea Moon Ceremonies, how many missing Lemurians? Knowing they're somewhere, but nowhere within reach?
He of all people knew what you were feeling best.
You stop outside your door, reaching up to hug his neck. Rafayel releases your hand to hug you close instead. Holding your face to his chest so you could squeeze your eyes shut. You don't want to cry now, you want to finish your work. Sew up that shirt, do gear upkeep. Check your licenses.
But his hold tightened. So you bury your face in his chest and just allow yourself to be held.
You both stand there for a few minutes. Quietly breathing each other in, holding on tight like some unseen force will rip you away from each other again. The memories of meeting Rafayel and the disappearance of the crew bled together. The joy and infatuation of a new love. The concern for your mentors. The gnawing fear as more and more details came out. The terror of being stalked. The constant paranoia of being followed and watched so closely. The laughter you shared jumping in puddles on a rainy day. The concern you felt finding Rafayel unconscious in his home.
You bury your face a little deeper, feeling tears begin to trickle.
"Shh, shh, cutie, hey." Rafayel murmured. He pulled back just enough to look at your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs. "Let's get you inside, yeah?" You nod, fumbling with your bag to get your keys out. You unlock the door and hurriedly step in, Rafayel hot on your heels, as you kick off your shoes and throw down your bag. Seeing their empty offices, feeling the empty hallways at the Deepspace Academy finally made it feel real to you. Rafayel slips off his shoes, following quietly as you collapse onto the couch. He sits down beside you, wordlessly opening his arms so you can hug him. You don't say a word. You don't have to.
Silent tears continue to fall as he gently caressed your hair.
Logically, you knew Rafayel was telling the truth. He had no reason to lie about this. Not in your mind. But you still feared that maybe something wasn't right. Maybe one of them just... won't come back. Maybe they're all gone for good. Seeing Dr. C shaken like that made you tighten your hold on his shirt, a silent sob shuddering out of you. Rafayel's hold remained the same. Steady, tender, holding you against his chest like the most precious work of art he could ever have.
"I've got you, cutie." He murmured against the crown of your head. "Do you want me to stay?" You can't create a response, so you just nod your head against his chest. You can hear- and feel- a soft, rumbling laugh. "Okay, okay. Clingy." His tone was full of amusement and concern. His little tease said in a breathless tone. His hand found the small of your back. Resting there as he gently caressed your hair with the other. "Do you want a hug, to talk about it, or a distraction?" You took a second to think. You wanted the hug. But you weren't ready to talk about it, you didn't want to accuse him of anything without further research anyway.
"Distraction." You murmur, still clutching at his shirt. "And hugs." He didn't make you move. He kept rubbing your back as he hummed in thought, seemingly wracking his brain for some way to distract you from your thoughts.
"Next time you visit my place, bring a swimsuit, yeah? We can go swimming together. I'd like to show you how the world looks closer to home." His hands remained steady, alternating between rubbing your back and stroking your hair. "It's gonna start getting colder soon. Cold water doesn't bother you too much, yeah? You're a trained diver, so you should be used to it." You nod your head faintly. "Good. Then we'll go swimming together, maybe have a picnic by the beach. Or I could show you how I make some of my paints, ever worn PPE?" Swimming, paint making, picnics. It might feel disjointed to someone else. But to you, you knew every word was just another attempt at finding time to spend with you.
You had to admit, his distraction was working.
Thinking of swimming by his side, or a picnic on his private stretch of the beach, or making paint with all your PPE gear on made you smile. You finally found the strength to lift your head, meeting his tender gaze.
"There you are." He murmured, head tilted with a boyish smile. "No more hiding, yeah? Did that help?"
"It did." You use your sleeve to wipe your cheeks, but he bats your hands away to do it himself. "Thanks, fishy."
"Anytime." He gently tilted your head forward to press a kiss to your forehead. You bow your head, meeting him halfway to allow it. "Want me to stay?"
"Always." You look up at him. "I'm gonna make some lunch. Want to join me in the kitchen?"
"Sure." He gently guided you off of him, since you'd been leaning on him, before standing up and pulling you with him. "Gotta refuel after all that crying. You're not getting dehydrated on me, nuh uh." It was back to normal banter with him. You knew you needed to process and properly cry, but for now you wanted to just be silly with him. You follow him to the kitchen, already planning on riling him up.
"Oh, did I ever tell you about that one time I nearly passed out from dehydration during Field School? Rough day."
"... cutie, sometimes I question if I should just lock you in my house for your own safety."
"Can't fulfill the covenant from there!"
"... I hate that you're right."
"One more!" Rafayel clung to your arms with a pout. Lunch was over. It had been filled with joking and banter, a lightheartedness you both needed after the morning you'd had. The realization about the LCMECs and Carter's presence left you both rattled, and the sudden realization of your mentors' absence left you feeling low. But you felt much lighter now. You had both agreed you had things to do, but Rafayel was dragging his feet about leaving. He pouted at your front door, clinging as he batted his eyes at you. "One more kiss!! One more, come on, please, cutie?"
"No, you have things to do! And so do I, and we can't do them in the same location." You gently give him another shove, but he doesn't budge. He blinks again, his pout only worsening.
"Pleeeeaaaseeee?? A kiss for the road! Come on, cutie, I'm like a fish on dry land without kisses!! One more!"
"You've been saying one more for the past ten!" You put your hands on your hips in faux exasperation. "Okay. One more. One. Then you need to go. Promise?" He straightens up, practically glowing from his victory.
"Promise! One and I'll go. On the lips. Not the cheek." He leans in, a victorious grin on his face as he impatiently waits for his prize. That night at the operahouse opened the floodgates, so now the cheeky artist demands as many kisses as he can get.
"You'll look like Reddie if you keep your lips puckered like that all the time." You tease. Before his pucker can turn back into a pout, you press your lips to his. Raf momentarily spluttered, but grabbed your arms to pull you close instead. You don't pull back too fast. Just keeping your lips on his to savor the moment. It wasn't really a goodbye kiss, just a 'see you later'. But his warm, soft lips melded against yours so perfectly. His touch so sweet and tender, his body fitting against yours like two wholes snapping into place to reveal an even bigger picture. Pieces made to exist on their own- but complement the other perfectly when together.
You pull back slowly, allowing him to give chase for a couple more pecks, before gently nudging his shoulder. "Come on, that's enough. Didn't you say you wanted to get some sketches ready for the collaboration?"
"I don't want to. But I do have ideas..."
"Then strike while the inspiration is hot." You finally manage to escape him. His pout returns, this time more subtle and real than his exaggerated ones from earlier. But he did agree, as seen by him putting his shoes on. He's muttering something under his breath but you choose to ignore it. You press one more kiss to his cheek as he grabs his things.
"See you later, cutie. Call me before you go to bed?"
"Of course." You agree. With that, he kisses your head one last time before leaving. Once you hear the door shut you turn back to your apartment. You do have things you need to do, and you'll have something to drink with some show to make yourself cry and get it out of your system. You were glad you got to start it with Rafayel present, but you needed to let it all out.
You step into your room to survey what you wanted to do first. You did need to do gear upkeep, fix up that shirt... well, the shirt needed another dose of hydrogen peroxide so you decided to start there. You take the sun shirt out of where you had been storing it before pittering around your apartment to get what you needed to let it soak. You also just needed to clean it first. Your mind wanders as you begin this mundane task, and you pause as you enter your bedroom again with the shirt in hand.
Your conspiracy corkboard still sat there. No new updates just yet.
But after this morning? You have one.
LCMECs.
You look at the shirt again before resuming your task. You set up a place for it to soak, spraying it down with the hydrogen peroxide and scrubbing off the blood before leaving the shirt to soak in some soapy water. While it soaks you return to the corkboard. You grab a sticky note and a pen, simply scribbling the abbreviation before adding it to EVER's section. Rafayel has now seen the board himself, and seemingly either approved or just didn't have anything to say about it at the time.
The web continued to grow. Every time you were with Rafayel, you'd find something else. Or Rafayel himself would reveal it.
It all goes back to him somehow.
The mental image of standing there, staring at the board as you hugged Rafayel tightly appeared before you. You shut your eyes. Reliving that moment as your brain went haywire while holding him tight. You knew it. You knew it. You knew the connection between the Sea Monster Murders, Verona, opera, Rafayel's build, and the murdered scientists. His proficiency in following you. Keeping track of you without even thinking. All of it took you back to the same exact conclusion. After all, it all goes back to him.
Rafayel is Mo.
It makes sense. Raf's advice to remove yourself from the excavation, how he kept popping up in similar places. How he immediately befriended both you and Dr. C. His vaguely threatening yet cautioning words during his Ebb day. His hostility towards EVER and Raymond.
You rub your face, sighing as the pieces slowly fall into place. You'd already thought of it. But your focus was on comforting your lover, not accusing him. Besides. The introduction of the LCMECs changed everything. You knew things were bad. But not that downright horrific.
No wonder why he's like this. But you don't want to accuse him of anything. You're a team. Desperate times call for desperate measures, but that doesn't mean you should waltz up to your boyfriend and ask if he's a vigilante serial killer targeting the scientific community. No, scratch that, calling those bastards scientists is an offense of the highest margin to anyone who works within the field.
You grab your phone off your desk. You need to get the story straight. You don't want to assume or jump to conclusions. You need to get as much information as you can before you ask Rafayel to clarify. Raf had already admitted to having a hand in Raymond's death- but he never confirmed if he was the one who killed him. The metaflux prompted hallucinations! Not death. You press on Thomas' contact info and put the phone to your ear. Staring your corkboard down as he picked up. Thomas called your name when he picked up, clearly surprised.
"What're you doing calling me? Is everything okay?"
"Everything's fine, Thomas, I just had a question." You prop a hand on your hip. You'd spent days trying to find anything about Rafayel's past. He'd admitted to having some history singing, but you couldn't find anything about it. No gossip pages, interviews, nothing. He always dodged questions about his past. And he only drip-feeds you information, too. "Rafayel was mentioning going to work on some sketches for the collaboration with that perfume house. I was trying to think of prompts or ways to help inspire him. Do you know what he was up to before he came to Linkon? We were talking about scent and memory, so something that'll trigger a memory for him might be fitting. Y'know?"
Thomas lets out a heavy sigh on his end. "Nice try. I'm not talking about his past. You're his partner, just ask him."
Damn it. It's your turn to sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Do you think I'd be asking you if he'd tell me himself? I agree with you, really, but Rafayel does see you as a friend. And he won't tell me about these things. I'm just trying to help."
Thomas was quiet for a beat. You know the call didn't drop, but you allow him a moment to think. Your eyes scan over every connecting thread, every bit of info you've pieced together. You agreed to help Rafayel protect Lemuria, but you can't do that without additional information. You need to know what's expected of you. And you need to know how to move forward. Rafayel himself had asked you how far you were willing to go.
Before you answer that, you need to know how far he's already gone.
"He hasn't told me." Thomas's voice breaks you out of your thoughts again. His voice was quiet. Unsure. A hint of hesitation in his tone. "I think of him as my friend, too. That's why I offered to handle all the business stuff on his behalf, I know he hates it. But we don't really talk about our pasts. I've asked before, if he went to any university or took classes or something. He always dodges my questions and turns the questions around. I wish I knew more."
