33 | Mainly She-pronouns but I'll respond to pretty much anything | I'm just a giant, walking '?'| Fanfiction Author | Artist | Artblog: Dragonslairofart | None of my works are allowed to be reposted or used for any reason without my knowledge or permission.
I know today is rough. I'm going through it too. Still, I'm not going to give up hope until we hear directly from Infold. The silence is probably necessary on so many fronts. My rage demands a clear explanation and communication plan moving forward as soon as they are cleared by their legal team to speak.
In the mean time, I'm going to keep creating and using #bringbackvalko and #justiceforvalko on everything LaDs related I do.
For the crocheters out there, I'm working on a pattern:
I have never put this much energy into a pattern before. Lmao
Imagine that you help both of them through their toughest times- Zayne and an Evol flare that freezes his skin in black ice and chills the very air you breathe in; Raf on Ebb Day when his body burns both physically and with desire- and you do so without hesitation. You love them. It comes so naturally, like breathing. There is never a question in your mind on whether or not they earned it because your love was never a bargaining chip in this relationship.
They hurt. You soothed.
But years of societal pressure, years of silent abuse and perceptions of womanhood, has made you hesitant to ask for help in return.
The first time your period struck after the relationship started, left you crying and curled up in your own bed, hugging a stuffie to your chest while you waited for the pain meds to finally kick in. You drifted. You lost energy during this time and staying awake was more difficult. This meant you missed several texts and calls from both of them.
A cool hand touched your forehead and it woke you gently from your sleep. Zayne stood above you, checking your pulse with one hand while working as an ice pack with the other. It felt good. Your eyes burned a bit and there was a mild throbbing in your head.
"How are you feeling, darling," he asked softly.
"Like hell." You snuggled deeper into the stuffie to hide your face. Zayne frowned.
"Is it your cycle?" Slowly, you nodded. "I see. Is this your first day?"
"Hmmm second," you admitted. "Second is always worst than first."
"I see you took some medicine. How long ago was that?"
"This morning."
"Then you should be due for another round." He gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "Rafayel is bringing you some water and light food...." Your face must have betrayed your confusion because he asked, "Are you alright?"
"You both came for me," you asked incrediously. Zayne adjusted his glasses.
"Of course we did," he huffed a bit amused, caressing your face. "You are in pain. While we can't take it from you, we can do everything in our power to help you."
"But... it's gross."
He huffed. "Sweetheart, I'm a surgeon and Rafayel is a Lumerian. They love fully, remember." He kissed your forhead ruefully. When he backed up, he said, "But even if we weren't those things, we would still help you because we love you. Nothing you or your body does will ever make you unworthy of our affections." It must have been the hormones, but hearing him speaking to you so softly and lovingly made tears appear in your eyes. Zayne stroked your hair.
"I thought we were here to help, not make her cry." You looked up. Standing in the doorway, mildly amused with a tray of food in one hand, was Rafayel. You sat up and wiped your eyes. He sat on the opposite side of the bed and placed the tray carefully in your lap.
"Of course we are," Zayne returned just as amused, "but we could blink and make her cry right now through no fault of her own." You chuckled at the absurdity of the thought. Rafayel now stroked your hair.
"Eat cutie and then we can cuddle."
"After you take your medicine," Zayne huffed. Their banter was soft, but lively, and you could tell that they were only doing it to keep you smiling and off the thought of your pain. When the food was cleared and medicine taken, the three of you curled up onto your bed, you snug between the two of them. Zayne carefully hovered his hand over your face and let his evol soothe your heated flesh. Rafayel did the same, but his hand sat heavy on the lower part of your belly, heating and relaxing the over stimulated muscles and the offending organ. They carefully massaged your aches. You cried again. Relief this time.
Warm, comfortable, and protected, you nuzzled into Rafayel's neck, kissing the skin there softly before turning kissing Zayne's chin. Satisfied, you readjusted yourself and let sleep carry you away.
*****
Author's note: I love them your honor. ✋️😫
I tried editing but as I too am currently suffering from my own period, I beg for your mercy for any errors.
She didn't know exactly why, but in the back of her mind, memories of light blue scales shining like scattered diamonds on flush, feverish skin were tormenting her.
The first time she had caught Rafayel in distress for Ebb Day, she was so concerned and wary about everything that she barely took notice.
The second time, though? Rafayel had trusted her in taking care of him, letting himself rest comfortably against her chest and sleep through the Lemurian fever until the morning. She had stayed awake the whole night, too busy checking his temperature to sleep… and that gave her the chance to look closely at his scales.
They were so pretty, reflecting the moonlight that peeked through the curtains, and sensitive too. Every time her fingertips had carefully brushed over them, a quiet, vulnerable sound escaped from his lips and made her heart squeeze inside her chest.
She scolded herself too many times to count.
What kind of person admired beauty born from someone else’s pain?
Also, Rafayel seemed very reserved and shy about the Lemurian features he always kept hidden... so she didn't even try to ask about them.
But those small patches of rough, cool skin that was so different from human skin were so fascinating to her that-
“Cutie?”
Blinking out of her daze, she sat up straight on the couch and her cheeks flushed red from the embarrassment when Rafayel chuckled, amused.
“You got your pretty head in the clouds for this whole time...” he teased her affectionately as he reached out to ruffle her hair and then a small pout tugged at his pink lips.
“What were you thinking of?”
She bit the inner of her cheek and looked away from his indigo eyes for a moment. If she made up an excuse, Rafayel would figure it out and give her hell until she gave in...
So was this the chance she was waiting for?
“Can you sit down, please?” Reaching out, her fingers curled around his wrist and gently tugged him closer.
Rafayel gave her a quizzical expression but indulged her without hesitation, taking a seat next to her.
“What is it, cutie?”
“I was thinking about Ebb Day...” she confessed and paused briefly to come up with a way to approach the topic with caution. Because she saw the way his shoulders instinctively squared at the mention of it, and his silence spoke louder than words.
“I'm sorry if this sounds weird, but... your scales. They were so pretty and I'd like to- of course, if you want to... I'd like to see them again.”
Blabbering her thoughts out loud was more embarrassing than she could ever imagine, and she wasn’t even sure if her quiet, flustered tone made anything comprehensible for Rafayel since his face remained blank.
The silence stretched between them in such an unfamiliar way that the fear of having crossed a boundary made her scramble for an apology.
“I didn’t mean to- I’m so sorry, Raf… It wasn’t my intention to-”
It took him a minute to register her request and make sense of it.
Rafayel hadn’t expected any of this.
Since his feet had touched the wet sand of the shore and shaking from weakness, they had made him mourn his tail, he had believed that he was bound to keep his Lemurian features hidden for the rest of his life.
He learned the hard way that humans found them weird and disgusting, proof of belonging to an inferior race, something that could be fascinating only in a taxidermic shrine.
But in her eyes he saw genuine curiosity, he found the same affection that always greeted him whenever their eyes met.
“I didn’t expect a cutie like you could be into these kinds of things.”
He huffed a joke but the way the tips of his ears burned a bright red gave away how flustered he felt in appearing vulnerable like that again.
Before she could bolt away from utter embarrassment, Rafayel took her hand in his and intertwined their fingers together.
She understood what he meant to convey through the sweet gesture, and she let out a long sigh.
This time the silence was useful for both of them to recover from the awkwardness.
Rafayel mulled over her request while he stared at their hands clasped together, resting between their thighs.
This time would be different from what happened when Ebb Day arrived.
He wouldn’t lose control but willingly