You do find yourself smiling, sympathetic. "He's a tough one to crack. He's more private than people think."
"He is. But he's a good man. He really is."
"I don't doubt that for a moment. His heart's in the right place."
"It is. It's with you."
Thomas's earnest tone of voice caught you off-guard. You were used to him being playful, or chastising, or mildly exhausted. But this softness in his voice was new. Something you assumed he saved for his wife and baby girl. Hearing that softness directed towards your relationship with Rafayel made your cheeks get warm. You lift your free hand, touching your warm cheek as you nervously laugh.
"That's sweet, thanks, Thomas."
"Wish I knew more, but honestly you should be asking Rafayel. He might not tell you everything all at once, but he's probably got his reasons." Thomas chuckled on his end of the line. You weren't hiding your flustered reaction all that well. "Talk to him. He's more likely to tell you than me, anyway."
"Thanks anyway, Thomas. I appreciate it. Worth a shot." You shrug, mentally wracking your brain for anyone else you could call. Rafayel didn't really have all that many human friends. He preferred his own company when it came to humanity. Given what you knew, you could completely understand. But who else was there? It immediately hits you.
Duh. Other Lemurians.
But who would be willing to talk to you?
You just wanted to make sure you approached Rafayel with as much context as possible. Nothing accusatory. But you can't exactly call someone up and say 'hey by the way you don't know me but was your buddy a serial killer a couple years back?' You hear a giggle on the other side of the line, and it snaps you out of it. You smile a bit. "Seriously. Thanks, Thomas. Sorry to bother you."
"Never a bother." Thomas immediately disagreed. "What are you doing up? You're supposed to be sleeping!" Thomas chuckled. You could tell he was cooing at his child, so you knew it was time to wrap it up.
"Thanks again. I'll ask Rafayel at some point, next time I see him."
"Hope the excavation prep goes well. Good luck." With that you hang up, but end up searching for a different phone number. After the end of the opera, when Rafayel stayed the night with you, he ended up sharing Talia's phone number with you in case you two wanted to chat. It was an open invitation, and now was a good time to accept it. You aimlessly wander towards the basin where your sun shirt was soaking. Taking a good luck at it as the phone rang. Thankfully the blood stains came out with the hydrogen peroxide, but now you're going to need to scrub the dirt stains off. Then sew up the holes once you let it dry.
"Hello!" Talia's musical voice greeted you before you could get lost in thought again. The pure joy in her voice brought another smile to your voice.
"Auntie! It's good to hear your voice."
"Good to hear from you, as well. I was hoping you would take me up on my offer. Will you be in Verona anytime soon?" There was a pure giddiness to her voice, tempered by her years of life and level-headed maturity. But for a moment you could practically hear the beam on her face.
"I'm sorry, auntie, but that isn't why I'm calling. I'll happily let you know next time I'm there. But I do have a question about Verona."
"Oh? But of course. What is it?"
"Well... it's also a question about Rafayel."
"Now, now. If you have a question about him you ought to ask him yourself." There was no scolding in her tone, not even an ounce of disapproval. But you knew you were being a bit underhanded. You rub the back of your neck with a sheepish expression, one she can't see. "But perhaps I can answer. What is it?"
"I was just..." Your eyes dart around the room before falling on your corkboard again. Verona. Sea Monster Murders. Rafayel. You need to know. You need to be sure. "There was... something that happened this morning. At the meeting for the Lemurian excavation."
"... oh?"
With her intrigue, you continue. "It shook Rafayel up a bit." You add slowly. Did she know about the LCMECs? You didn't wish to shock, terrify, or concern her. "I just... I didn't know how to ask him about it. But I'm slowly gathering that some things were going on with him back in Verona. I know you were his opera coach for a while, and you're his aunt, so..." You sigh. "I don't mean to pry. Really. But if something happened to Rafayel or with him in Verona, something that's impacting him now, I want to know so I know how to help him. He was just... so out of it this morning, I-"
"I think I know what you're referring to." Talia's voice, though melodious, slipped into a quieter tone. The music left her for a moment. She spoke quietly. Solemnly. "I am not at liberty to say. But I believe I know what you mean. It was a dark time in his life, one where he slipped deeper than he should." Her words were cryptic. Your brows furrow as you stare at the corkboard. A dark time? Rafayel slipped deeper than he should? It wasn't explicit. But it made you lean towards confirmation.
"I don't mean to pry, really, and I don't want you to betray his trust." You respond. "I just... I want to help him. I do. I made him a promise to help him protect Lemuria, but I can't do that without context. I want to protect him too. I... I just-"
"You love him." Talia finished the thought. The word was stuck in your throat. But she was right. He wouldn't be your boyfriend if you didn't, after all. You swallow, wanting to agree, but Talia spoke again. "I understand. I know you do not want to betray his confidence, and you would not ask me to do so either. I cannot tell you everything. But I will speak to him. I agree, he needs to be honest with you if he expects you to work together." Talia released a quiet sigh, something you'd easily miss if you weren't so intently focused on what she had to say. "I make no promises, but I'll speak to him."
"You don't need to, but thank you, auntie." You sit down a little heavier than usual on a chair. That was as close to confirmation you were going to get. Dark time. Slipping deeper. What did she mean by that? You could only imagine it meant exactly what you thought. So focused on revenge and protecting the few Lemurians left, mourning and angry... He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. But why? Why was he so intent on being the one to do it all, alone?
You inwardly scoff at yourself. No, you know exactly why he'd do it alone.
Stubbornness. Pride. Obligation. Responsibility.
Besides, you were one to talk. He had just been chewing you out about being stubborn and not asking for help not too long ago. You could sympathize. He was probably so irate because he was speaking from experience. You rub your face again- you're probably gonna rub your skin raw with how much you do it- before switching to fiddle with your necklace.
"Is there anything specific you can tell me about it? Any way I can help him?"
"I'll need to speak with him first. He's a stubborn boy, he thinks the world rests on his shoulders alone. But it doesn't. Not when he has us. His family. You."
This was the second time now someone close to him acknowledged you and your role in his life. You laugh a bit. Amused, embarrassed, and surprised all at once. "Thomas said something about that, too. You've all been too good to me."
"Oh? What did he say?"
"I mentioned something about Rafayel having a good heart in the right place, and he said it was 'cause it was with me."
You can only assume Talia took a sip of some tea or drink since you hear an immediate gasp and a soft splutter. Something so out of character for her you momentarily think someone else is with her. But her soft voice came through once more. She cleared her throat.
"I... how fitting. He is right."
"Oh not you, too." You laugh, leaning your head back to look at the ceiling. "You're making me feel bad, auntie. I'm not trying to be a snoop, but here you both are saying stuff like that."
"No, no, I understand. You're just trying to understand Rafayel. You want to help." You hear a soft rustle. You can only imagine she's gently dabbing at her face after her initial shock. "I have to go, I'm afraid. But please, call again, dear. And please come to Verona soon, I must speak with you more in person."
"Of course, auntie."
"Be good. Take care of my Rafayel, won't you? I know he always takes care of you."
"Always, auntie." With farewells out of the way, you hang up. You stay in your same spot, staring at the ceiling. You had prep to do. You had a long overdue cry. Maybe a good scream into a pillow, too. Talia all but confirmed it after all. You'd already known, but you didn't want to accept it.
Now, however?
Now you know. Now you understand.
You snatch your pillow off your bed and slam it over your face to scream into it. You do love Rafayel. But what have you signed yourself up for?
To whomever it may concern,
The Lemurian Excavation will progress upon confirmation per international water authorities. Please await further instruction.
You read and reread the short email over and over again. The lack of additional detail tells you everything you need to know. Things weren't going well from the administrative position. It doesn't surprise you. Aquatic Wanderers, international waters, permits, licenses, the Hunter's Association, the Evol Police... even while trying to keep this under wraps, there were still so many moving pieces. You can only imagine the headache it was giving Margie, Dr. C, and Dr. Chen. Not to mention the rest of the Deepspace Academy and committee.
You lean back in your chair with a heavy sigh. No forward motion. It felt like everything was suspended in time. Stuck in a red tape limbo.
But you had made good use of your time. You'd been researching. Looking at the databases of Lemurian artifacts. Some of the oldest transcripts and their original, shoddy translations. And, of course, looking at information about the Sea Monster Murders.
That was a separate project. You'd learned your lesson after the whole metacarpal situation. You needed to speak to Rafayel about it as soon as possible. Admittedly, you weren't as upset about this one. Your initial frustration that time was the fact he went behind your back and easily could have gotten others in harm's way. Hell, he did the right thing. You just wished he'd include you.
This? Was different.
It was before you met. And, clearly, deserved. An eye for an eye, blood for blood. But most importantly, it looked like self defense. An act of protecting himself and his kind. The more you found out about EVER the more your initial distaste turned into a vehement disgust. LCMECS? Gods, it was worse than you ever could have imagined. The EVER homepage illuminated your face. Their slogan and the abbreviation were highlighted. EVER: Eternity Vanquishes Evolution Restraint. You can't help it, you roll your eyes every time you see their stupid name. Eternal life. That's what they're really after. Life after death and eternal life, immortality, had been topics as old as humanity itself. One of the oldest stories in the world is focused on it.
Your phone buzzed. You glance over and see Rafayel's contact photo. That same goofy pic of him making a face at Reddie. You scoff a laugh, already standing up. You grab your things, shrugging on a coat and slipping on your shoes as you open the text.
Rafy <3: cutieeeeeeeeeee
Rafy <3: save meeeeeee
Me: What is it now, fishy?
Rafy <3: im bored :(
Me: And how am I supposed to come save you from that?
Rafy <3: come overrrrrrrrr
Rafy <3: im working on the collab thingy
Rafy <3: i need my muse :(
His explicit confirmation that he sees you as his muse made you momentarily flush, but you can't drop the banter now. You make sure you have what you need before you head out.
Me: Okay, okay. I'm on my way!
Rafy <3: :D
Rafy <3: c u soon cutieeeee muah muah
Rafayel had vanished for a few days. You didn't bat an eye- he always does that when he's struck with inspiration. As much as he'd been complaining and fussing about this collaboration he was actually pretty excited about it. He had been working hard on the paintings he wanted to submit for it. Knowing most people, the company would be delighted with anything Rafayel came up with. But since a portion of proceeds were going to a charity group of his choice he was putting a lot of time and effort into it.
You had become accustomed to the trip over to Whitesand. Walking to the bus stop. Hopping on. Enjoying the scenic route, before being dropped off. Taking the walk from the bus stop to Rafayel's private area. He had offered to drive to meet you several times, but there was a beauty to the walk. Plus you could keep your eyes peeled for any odd people or behavior. Raf was a bit too lax with his own security for your tastes, but knowing what you know now you're honestly not surprised anymore.
The gate creaks open with only the slightest nudge. You close it behind you for your own peace of mind before bounding up the stairs to the front. You knock for courtesy's sake, before pushing the door open.
Rafayel's "creative chaos" greeted you as it always did. Art supplies haphazardly strewn across the floor, half-filled canvases stacked against the walls, a statue with fin-like ear pieces covered by an old tarp. And in the center of it all was the true masterpiece himself. Rafayel. In spite of his complaints over text, he was hard at work. A focused expression on his face with every stroke of his paintbrush. You don't sneak up on him. You go and greet Reddie first, smiling as the fish flit about in his tank before turning back to Rafayel.
"For someone saying he's bored, you look pretty in the zone."
Your voice broke him out of his reverie, and he turned to look at you over his shoulder. "Knowing you'd be coming put me in a good mood, so I became more inspired." He shrugged, but something about the way he said it made you doubt him. You walk closer, dodging messes and crumpled papers as you moved to his ladder.
"For some reason I don't believe you." You cross your arms over your chest as you look up at him. He averts his eyes.
"Oh come on cutie! You know me-"
"Yes I do. So spill it."
Rafayel's hand stilled. He thought for a moment before his shoulders slumped. Defeated. "... Hannah asked me to translate some documents. I don't wanna." You just laugh.
"Procrastinating again? I guess it's not the worst thing since you're not procrastinating on this other project." You peer at the artwork again. As usual, the work doesn't picture any humanoid figures. It's scenic. A beautiful ocean scene. The painting itself showed the ocean, some city in the distant background. Seaweed danced under beams of moonlight, the color of the underwater world as bright as jewels. "What kinds of documents?"
"Just some stuff that had been poorly translated. Eleanor had notes about wanting to redo them, but never got the chance. So Hannah asked me." Rafayel shrugged. He dipped his brush back into his palette, brushing off excess before going over the details. "I'm gonna get to it, but... I don't wanna right now. Besides. I think they were, like, fairytales anyway. Not useful stuff for this dig."
"Well, you're only half right." You scoot some art supplies off the corner of the couch so you can sit down. You had a front row seat to Rafayel's artistry. And it gave you a chance to catch up with him. "Finding out about old stories, myths, fairytales... they can help us understand the broader beliefs of a society. What's taboo, what's considered normal, the values that were important. They can also give us hints to everyday life. Fictional stories still are reflections of the society they were conceived in. Sometimes they're explanatory stories, like why people die and where they go. Sometimes they're supposed to teach a lesson. And sometimes they were just fun stories to tell. It still gives us the opportunity to learn something new."
Rafayel's brushstrokes paused for a moment. He thought to himself before nodding his head. "Okay, fair point. I'll read through those documents later. If it's a story I recognize I'll let you know."
"What kinds of stories do you recall off the top of your head?"
"Oh you know, your typical romantic stuff, horror stories about the surface world to make sure kids stay close to the cities, adventure stories, stories about the Sea God or the God of Tides."
You settle on the couch, curling up in the corner as he listed the stories out. It sounded about right, those were the kids of stories you read in the Lemurian Legends book. "Think any of those stories might be something featured in the Lemurian Legends book?"
Rafayel looked over his shoulder at you again. "Probably not. These stories looked a lot older than those. Like... older than me."
"You're 24." You snickered. "That's not saying much to someone who studies the ancient past, dude."
Rafayel rolled his eyes at you. "Come ooon, we've already talked about this, whole 'memories of past lives' thing." He turned so he could give you a sassy look, one hand on his hip. "I'm shocked you actually believed me. Because of the whole... dunno, scientist thing?"
"I'll remind you that I'm sitting here talking to a literal merman who partially transformed in front of me. I can suspend my disbelief."
"... touche."
"Actually." You think about it for a moment. EVER. What did it want with Lemurians anyway? He mentioned something about the blood and immortality, but you didn't press at the time. He seemed to be in an okay place, so you scoot further on the edge of the couch to be closer to him. "Think you're cool talking about what the hell EVER was doing to Lemurians? I was doing some more research on them and I want to make sure I'm on the same page with you. I mean... you just called me over to hang out, but-"
"No, no. We don't want another bone incident." Rafayel cleaned his brush off. His shoulders tensed, but his tone was level. "Ask away, I'll tell you what I can."
"Just the question I just asked. What the hell does EVER want with Lemurians, anyway?"
Rafayel set his paintbrush down. He began to put away his supplies, taking his time to think about his answer before he responded. The sunlight coated him in warmth, illuminating that simple white shirt he wore so often. Black pants, no shoes. Something simple for working at home. And yet he always looked so damn good. "You know what the abbreviation stands for, right?" You hum a confirmation. "Eternity vanquishes evolution restraint. The end goal is to extend human lifetimes, to the point of immortality and eternal youth. On top of other things." He climbed down his ladder. Speaking in a low tone of voice with every movement. "Lemurian blood is rumored to have properties that slow aging."
"Are they true?"
"You've met my aunt." Rafayel approached the couch where you were sitting. He grabbed a random cloth off the table and used it to clean his hands from any additional paint. With that, he brushed aside the mess on the couch and sat beside you. "She's not in her twenties, I can tell you that."
"Point taken." You nod slowly. "So... is that what the LCMECs are, then?"
"I think so." Rafayel leaned against the back of his couch. He dragged his hand over his face and through his hair. The way he was lounging revealed more of the moles decorating his body, a constellation of targets to plant kisses or wandering hands. Another time, now is the time to be serious. "Raymond was obsessed with staying young and wanting to be immortalized. He was in communication with EVER before his death."
You scoff to yourself. You already didn't like the man because of how he spoke to Rafayel, but every piece of information you learned about the man just made you hate him more and more. "Eternal life and immortalization, huh? Sounds like he ignored the lessons of some of the oldest stories out there."
"Oh?" Rafayel cocked his head. "Enlighten me."
"The Epic of Gilgamesh."
Rafayel immediately chuckled. "Okay, should've seen that one coming. The one who likes Sumerian history likes Gilgamesh, big surprise."
"Listen, I'm pretty easy to please." You join him in his laughter. He had a point. He reached around you, pulling you into his side as you settled into him to continue your conversation. "One of my biggest takeaways from the story is that death is inevitable, but that immortality comes through remembering those we love. We can't live forever. But we can live lives worth remembering. That is our eternity. That is our immortality."
"Nice try, but the kind of people who run EVER won't buy into that." Rafayel shook his head, but hugged you a little closer anyway. "I don't disagree, but they hold the cards. For now. They buy off juries and judges, bribe law enforcement, they control the OTTOs and the cameras in the cities, they have remote access to tech, they've absorbed a medical group, destroyed an entire region and got away with it... They've gotten away with much worse." His hand settled on your waist. Grounding both you and himself in the weight of the conversation. "Immortality is through love. Yes, memory. But more importantly? Love. Love is the force to immortalize people, places, things. Gilgamesh loved Enkidu. So he gave the rest of the world a reason to remember Enkidu's name."
You lean on him in return. You rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart as you form your response. "That's a part of the reason why I love my job." You shut your eyes. You can envision it now. "It's a privilege to do what I do. It's a privilege to have even a moment to breathe life into these people, into their stories, so they can be remembered. But that doesn't mean it's all perfect." The image of that skeletal hand reaching out to grab you flashed into your mind. But instead of fear, an overwhelming sadness struck you. "No one should own another person's remains. No one. Did..." You lift your head to look at him, eyebrows furrowed. "Did anything come of those remains at Raymond's...?"
Rafayel's eyebrows were furrowed as well. A faraway look in his eye as he pressed his lips together. "I agree, cutie. But no. Not yet." He lifted his hand to gently cradle the back of your head, holding it in place so he could press his lips to the crown of your head. "I'm gonna find a way to get them back. To return her to her home. Where she belongs."
She.
You take a shuddering breath. The wind knocked out of you for a moment. So it was someone he knew. You adjust how you're sitting, wrapping your arms around him in a comforting hold. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Last time I did something like this we had a big argument. I should probably leave you out of it." He laughed, trying to brush off the weight of the conversation, but the look on your face gave him pause.
"No. I'm in too deep now." You sit up a little straighter, still holding him tight. "Lying and gaslighting your romantic partner is still a no-go, so don't try that shit again. But repatriation of remains? That's a part of the job. You wanted me to help. So I'm going to." Rafayel, momentarily, seemed taken aback. His mouth hung slightly open as he looked at you. Taking it in. Watching your face to see if you were telling him the truth. But as you held his gaze he finally laughed again. A genuine laugh of disbelief. He cards his fingers through his hair again, sitting back and staring at you as you sit there.
"Are you really saying you're willing to help me steal back the remains?"
"I may not have experience in it like you do. But underhanded repatriation is repatriation nonetheless." You lean forward, gently bonking your forehead on his. "She deserves it." Rafayel immediately shut his eyes and nuzzled in response.
"She does." He laughed again. Softer, more melancholy. "She really, really does. She deserves to be remembered. She deserves to go home."
"Then we'll get her there. I promise. Tell me a story about her sometime?"
"Gladly." Rafayel pecked your lips. He gently grabbed you and shifted you off of him. It seemed the conversation had given him a new vigor. He grabbed a tube of paint off a cabinet. He looked a the label in the lighting before opening it. "Come over here, cutie, you gave me an idea."
"Well," You push off of the couch, slowly strolling over to him as you eye the tube of paint. "You said it yourself, I'm your muse, so you'd hope I'd give you ideas." Rafayel grabbed a paintbrush off the nearest piece of furniture. He started with his own hand, painting his hand until it was all a vivid blue. He extended the paintbrush, and you quickly catch on. So you roll up a sleeve and offer him your hand. He takes it and gingerly paints your hand the same shade of blue.
"Even if we can't live forever," Rafayel set down the brush. He walked to the back of the easel, where there was plenty of blank room on the back. "We can leave something behind for people to find." You follow him and kneel down to where he was crouching. He reached out his hand, so you do the same. With a clean hand steadying the easel, you two press your hands against the back. Two handprints, side by side, pressed against the surface.
The handprints themselves were art. Art interpreters all over would come to different conclusions. Perhaps it was a statement against AI- on the inherent humanity behind art? Perhaps a new form of signature to avoid plagiarism? Maybe a statement on whether or not this was his favorite piece.
But you two would know the truth.
The handprints said three things.
We were here.
We are here together.
We are worth remembering.
The sunlight streams into the room, illuminating everything in warm tones. You hop on one foot as you struggle to tug on a sock, hurriedly looking at the time over and over. How time flew by this fast was beyond you. Your paper calendar reflected the light with its glossy paper, the current day circled over and over in red. It was the unveiling of the perfume collaboration!
The past few weeks had flown by. Helping Rafayel by transcribing his translation, swinging by the Deepspace Academy to continue going through old notes, etc. The good news was that with every passing week another piece of red tape was cut away. The Hunter's Association had cleared the area for excavation. No metaflux. The Evol Police had stepped back from the investigation. And there were more and more financial backers offering to donate within the small circle that had been established. You yank the sock up your leg and scramble to finish getting ready. Rafayel had already texted you that he'd meet you at the exhibit a few days ago, so you would get there alone for the moment. In the last few days before the exhibit he's grown distant. Probably just avoiding the exhibit at all. He did mention something about ignoring Thomas, though you elected to ignore that as well. Something about you needing to be on his side, too.
He loved creating. He loved community.
But he loathed attending these exhibits.
You could understand. The air of insufferability made you both choke. As much as you loved Thomas, the art aficionado crowd he aimed for wasn't necessarily your favorite group of people. But hey, they paid premium prices for Raf's work. So Thomas did his job well. You grab the necklace Rafayel had given you and put it on, before looking in the mirror. You were leaning more into the bodyguard angle, so you were dressed formally with clothes you could move around in. For good measure, you kept your blade on you somewhere. Just in case. You straighten your top one last time before grabbing your bag. With that, you text Rafayel that you're on your way, and head out.
Your formal shoes click satisfyingly against the floor and stairs. You're off to White Sand for the exhibit. So you'd take the same route you always did. Rafayel mentioned bringing his car for a quick getaway in case you both got accosted again. You knew Thomas would want you there as long as possible, but you secretly agreed to help cover Rafayel's getaway if you both decided to call it quits.
You settle on the bus, your bag to your side, as you look out the window. It's the same ride as always, and the weather is still fair enough for you to walk to and from. As weather worsens with the incoming fall and winter you'll have to figure something else out. But for now, you enjoy the ride in silence.
Your phone lights up. You look at the screen and find a text message from Dr. C.
Dr. C: Good news! We just got the last of the permits to begin the excavation!
Me: No way!!!!!!
Me: That's great! Got a timeline for when we'll start?
Dr. C: Not yet. The committee and I need to speak about it
Dr. C: We may need to wait depending on weather forecasts with the change of seasons.
Dr. C: Better you than me. You know I hate cold weather digs, brrr
Me: Says the one who doesn't feel at home if she doesn't have sweat, dirt, and bug bites all over her
Dr. C: True, true
Dr. C: We'll be sending out emails soon enough, just hoped you'd pass it along to Raf
Dr. C: He hasn't responded to my texts or emails recently...
Me: Oh don't worry
Me: He has an exhibit today so he's been a little avoidant
Dr. C: Ahhhh I see
Dr. C: Tell him I said hi, have a good time!
Me: Will do!
You turn your phone off and put it in your pocket with the end of the text chain. It honestly didn't surprise you Rafayel had dropped off the map, he was probably trying to figure out a way to ditch last second. Even the promise of a charitable donation to a group of his choice couldn't keep him from trying to ditch. You'd hoped he would be at the exhibit already, like he said he'd be, but the more you think about it the more you wonder if you should swing by his place first.
But the bus stops. It's much closer to just walk to the gallery itself first to check. You grab your bag and hop off, making your way to the same gallery as always. It was beautifully decorated, and as you walk in you're taken aback. You'd already seen one of the art pieces he prepared, but the other two were new to you. You walk up to them, eyes wide and mouth agape. You hope you never tire of seeing his art like this. Otherworldly, ethereal, pure mastery on display. In front of each painting there was a small stand with a bottle of perfume. There was a small sign underneath with the name of the perfume and the scent notes, as well as how the perfume developer was inspired by the art.
You slowly walk towards the back office, admiring the decorations. There were plates of hors d'oeuvres and glasses of champagne being prepared. Pieces of paper to sample the perfume on. You pop your head into the office and, to your chagrin, it was empty. There were a few supplies scattered around, but no Rafayel. You step in, curiously looking around as you find a handful of other bottles of the perfume. The bottles themselves were gorgeous. Glass, beautifully sculpted. One was clearly marked SAMPLE in big, bold letters. But a note right beside it said two samples had been sent for each of the collab perfumes just in case something broke in transit.
You pick it up, uncapping it to give it a whiff. It was startlingly bitter at first, making you cough. But you spritz it on a piece of paper and wave it around. Maybe it would settle. After a few seconds you take another test, and it was much better. The bitterness melted into a sweet, almost delicate scent. Hints of oceanwater and salt, and maybe something acidic or tart to cut through it all. You hesitantly roll up your sleeve and try it on skin. You wave your wrist around and then test it. As it melded with your skin chemistry it leaned more into the sweeter notes, with the bitter and acidic notes acting as support.
You liked it. You try it on your neck as well, pleasantly surprised by how it settled. You set it back down, waving a hand over your neck to help it dry down. It was nice, not too overpowering. No one would smell you from across the room. Maybe you should look into this company. You weren't Yennifer, but perhaps a nice perfume or cologne for date nights out would be a fun splurge.
You hear rapid footsteps behind you, approaching the office, so you turn to find a very flustered Thomas rushing over.
"I haven't been able to contact Rafayel for three days now!" Thomas said it all at once in a rush. Face red, hair wild, eyes wide. While flustered, he seemed relieved at the sight of you. He let out a big sigh, tension all over him. You glance to the side and find other staff looking worried as well.
"You haven't been able to contact him?"
"He said he was going to sequester himself at home three days ago. I thought he would at least show up today, but.." Thomas ran his fingers through his hair before turning back to you. "I'm counting on you to make sure he's here. It's important because-"
"I know, I know. World famous brand, amazing opportunity, I was with Rafayel when you called about it." You put your hands up, stopping him in his tracks. "Last I spoke with him we were discussing our plans to meet here. So he was intending on being here as of a few days ago... he's ignoring Dr. Capek, too."
"Just... get him here. I don't care how. Get him here." Thomas flailed his hands in exasperation, but you keep your hands up.
"I'll go to his place. Maybe you should sit down, have some tea." You gently put your hand on his shoulders and nudge him to the back office. "Relax. I'll get Rafayel here, I promise." (where should interacting with the perfume itself go?)
With Thomas seated, muttering to himself about the things he does for his friend, you turn and bolt back out the front. Dodging exhibit workers and curious onlookers outside all the same. Typically the walk through Whitesand to Rafayel's place was leisurely, nice. A moment to yourself before the beautiful chaos of spending time with him. But you're bolting it down the sidewalk. Rafayel did try to ditch his exhibits, you knew that well, but why would he be adamant about not coming to this one?
You bob and weave through people, apologizing as you move past. It was moments like these you did wish you could just drive over, but with growing congestion on the roads you figured making a jog out of it was your best bet. You just hope you don't get all sweaty while doing it. With only four hours until the exhibit begins, you have to make sure Rafayel is okay and drag him there. Even if he's kicking and screaming.
You slow down as you approach his private area. You take a second to catch your breath while pulling out your phone. You try to call him, but he doesn't pick up. You call again as you make the walk to the front door, past the gate. Then, you knock on the door. No answer to any of the above. Honestly, it was to be expected. And worst of all? The door was locked. The one time he takes your advice is to keep you out.
"Fitting." You dryly grumble. But, you had a secret weapon. After all, you two had been together for a few months now. So you pull out the extra key he'd given you, a just in case for another Ebb day sort of situation. The door unlocks with ease, so you put the key back in your bag where it belongs. It's pitch black when you walk in, and the curtains are drawn tight. You couldn't hear anything except for your own breathing.
Oh. Oh he's trying to hide.
"Rafayel. I know you're home." You cross your arms over your chest, clear disapproval in your tone. No response. You march over to the windows and toss open the curtains. With light, you finally see the empty can of soda on the ground. Among his typical mess. You blink. Oh he really is trying to hide from you, isn't he? But two can play at that game. You walk to another part of the room, eyebrows furrowed. "He's not home...?" You mutter. You then go to his bedroom and see the outline of a figure in bed. You creep in, eyes narrowed in suspicion as you grab the blanket. You doubted he was under there. You tug, and find two pillows stacked on top of each other. Classic. "He should've been up by now..." You toss the pillows to the correct end of the bed and drape the blanket back on the end of the bed. You dust off your hands. "Oh. Must be getting breakfast." You shrug to yourself, walking back to the living room and silently take off your shoes. You open and shut the front door, before scurrying back to the bathroom silently in your socked feet. You hide and shut the door ever so slightly, grateful it doesn't creak. Footsteps from another part of the house slowly creep forward, until Rafayel stands in the living room.
"They fell for it?" He muttered in shock. You silently snort. Did he really think that was gonna work? Rafayel was clearly smiling, proud of his little trick. "It's actually cute given how silly it all was." You'd have to give it to him, it was silly. Rafayel turns to the front door and creeps over, checking the peephole. "No ambushes..." He muttered, skeptically looking around the entryway. You silently slide out of the bathroom and tiptoe closer. With only socks on you have more stealth. You silently set the shoes down and trade it for a tie draped over the couch. You were lucky he was so messy, you had plenty of ammunition lying around.
The "innocent" Lemurian stands there, unknowing and vulnerable as his greatest predator- his beloved- slowly slinks up behind him. Before he could realize it he was ensnared! He gasped sharply as you hug him from behind, one arm around his neck as the other tightened the tie around his wrists. He squirmed, but the simple slip knot held with your other hand holding it tight.
"Gotcha, fishy." You grin, pleased with your own little trick. Though you did acknowledge that was way too easy. He was probably playing along.
He squirms again. "Hey, hey, wait!" But you don't listen. You drag him over to the couch and nudge him to sit down. He looked to the side and saw your shoes and bag. Upon seeing them he stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. He propped his tied hands on his knees and dropped his chin to his hands. "It's not fair, you're not playing by the rules."
"This is called misdirecting." You still smile over your victory, one hand on your hip with the other on the tie. "Your little tricks don't stand a chance against me." You lean in and tap his nose. "It's almost like I know you by now."
"Hold on, how did you get in? I thought I changed the passcode on the door..." He looked away, still pouting at his defeat. He looked back at you with a new scowl. "Did you use a codebreaker, or something?"
You blink at him. "Who do you think I am, Lara Croft? You watch too many movies. Have you forgotten there's something else that can open doors? I don't know... like a key?" You gesture over to your bag, where the key sits on your keyring. He looks over, his scowl deepening.
"Release me!" He demanded, but you just take the chance to tie a proper knot. He didn't seem keen on obeying, so it looked like you needed to be a little underhanded in return. "Besides, that's the key to my house! You should return it to its rightful owner." He squirmed again. "The idea of using that key to suddenly appear in my home is nothing short of terrifying. What if I'm taking a bath, or in the middle of my work? You'd be disrupting-"
You let go of his hands and go to your bag. He sits nicely as you take the key off the clip, before bringing it over and sliding it between his two hands. You smile sweetly, even. "You're right. It needs to go back to its rightful owner. I'm not a thief." Rafayel's shoulders slump, and he sighs.
"I didn't say you have to return it right this moment..." He muttered. "If you want to keep it, I'm okay with that. I'll leave it with you for safekeeping, just in case I forget my passcode one day and can't get in." You don't bother hiding your smile, taking the key right back and putting it in your pocket. You knew he was just being dramatic. "Anyway... Thomas sent you, didn't he? I don't care, I'm not going!" He tossed his head to the side indignantly. "Didn't we agree two days ago to ignore his requests? Why are you here to persuade me on his behalf?"
"First off, there was no 'we'." You put your hands on your hips, still standing over him. "It was all you. I certainly didn't agree."
"So you want the we to be you and Thomas? Why are you taking his side and running his errands..." He grumbled. He grabs a pillow and hugs it to his chest, shaking his head and clicking his tongue at you. You sigh, pinching the bride of your nose.
"Raf. Baby. Sweetheart. Darling. Thomas is married, and I know you didn't mean it like that but maybe don't say it like that." You drop your hand. "Thomas said this exhibit was very important. And besides, idn't having a co-branded perfume for your painting really interesting? Beyond that, the donation they're making was a nice bonus. I thought you liked this one."
"Yes, it's very interesting. And the perfumer is skilled, too. That's why my presence won't make a difference to the exhibition." Rafayel insisted, half determined and half pleading for you to agree with him.
"You're right, it won't." You agree, and his eyes momentarily lit up. "But I can already see tomorrow's news headline if you don't show up." He quickly deflates. "Something along the lines of "Famous Artist Rafayel Absent from Brand Launch, Suspected to Have Fallen Out With Brand," or maybe "Insiders Claim Famous Artist Rafayel Secretly Recuperating From an Illness."" You lift your hand and sweep it across the air, as if highlighting the news on a billboard. You drop your hand and turn back to him. He rolls his eyes.
"Oh my, such exaggerated and sensational headlines... When did you become a reporter?"
"You should see the shit people say about digs." You shrug. "'Ancient Tomb Releases Horrific Curse', 'Archaeologist Loses Life due to Horrific Conditions', 'Real Life Indiana Jones Finds Religious Relic'..." You list off some examples with a chuckle. He pouted a little heavier. But he was thinking. You could see the gears whirring in his head, until his sits up with a grin. Snapping his fingers.
"Got it! How about I encourage you to act as my representative today and you deal with the matter on my behalf? Of course, I'll pay you the highest price for representatives in the industry..." You immediately shake your head.
"No thanks."
"You still have quite a bit of time. Think about it." He chides you. But you ignore him, walking into his bedroom.
"Which one?" You call over your shoulder, glancing through his suits. For a moment you think about matching, but figure that won't help you with avoiding dating allegations. You then turn to that bright red suit with the roses, and a different suit. You grab both. He wore that red one while teaching, so you hold it up. Rafayel cranes his head from the couch and looks at it in disbelief.
"When did I buy something like that..." You squint at him.
"You wore it several times before we started dating." Rafayel jumps to his feet, coming over and grabbing the other one. You teasingly hold up the red one, humming. "You sure? It fits your temper quite well, I'd say." You continue to tease him.
"If you like it so much, I'll wear it when we go out. It'll just be the two of us." He huffed.
"Who says I want to go out with you?" You fire back. He whips his head around and catches your obviously cheeky grin, so he relaxes. He slips the tie off his wrists, which you allow, before he starts to unbutton the top two buttons of his pajamas. The sunlight seems to bounce off his chest, illuminating all those little moles again. "What're you doing?!"
"Changing." He responds. "Why are you taking so long to react? Aren't you going to look away?" You do turn around, blushing as he continues to change. You hear the shift of clothes and the soft hiss as the fabric slides down his skin to the floor. You hear rustling, the soft sound of buttons being done and a zipper pulled up. "Oh yeah, turn around now, why don't you. You've already seen what you shouldn't have..." He chuckled, but you keep your eyes averted.
"I didn't!" You protest, speaking faster.
"Psychologists say that a person's rate of speech quickens, and they start to hesitate when they feel guilty." But it's his turn to tease you now. So you just quietly huff. "What's with that reaction? I was just saying that's what happens usually. I didn't have anyone in mind." He continues, but you know where this is going. Once he finishes changing you hear footsteps, and find him back at his couch. "You can turn around now and give me a hand with something else." He already had a pair of shoes ready, and the tie you'd used to bind him was draped across the arm of the couch. You follow him, going through a mental checklist.
Rafayel had used the crisp white shirt you chose with the black dress pants, but dressed it down with a cardigan. He grabbed the tie and lifted it up, dangling it on a finger. "Put this on for me."
"Don't you have hands?" You sass him back, already going through a mental checklist. You had Rafayel, you'd grab your bag, shoes... you had everything.
"My hands are numb from being tied up by you for so long." He whines, but the smile on his face gives him away. he pulls out a watch from his pocket and puts it on at a leisurely pace. "Clock's ticking... keep it up and we'll be late at this rate."
"And whose fault is that?" You take the tie, and he grins in victory. You lean down, mildly exasperated as you loop the tie around the collar. You tie it quickly, making a basic knot. "Thomas will want you to be present for all parts of the event. There will be reporters at the entrance taking photos, and..." You squint. You had been looking at the tie but when you looked back up at his face he seemed... dazed. His pupils were a little bigger, trained on you with an odd expression. "Are you listening?" His gaze shifts. He looks down at your wrist. He stares. "Rafayel?" You call his name. You gently wave a hand across his face, and he grabs your arm. You blink. Not afraid, but shocked. "What's the matter? Raf?"
"I heard you talking about the event." His voice had seemingly dropped an octave, with a newfound rasp in it. You blink, ears turning red. Damn. Rafayel's eyes drift down, and a strange look crosses his face as if he's trying to hold himself back. "Your hand..." Without warning, he tugs you down into his lap. You yelp, scrambling to sit up.
"Rafayel?! Wait! Wait wait wait!!!" Rafayel pulls you towards him. Caught off guard, you scramble for purchase against the couch and the tie you'd been doing came undone.
"Hold still." He instructs, his fingers tightening around your wrist.
"Your shirt! It'll get wrinkled!" You protest again.
"I don't care. Let me smell this." Rafayel wasn't listening. "What is that?" He buried his nose against your wrist, taking a deep breath in. "It smells... good. And familiar..." He seemed out of it, the tone in his voice just short of a moan. If you were red before you were beet red now.
"What's wrong? Did something happen?" There was a flush against his face as well.
"No, I'm fine. Very well, in fact." He pressed his nose further against your skin, just short of nuzzling your wrist.
"You don't look well at all." You mutter. He's getting more flushed by the second. His breathing labored. But you think. You think hard. What could be on your wrist? "Come to think of it... I tried an unreleased fragrance in the back office of the exhibit hall. It was made with special ingredients extracted from marine plants."
"Perfume? You spritzed the perfume sample on your wrist?" Rafayel sounded shocked, even concerned for a moment. Rafayel shifts his gaze, and his breath falls on the inside of your wrist. The faint scent gradually grows stronger as your body temperature rises. "It's a bit bitter, like fermented plants... but very fragrant." He muttered, his tone returning to that husky one from earlier.
"It could be a mixture of artificial chemical stuff. You said that stuff gives you headaches." You scramble for a reason why he'd act like this. "Now, let go of me. Please."
"No." He muttered again. Seemingly under some kind of spell. Rafayel savors the scent lingering in the air as he pulls his collar open. His eyes are glazed over, and a faint blush spread further across his cheeks. He takes a deep breath, nuzzling your hand. "I could've sworn I've smelled this fragrance before..."
You gently tug your hand, trying to pull away. "We can worry about it later. Let's go."
But he tugs it again. "Let me smell it again." You tug again, and when he pull your wrist you lightly swat his arm. He presses his lips together in disapproval.
"What are you, a cat?"
You press your lips together. He wasn't being threatening, but this was reminding you of Ebb day. You weren't fond of how he wasn't letting you go, so you tug harder. "Rafayel. You're the one who's acting like a cat. A kitty that found some catnip, to be exact." You add with a huff. He looks at you with a frown of distaste.
"I am not a cat. And also, you're not allowed to say that. I just couldn't resist..."He continues to nuzzle and rub your wrist, breathing it in. "What is this weird perfume...?" He looks at you again. His pupils blown wide. Something is happening to him. This didn't seem... normal. So you carefully approach him again. Changing your approach.
"Are you alright?"
"It must be an allergic reaction..." He put a hand to his head, groaning. "This isn't perfume. How dare they use such underhanded methods to trap me..." Allergic. Underhanded. Trap. Your initial frustration snapped into fear and clarity. They? Who's they? EVER? The perfume company?
"Huh? Raf, what do you mean? Who's they?"
"Who gave you the perfume? Who sent it?"
"No one." You reiterate. "It was at the exhibit. Why do you look like you're drunk?"
"I'm not drunk. I just don't like the scent." He grumbled, but immediately took another deep breath against your skin before nuzzling your palm. Wrist and palm kisses were normal for him, but never had he been this obsessive over it. He turned your hand and nipped at you, his breathing growing labored with another soft moan.
"Rafayel... you..." You try to find the words, but he's too far out of it to properly communicate.
"Are you trying to run away again?" He looks up. While still raspy, there's a hint of fear in his voice. You know better than to leave him alone. Whatever was in this perfume was having a very nasty reaction. He was fully out of focus. Hot to the touch, pupils blown wide, whining and moaning. You didn't think of it as anything but discomfort, thought the tone of his voice made you flush in kind. You reach out with your free hand, caressing his cheek and rubbing his chin. He immediately leaves your poor wrist alone, instead chasing your hand as you lovingly rubbed him.
"You don't look so good." You mutter. This wasn't a mere allergic reaction. "Should I take you to a doctor? Call your aunt?" Raf grabbed your other wrist. Eyes locked on you.
"I'm not going anywhere." His eyes weren't moving. Locked on you like a predator watching prey. You feel small all of a sudden, freezing under his gaze. "You're gonna lock me up again... You're with them, I jus know it. Don't think I'm unaware of what you're about to do."
Your heart drops into your stomach.
It felt like you were back at day one. The distrust, the way he looked at you with a mix of fear and fury. Though there was love in his eyes, he was wound taught, like a spring about to jump, or an animal about to flee. And yet, he pulls your wrist closer to his face. Hovering it like you always do, while his face met you in the middle. Nuzzling it, rubbing on it, getting your scent on him and his scent on you. Marking you and himself in kind. "I won't fall for it again. Not this time." He leans in closer to you, eyeing your neck. Your heart is beating so fast you can hardly hear him at this point. Concern and frustration and fear hit you like a truck.
"Rafayel, snap out of it!" You find your voice and borderline shout. You can feel his cold hand against the side of your neck, reminding you you sprayed some perfume on there earlier as well.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything to you." In spite of whatever state he was in, he was still noticing things. He could tell you were uncomfortable, maybe even fearful. While his grip remained tight, his voice softened. That being said, he's still almost on top of you, his breathing loud in your ear. But when he released your wrist, reaching for your collar, you scurry back for some distance. He looks up, eyes unfocused, breathing heavy, pupils blown wide.
Did he look drunk, or was it something else? He groans for a moment, dropping his head to hold his hand against it. Your phone begins to vibrate so you take the chance to escape, snatching it. "It's Thomas!" You owed him big time for this one. Or did he owe you for inadvertently putting you in this situation? "He probably wants to remind us of the time. Let's head out!"
"...huh?" Rafayel squints, spacing out. But you take the chance. You wriggle free and dash to the bathroom to clean off as much of the scent as possible. You grab the scented soap and immediately cover your wrist and neck in it. Not caring about water stains, you just immediately begin to scrub as fast and hard as you can. You don't care if your skin is red, you need to neutralize whatever is in this perfume so you can figure out what it did to Rafayel.
You hear his footsteps. "Where are you going?" He sounds dazed, but easygoing. They get closer and closer, gradually drowning out the sound of running water. From behind, a hand presses against the mirror. "Gotcha." You turn sharply and come face to face with him. Still flushed, pupils still dilated, chest still exposed. In any other circumstance this would be flirty. Playful.
But as far as you were concerned someone drugged a perfume and used it to get at Rafayel. So there was no spark here, only concern. You decide it was time to pull out the big guns. You carefully back away, phone still in your pocket. Rafayel reaches out for your hand, which you willingly offer to him. He grasps it and tugs it to his nose, taking another deep breath of it as you immediately call Talia. You put it on speakerphone, and Raf barely even cracks an eye open.
"Ah! Hello!" She cheerfully greets, and that makes Rafayel's eyes both open wide.
"AuntieTaliaIneedyourhelp!" You all but yelp. "Rafayel is acting weird and I was wearing this perfume and now he's talking about people capturing him and he won't let me go and I-"
"Oh my gods- dearie, slow down." She gasped, but focused. "Is he there with you? Rafayel?"
"Yes, Aunt Talia?" He muttered, side eyeing your phone. He swipes at it, but you snatch it away. He groans. "I'm here."
"Let go." She spoke calmly, in an even tone. Rafayel whined something, but Talia responded in Lemurian. That seemed to snap him out of it. He slowly released your hand, so you snatch a washcloth and scrub at your skin as she continued to speak to him. A part of you wished you understood so you could know what was going on, but logically you knew she was saying something private. Whatever it was she was saying, it worked. He went from flushed to pale in record time. Talia's voice softened, coaching him through whatever it was he was experiencing. He turned on the faucet and ran his hands under the cold water, splashing his face. While he did that you finished scrubbing at your skin. For good measure you take a little lotion and cover the same spots to cover the scent.
Rafayel remained hunched over the sink. He muttered something, and Talia responded in kind. Their conversation seemed to snap Rafayel out of it.
"What... was that?" You finally speak. When Rafayel looks at you there's a new flush of embarrassment on his face.
"More importantly, are you alright?" Talia reverted back to a human tongue for you.
"Shaken up, but fine."
Rafayel groaned and hid his face in his arms. "I am, so, so very sorry, cutie, I-"
"What? No, no." You finally come back over, a hand on his back. "Raf, I'm worried. You looked... out of it. Drunk, or high, or... just under some kind of influence."
"Oh. So it was...?"
"Yes, Aunt Talia, it was." Rafayel's ears turned a bit more red. "I don't know what made them think of using those... Could someone have-?"
"Are either of you going to include me in this?" You interrupt with a hint of frustration. "As far as I'm aware I put on a perfume that gave Rafayel the weirdest allergic reaction of all time, or was laced with something that drugged him. I think I should be included in this conversation."
"No, not a drug." Rafayel clarified. "I don't exactly know either. I'll let you know as soon as I do. But I'm okay... are you?" He looked you over. You'd practically rubbed your skin raw trying to get it off, and there was a clear bite on your hand from where he'd nipped you. He cringed. "Thomas can wait. We should both get cleaned up."
"Maybe get you a new suit, your shirt and pants are all wrinkled now." You point out right back. "Maybe take a shower, you started sweating." Rafayel looked down at himself before cringing again, a grimace on his face.
"You're right... maybe we should just skip the event altogether. Y'know, recover...?" Your hard stare made him backpedal. "Okay, okay... mind letting Thomas know we'll be late, cutie?"
"Oh, Rafy, will you please call me before you leave?" Talia popped back in, reminding you both she was still on the phone. "I'm thankful you're both alright. That's disconcerting, to have something happen like that so suddenly..." She drifts off. Clearly hinting at something for Rafayel, but not you. You decide against prying as Rafayel huffs.
"Fine, fine. But can it wait?"
"No." You and Rafayel share a look of surprise. Huh.
"Oh. Uh, okay. I'll call you back on my phone in a minute."
"Good. Speak to you soon, Rafy." And with that, she hung up.
You blink for a few moments before looking at Rafayel. Before you can even ask he shrugs. "Don't look at me, that was new for me, too."
"Okay... maybe I called at a bad time?" You pocket your phone again and look in the mirror. Your hair was a mess, and your shirt was crumpled and showed sweat stains.
"Hey, don't worry about it." Rafayel gently kissed your forehead. "You know what? I've got that shirt here that's your size. Do you want to take a quick shower first? We're already gonna be late, might as well look good." You look at yourself again and do find yourself agreeing. You didn't want to be a hot mess when you show up. "I have to call her back anyway. Might as well let you shower while you wait."
"Okay, fair point." You agree. "I'll text Thomas you had an allergic reaction to that one perfume and I needed to let you compose yourself." Rafayel nodded, approving of the excuse. He left the bathroom for a moment before coming back with the shirt he'd mentioned. It would be appropriate under your blazer. With that, he shuts the door to let you get freshened up.
It was familiar at this point. Taking a nice shower in the bathroom while Rafayel did something else just outside. The first time he was ordering breakfast, the next making a meal after you got injured. Now you're just taking a moment to freshen up before heading out. You can hear pacing footsteps and snippets of another language. You don't take too long, just scrubbing yourself down. You turn off the water and dry off before getting dressed, taming your hair as well. Every few moments you'd hear footsteps and grumbled words. It seemed as though Rafayel's mood was getting worse by the moment.
You poke your head out, hair neat and with a clean shirt on. Raf has his back to you. He's already ditched the cardigan another suit nicely draped across the couch. He was arguing with his aunt on the phone. Eyebrows furrowed, shoulders tense. But it was clear that whatever was going on, Talia had the final say. You couldn't hear her, she wasn't on speaker, and they were clearly trying to keep this private. But whatever it was she said made him stiffen. He glanced over his shoulder at you, just looking at you for a moment. You quietly approach, setting a hand on his arm. Whatever it was making him so tense didn't go away. But his shoulders sagged. And he gave in.
"Okay. I will." Rafayel looked at his phone. "After the event. I've tried to stay home, no luck." Talia said something back, but you just can't hear her. "Yeah, yeah. Love you, too, Aunt Talia. Bye." With that, he hung up. You open your mouth to ask if he's alright but he moved too fast. He tossed his phone onto the couch and went straight into the bathroom. "My turn. Make yourself at home."
The door shuts a little harder than usual. You slowly look to side eye at his phone, before turning to Reddie in his tank. "Now what was all of that about?" You put your hands on your hips as if Reddie himself could tell you. You step over some turned over art supplies to get to his tank. He flits back and forth, watching you through the tank as you approached. "You saw that, right? Your father is an odd one." You lean against the back of the couch as Rafayel cleans himself up. "You know... I feel like as much as I know about him, he's hiding from me. Like, he wants me know him, but he also doesn't. I just wish he'd trust me." You aimlessly touch the charm between your collarbones. A pearl. Knowing Rafayel, he preferred to make his own supplies whenever possible. So you wouldn't be surprised if the pearl around your neck was a tear he had once cried.
You just wished he'd share these tears with you. Not as jewelry. But as actual tears. His pain is yours, and you want to support him the same way he supports you. But you can only do so if he lets you.
The door reopens. You keep your back to the bathroom as he pads across the room. You hear the same shift and hiss of fabric on skin, and soon he's dressed. You turn, and he looks handsome as always. He grabbed his phone off the couch before looking in a mirror. He'd turned to fluff his hair, though nothing was satisfying him. He fussed over his hair before dropping his hands in defeat. "Come on, we're late, let's go."
"Since when did you care about that?" You grab your bag, heading out the door with him. He did the typical 'phone, wallet, keys' pat down before shutting and locking the door behind him. He shrugged.
"Just don't want Thomas whining at me the whole time."
Woof. You can tell he's in a foul mood. Whatever it was that was in that perfume and whatever it was he talked about with his aunt? It pissed him off. You elect to keep your mouth shut to let him simmer down, then try again with cooler heads. You get in the car and put your bag down. He gets in and checks his mirrors before buckling in. With that, you're off. "You may want to check a gps, there was traffic when I walked over." You do decide to warn him, but he shrugs.
"We'll be fine."
After 30 minutes in traffic, it was, decidedly, not fine. Rafayel was laying on the horn at someone while you sink back in your seat. You'd already told Thomas the situation, and he'd agreed to have that perfume put far, far away to ensure Rafayel didn't have another 'reaction'. For some reason it wasn't one of the perfumes set out with the three paintings. It was for the collection, yes, but Thomas was confused why it was there. Whatever. You decide you can figure out what's going on once you survive the car ride from hell.
"Honking loudly won't help us move faster." You watch the traffic, almost tempted to just get out and walk there at this point. "No amount of noise is gonna make our situation easier."
"But it helps me express what I'm feeling, you know."
You remembered him moving a bit slower during the last green light. Had he punched it, you two would've been further along now. Another hard slam against the horn helped you keep your mouth shut. You look out at the expanse of cars before you. This was one reason why you loved walking, or taking the bus. Walking avoided traffic. Taking the bus meant you weren't the one driving in it. Though being Rafayel's passenger wasn't ideal. You watch wistfully as a pair of bicyclists zip by. "We should have just ridden bikes." You joke, hoping something light would put him in a better mood. "An exhibit jointly held by Rafayel the renowned artist and a world-famous perfume brand..." You could see the gossip headlines now. But as you glance at the time again, you ask another question. "Would the reporters bully you for your attitude if you show up late?"
"Not for being late, no, but if we were to arrive on bicycles, they'd have a field day." He rolled his eyes. You want to keep trying, make him smile, make him laugh. But nothing was getting through to him. He does cut his eyes over to you. "Remember to stay close to me and protect me later. You won't be my representative, but you are my bodyguard." It remains an inside thought, but right now, all you want to do is keep him at arm's length. You look out the window and find a Samoyed sticking its head out of the rear window of the car next to you. you sit up and grin, pointing at it.
"Look, the dog is smiling at us!" A flame suddenly bursts forth from Rafayel's fingertip. The Samoyed yelps pitifully, retreating into the car. Your grin drops, and you whip your head around to give Rafayel a withering glare.
"So you're even bullying dogs now?"
Rafayel shrugged. But he refused to look at you. "Didn't you see it was making fun of you? There was ridicule and disgust in its eyes. I just helped preserve your dignity." You just about drop your jaw.
Oh you were talking about this later. He can be pissy, but fucking with an innocent dog because he was pissy was off the table. You run a hand down your face in exasperation, leaning back in your seat.
"If we keep going at this speed, we'll be lucky to get there by sunset." You change the subject to preserve the fragile peace in the car. You needed to find a truce before there was an actual blow up in the car. Had you known he'd get like this you would've agreed to not make him come. And to think not even a few hours ago you were both teasing each other over a tie and being caught in a silly trick. How did things change this fast?
"VIPs are known for arriving fashionably late. Even if we're the last to arrive, all eyes will still be on us." Rafayel shrugged, but punctuated his assertion with another slam against his steering wheel.
"...Then stop honking!"
It took a while, but you do successfully arrive before the event starts. Ever the gentleman even in a foul mood, Rafayel came to your side and opened the door for you. You're almost blinded by the camera lights the moment you step out of the car, but you simply hold up a hand to keep your wits. Rafayel remained composed, not even gracing the photographers with a smile or a look as he ushered you in.
"They're taking photos of you. Can you at least have some kind of reaction?"
"Why should I smile at them? These reporters are nowhere near as cute as that samoyed we just saw." He scoffed. You can practically feel your eye twitch, the words 'the one you almost burned' on the tip of your tongue. But you didn't want "Renowned Artist Abuses Animals" to be the next headline so you bite your tongue once more.
As you enter the event, the once empty halls were brimming with life. Guests and employees milled about, admiring the art and the history of the perfume company exhibits. It is a sea of people . "I didn't expect there to be so many people..." As you and Rafayel walk around the exhibit, you overhear some of the conversations the guests were having.
"Look at these unrestrained lines, and the chaotic, yet sharp brushwork! Mr. Rafayel has done it again! His works always speak to the very core of my being!" One said, his chest puffed up with pride.
"The design of this bottle's packaging uses such bold colors and has such a unique flair!" Another admired a perfume bottle. "And what's even rarer is that it embodies the artist's exploration of the id and the ego..."
You turn to look at Rafayel and whisper, "Did they get it right?"
"If you look up "Rafayel's latest work" on your phone, you'll see the exact same rating on the first page." He whispered back. For the first time since you'd left the house, he did some mildly amused.
"And here I thought that at such a grand event, you would meet a soulmate or two." You poke back, hoping to keep the mood light. There was a storm over his head, a distance in his eyes. While he was usually fighting with himself to not touch you too affectionately in public, he was easily keeping his hands to himself tonight. He was restrained. Distant. Guilt from what happened with the perfume? Just a bad mood...?
"l don't paint for others to understand." His tone returned to the curt one from before. Damn it, mission failed.
"But to some extent, I do understand the praise they're giving you." You look away. Watching the sea of people. Some men were trying to debate the meaning of the art, flaunting their understanding like peacocks with peahens watching on. Others were trying to impress their fellow man. Some women discussed the notes of the perfume, while others admired the art in silence. People mulled about, mulling over perfume, history, art, and what it means to them. "After all, you artists have a certain magnetism. It's something I've always admired as someone in STEM. You're able to create links between completely unrelated things. Even I feel these paintings and perfumes complement each other."
"You're wrong." Rafayel stopped walking. "These "completely unrelated things" are actually related. For instance, scents and pictures help us retain that which we cannot constantly have with us."
You fall quiet, before a bitter laugh escapes. "You're right. How could I forget? It's how seeing Yennifer's office made me smell her perfume."
"Exactly."
"The thought of elbow pads reminds me of Sean. The scent of stew brings me back to memories of a campfire and scary stories with Fred. Loud laughter will always make me think of Eleanor." You take one of the blue bottles and spritz it onto the provided tester strip. You wave it around for a moment before testing it. "All of these seemingly unrelated things act as triggers for memory. Like this beautiful bottle holds the smell of the sea breeze."
"Incorrect. It doesn't "hold." It "captures.""
You slowly cut your eyes over to him. Trying to hold back a snarky comment. "Is there a difference?"
Rafayel takes the bottle from you and puts the lid back on. He sets the perfume back on the stand. "Smells fade and pigments oxidize, so it's only possible to capture a specific instance." Your snark fades. You take a second to compose yourself, begging to anyone who'd listen for Rafayel's bad mood to not rub off on you any more than it already had.
"When you put it that way, it's bittersweet. These things are temporary." You look at the bottle, tracing a nail over the label. Your lips curl into a melancholy smile. "Everything ends. People die, animals and plants die, even memories will fade. Archaeology is only based on the material record, after all. If nothing remains, then no memory can be reconstructed. It is truly gone." You slowly look back at him. "But what do you consider "that which you cannot constantly have with you"?"
Rafayel pressed his lips together. He opened his mouth once or twice, before shutting it again to think.
"Hard to put it into words?"
"No, it's just if you keep asking, I won't know what else to make up." He shrugged a single shoulder. You don't know if you should smack him for ending the moment with such flippancy. So you just decide to roll your eyes as he wanders off.
He probably needed some space. You're here as his bodyguard, but that doesn't mean you feel like putting up with that kind of attitude all night. So you let him blow off some steam, just mentally hoping and praying he didn't burn someone. You keep an eye on the entrances and exits just to be safe. But after a while with no sight of him, you figured it was time to try again.
"Excuse me, coming through..." You politely worm your way through crowds, calling for him. "Rafayel. Ra-fa—yel!" After some looking, you find him in a quiet, unremarkable corner of the building. It doesn't surprise you. He didn't want to be here to begin with. "You're hard to find." You join him in the corner, looking around. "Why did you move to this corner-?"
"Shhh! If those weirdos hear me, they'll rant about art and the meaning of life." He stuck his hands out, one to gently cover your mouth and the other to pull you closer. Letting him fend for himself for a while snapped him out of it, luckily enough. But you don't celebrate just yet. Since you don't talk and stay still, he removes his hand. "I'm tired. I just want to be alone for a while." He leaned against the wall, a heavy sigh coming out. He really did seem miserable.
"When I saw you joking around with the CEO of that perfume brand, I thought you were really enjoying yourself."
There's a difference between excelling at something and enjoying it. I shouldn't have given in to Thomas's request in a moment of weakness..." Rafayel dug his palms into his eyes, as if trying to scrub the memory from his psyche. "Cutie, if you don't help me find a way to leave this place, I'm going to grow mushrooms out of my head!"
"You were invited, so it would be kind of rude to just leave." You chide, but you did start looking around. He was distraught enough for you to say enough is enough. You could make an excuse about Raf having another weird reaction, or claiming you had a stomach ache and Rafayel was offering to take you home... Light bulb. "How about I pretend to be drunk and you leave on the pretext of sending me home? We did arrive here together after all."
Rafayel removed a hand, watching you with a squint. "How are you going to act?"
"Kinda similar to how you were earlier." You take one glass of champagne and down it just to get into character. It wasn't appropriate for the setting but it was just you and Rafayel anyway. "Unfortunately my field does have an alcoholism problem, so I know what people look and act like when drunk." You rub your own cheeks and face to make yourself red while Raf watched on in disbelief.
"You're really planning to get yourself drunk? ...How's your alcohol tolerance? You won't get drunk with just two glasses, will you?"
"I had one when we came in and I'm having one now. Two isn't going to do me in. Trust my acting skills." You turn to him since there was no mirror. "Do I look drunk now?"
"Your face isn't red enough. I'd suggest slapping yourself hard to make it redder."
You shoot him another look. "If you try to annoy me, I'll walk out on my own. I will leave you to the wolves."
"Hmm..." That didn't sound like agreement. "Well if that's the case, I'll have to rely on my wits then." He shrugged, leaning in close. "I'll tell the organizers that my partner angrily stormed out and I have to win back their heart." Rafayel seems certain he has a good idea and prepares to leave. You groan, reaching out.
"You-hey, wait! Rafayel, don't you dare spread rumors! That's exactly what we're trying to avoid-!" In the heat of the moment, you grab his tie. Rafayel doesn't seem to react and uses the opportunity to lean in closer. In fact, he's smiling. Like you'd fallen into his trap yet again.
He leans in real close, a conspiratorial smile on his face. "What do you wanna whisper into my ear?"
"Why are you so close?"
"You're the one who grabbed my tie. How am I supposed to keep my distance?" He was far too smug for someone who had been pissing you off all evening. You drop his tie.
"Well... There's something on your face. I just wanted to let you know." You use your free hand to lightly flick at his chin.
"Okay, but the lights are so dim here. How can you see it?" He catches the hand and pulls it back, so you rest your hand where you flicked him to soothe any sting. Raf seemed more amused than offended. You release him and take a step back, though he holds on tighter.
"If you take another step back, you're going to knock into the perfume bottle." You look over your shoulder and find his warning to be true. But you were over it. You hold your hands up in surrender. You'd been as forgiving as you could all afternoon and evening. You're at your limit.
"Well, excuse me for trying to help." You prop your hands on your hips, speaking a little louder. "If you're not going to let me do my damn job, then go right ahead. If you want to go, then go!" You sidestepped the perfume bottle and turn with a huff. Rafayel follows you, a small smile blooming on his face.
"Your acting is really bad." Ah, so he caught on. Good. You crack an eye open to look at him, hoping those around you bought your redirected anger. "It's obvious you're pretending, but... A shade darker than tangerine, lighter than burgundy... That should do it."
"What are you talking about...?" You drop your voice as you give him your full attention, but he just cups and pinches your cheeks to make them a little redder.
"Ugh. Someone's coming. Hurry, give me an unfocused look. Stand still, and don't move unless you have to." His instructions are quick, but clear. You stand still but allow yourself to sway a little, forcing your eyes to unfocus. You throw in a distracted smile to add to the look. A waiter scurries over, his eyes wide.
"Rafayel, sir, you're here!"
Rafayel turns to him with an apologetic smile, one hand steadying you. "Apologies, my companion here is drunk. I have to send them home. I won't be able to stay."
"But—" The waiter splutters, gesturing to the exit. "Your car-!"
"Excuse me." Rafayel doesn't wait. He doesn't really use his wits, he just rushes you to the exit before anyone can question him further. You make a mental note to apologize profusely to Thomas. There was just no way you'd be able to keep him here at this rate. The waiter follows, still saying something about the car. And as soon as you get outside, you see why. The cold wind shocked you out of your act. The incoming fall brought cooler evenings, leaving you shuddering as you stare at the punctured front tire.
That seemed to be the final straw.
"Why are people so jealous of someone else's success? They even punctured my tire!" He threw his hands up. Not angry, or rageful, just plain bamboozled. 'Fewer people want to be nice and instead do the most despicable things. Remorse doesn't exist anymore I guess." He continued his tirade as the waiter popped out.
"... we alerted Thomas, a tow truck is on its way." He whispered to you. You nod. "Tire will be replaced at his normal place, he said. He asked me to pass along the message."
"Thank you very much. I'll remind him to get the car tomorrow." The waiter smiled at you in sympathy before going back inside. Rafayel turned, realizing you hadn't been listening to his ranting.
"Did you not hear me at all?" Whatever had been fueling his tirade was gone. He was tired. So were you.
"There's still congestion downtown and we won't be able to get a cab for the next hour or so. How do you plan on getting home? Walk?"
Rafayel scoffed. "Find a river and swim."
You walk over, hoisting your bag on your shoulder as you reach for his hand. "How about humbling yourself and riding a public bike with me? It's not too far." Rafayel pouted, trying to find an excuse. But he deflated a little further as he just told the truth.
"I don't know how to ride a bike." He admits. But you don't say anything. You just start to guide him away from the parking lot.
"Hold on, you didn't ask me that on purpose so you could take off on your own, right?" He quickly turns to look at you, but you keep walking with him in tow.
"If I was going to ditch you, it would've happened a lot earlier today." You shoot him a look, but he doesn't meet your eye. "I'm not that mean, anyway. I'll ride and you sit behind me. How does that sound?"
He perked up. "Okay."
"You were very quick to agree..." But you don't protest any further. There's a set of bikes open to the public, so you grab one of the few for multiple riders. "Get on. There isn't much space, but we're used to being close." Rafayel eyed the bike warily.
"Umm, the road can get pretty bumpy. Just to prevent accidents from happening, could I-"
"No."
"I haven't even finished speaking."
"Your hands stay on the back seat! Don't even think about putting them anywhere else!" You instruct firmly. No more wandering hands, you'd had enough grabbing for the day! Rafayel rolled his eyes as he handed you his phone.
"Fine, I was actually going to ask if I could leave my phone with you for safekeeping." When you reach out to take it he holds it back up in the air, clicking his tongue at you. "No means no."
You didn't feel like biting back at the teasing. The day had been long and tiresome, not to mention incredibly confusing. One moment he was playfully whining and evading your attempts to get him to work, the next he all but pounced on you, then he was irritable and in a bad mood. He's settled down, but you don't know what to say. You push off, guiding the bike down the lane. It took a few minutes, but the light breeze seemed to soften Rafayel further. He began to hum a tune, something soft. Almost melancholy. But it felt nostalgic.
You don't speak at first. Just taking the moment in. Whatever soft cologne he was wearing, the breeze, the trees glistening in the setting sun. The faint scent of his lotion still clung to your skin, masking the perfume from earlier. "Your songs are just as evocative as your paintings." You interrupt his singing with a compliment. "I wish I was there to listen to you sing..."
You can practically feel the smile radiating from Rafayel. Preening from the praise. "Now that's something I like to hear. I'll appoint you as my soulmate for now."
"For now? Don't say I'm temporary." You joke back. "That sounds like there's a 'but' in there."
"The stuff that comes after "but" is usually negative. It's better not to say it." Rafayel slid his hand off of the back seat. Tentatively tracing your waist, waiting for approval or rejection. You don't push him off. So he leans in closer. Balancing his body weight on the bike even while he leaned in to your ear. "But you're not temporary. Know that. Many things are fleeting... the scent of oceanwater in the air, perfume in a bottle. But we are not temporary." There was comfort to be found in his words. You allow your shoulders to relax for the first time that day.
"Even if I don't always interpret your art right? Like those at the exhibit?"
"Those people believe art will make them look more sophisticated and improve their reputation. That's not what you're doing. Right?"
"Right. I couldn't afford a piece of yours, anyway. But if I could I would." The breeze was getting a little more biting as you went along. It was much better than running down the sidewalk like earlier, but with the sun setting the night would get a little cooler. "There are some who buy your works because they admire you."
Raf scoffed. "You don't need to know the name of a hen to enjoy her eggs. Isn't it better that we all maintain our distance while admiring each other?"
"l never thought you'd like to be low-key, before I got to know you." How had it already been several months? You could've sworn it was mere days ago you ran into Rafayel at the library and he made fun of you for hoarding all the books. Time had flown. The events of the past several months came rushing back to the forefront of your mind. But before you could overthink, Rafayel's cologne hit you again. His hand steady against your waist, his body warm behind you, grounded you. "By the way, the cologne you wore today smells like the sea breeze. More so than you usually do, anyway. I kinda like it."
"You really do have good taste. It's one of my favorite scents." Once more, you can practically feel and hear him preening behind you from the praise.
"I can't afford your paintings, but I can afford a bottle of perfume. That's my way of supporting you. Indirectly though." Rafayel huffed again, poking your rib.
"What's so nice about artificial scents? I'll take you to the beach next time so you can appreciate what the tide really smells like."
As soon as he finishes talking, the tire hits something. You immediately go to press the brakes but it was too late. It was a steep downhill slope. You continue to steadily apply the brakes but to no avail. You were picking up more and more and more speed, zipping down the slope at a breakneck pace. Rafayel said something but you can't hear him over the rush in your ears. All you can do is slam on the breaks and hope for the best. You hit the curb and it sends you both tumbling unglamorously onto the grass. Raf had grabbed you last minute, an arm shielding you from hitting your head, but you both hit the ground hard.
You both groan as you sit up, the bike a few feet away with the front wheel still spinning. Raf muttered an ouch, grabbing at his arm. You scramble up, looking at it.
"Rafayel, what's wrong?!"
"I never thought l'd one day be in a traffic accident..." While dazed, he seemed okay. you tug at his sleeve to get a good look at his arm, which he allowed.
"Thank you for protecting me." No scrapes. Probably just a bruise come morning. You'd both be covered in them. "I'm used to falling. It happens when I'm out on a dig... Fortunately, we landed in a field." You look forward and find the path back to Rafayel's place. It would be a bit of a walk, but nothing horrific. The bike did its job.
"You're welcome. It's the job of every citizen to protect idiots." Rafayel got up off the ground, starting to dust himself off. Once the grass was off of him he reached down, offering you his hand. You get up with his help, and he gently tapped your head. "Just didn't expect you to have a thick skull."
You snort, swatting at his hand. "Yeah, yeah, you should be used to it by now. Does your arm hurt? Can you still hold a paintbrush?"
"It hurts. I can't hold one straight, but I can still grab you." He pretends to rub his wrist before turning sharply. He wraps his arms around you to pick you up, making you laugh as he suddenly spun you around. Whatever it was on his mind, tumbling through the grass officially snapped him out of it. You smack at his shoulders a few times, still laughing as he finally set you down. "Uh, do you think... maybe we can walk the rest of the way home together. How does that sound?"
"Of course, we've had enough adventures for the day, Rafy." Your laughter turns to softer chuckles. You find your bag on the ground and pick it up, before returning the bike to a nearby stand. It was quiet, but you do finally get to walk back to Rafayel's with him.
The intense air from earlier had evaporated. Though there was a tension leftover. You had to admit, you did need to bring up the whole Mo thing. You were oh so very tempted to just not bring it up after the day you'd both had, but you'd learned your lesson with the metacarpal. No time like the present. There's no accusation here, you're just going to be straight up. Lay out the facts, tell him what Talia told you, and make sure he knows you don't hold it against him. It doesn't make you fear him. Sure, it was an unsavory thing, but to your knowledge wholly necessary and a means of defending his community.
Rafayel was quiet. Whatever it was on his mind, it weighed him down. His playfulness was gone for the moment. One arm steadily wrapped around you as he retreated into his mind. Talia had called him earlier, did she mention your conversation already? That would explain his mood. Neither of you had the chance to really talk before the whole perfume thing, and you had to run out the door after.
It didn't matter. You would find out the truth soon.
Rafayel opens the gate, and you two make the walk to his door. He unlocked the door, allowing you in first before he came in and shut the door behind you. You remove your blazer and your shoes as he sighs.
"My aunt told me you two talked."
Ah.
Rafayel ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes on the floor. "And... I didn't mean to scare you. I swear. But I didn't want to... I don't know,"
"Hey." You turn to him before he can wander off in his own thoughts again. You gently grasp his arms, looking at him with nothing but love. You were partially relieved he was the one who brought it up. You were pleasantly surprised to be on the same page! " We needed to have this talk. Thank you for being honest with me. Vulnerable. This doesn't change my relationship with you, or what I feel about you. It just helps clarify the situation we're in. It helps me understand what I need to do to help you." You squeeze his arms. His shoulders slowly droop again, some relief flooding his gaze.
"You're the best, cutie."
"I completely support you, Rafayel." You gently tug him in, and he meets you half way for a hug. "It's not ideal, but that's life. I know you're Mo. It was unideal, but you have to protect yourself and those who remain. I understand."
Rafayel froze.
"... what?"
You pull back. You look at his face and he looked downright bewildered. "You're Mo." You repeat yourself slowly. "You don't need to play dumb now... I already know. Your aunt kind of helped confirm it, but she was vague. I mean, it's the name of your art studio, you did go after Raymond, you mentioned training in opera and that last guy who was killed was killed by a siren's song, it's why you're so skittish around Louis hanging around me...?" You list off a handful of your examples. "Besides. I can't find anything about your past before you moved to Linkon. Perfect alibi. So... I know, and now you know I know, so we can have a more open conversation about where this is going to go!" Rafayel grabbed your shoulders and gently moved you back. His mouth was agape.
His shoulders shook. A laugh bubbling up. "Oh my gods, that's what you thought she meant?"
"Again, please don't lie to me, I already know." You set your hands on your hips, a determined look on your face, but Raf just laughs in disbelief.
"Sinking deeper, lost myself, all that... She thought you were talking about a depressive episode." You freeze in your petulant pose. Now that you think about it, you can see why she interpreted it that way. Rafayel laughed again, running his hands down his face in disbelief.
"I mean... both are right?"
"Oh." His laughter was infectious. Here you were, so confident and even unbothered by him being a serial killer and he was freaking out over confessing to having had a depressive episode back when he lived in Verona. Your own shoulders shook, a laugh of disbelief escaping your lips in kind. "Oh my gods what the fuck kind of relationship are we in?" Between the botched bike ride and a complete miss on couple's communication, the tension was fully gone. The foyer of his home filled with disbelieving laughter.
"I don't know, but it's uniquely us." Rafayel kicked off his shoes, still laughing on and off. "I... I can't believe that was what you were talking about... and I was freaking out over a depressive episode."
"And I was being so nonchalant about you being a serial killer."
"I do question your self preservation." Rafayel flicked your forehead. He seemed relieved that the truth was out there, on both accounts. "Shouldn't you have distanced yourself? Stayed away?"
"Last I checked," You swat at his hand. "I figured out you were lowkey stalking me and still stuck around. EVER started coming after me as soon as I started hanging out with you and I still stuck around. You admitted to having a hand in Raymond's death and I still stuck around. Call me crazy, but I've come too far to be scared off now."
"Good. That's what I like to hear." Rafayel finally began to shed his outdoor clothing. His blazer came off and was tossed over the back of his couch. He took off his tie, sighing in immediate relief as he could unbutton his shirt. "Yeah, you're kinda in too deep to run off all scared now."
"I might not be coming with you for a killing spree, but the more I learn about what's going on the more I agree desperate times call for desperate measures." You start to mimic him. Shedding the clothes you wore to the event. You pad off to his room, Rafayel quick to follow, as you rummage around for a clean shirt of his to steal. You find a pair of pajama pants in your size in a designated drawer and some clean underwear. There was something so domestic about the two of you having designated 'staying over' clothes, with the excuse of staying as close as possible. "For example, if EVER's donation is accepted, I'll see what I can do about fudging numbers and reports to make sure they stay off our trail." Rafayel came up behind you as you spoke. He wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his nose against your pulse again. He didn't go crazy like earlier. Instead, he just nuzzled against your skin. A content look on his face.
"Cutie, have I ever told you how much I adore you?" You chuckle at him, before turning to peck his lips. He returns the chaste kiss before nuzzling back in.
"Oh, Dr. C texted me." You nudge him back just a bit so you can change. Giving him a dose of his own medicine as he suddenly whips around to give you privacy. The red tinge on his ears made you grin. Sweet, sweet revenge. "We've got all the permits. We're just waiting to plan around weather."
"Oh, so we're back on for the dig?" You hear him rustling around too and assume he's getting changed. Crashing on the couch for some stupid soap opera would be good for the both of you. You finish changing and turn around, while he does the same. He's in simple lounge clothes, but he's still a work of art himself. Ears still tinted red, relief and relaxation flooding his frame with the successful albeit short talk out of the way. You cross the room, still wearing the necklace he gave you. His eyes flick to it, before looking back to you. You meet him in the middle, wrapping your arms around him again as he kisses your head.
"It's only a matter of time."
"Good." Rafayel hummed. "Oh, and about that perfume? Don't bother getting one. It's on me. They'll be sending me one anyway. Who was it that liked wearing perfume so much?" He looked down, his hand steady on your back. "Yenn, something?"
"Yennifer. The others have other memories attached." Just saying one of their names out loud made a bittersweet twinge hit you. Rafayel watched your face fall, but before you could fall deeper he caught you. He held you close, kissing you, assuring you he was there.
"You miss them, huh? All of them?"
"More than I thought I ever could."
Rafayel fell quiet. Thinking. He was wracking his brain, trying to find something to say in response. But you never could've anticipated what he said.
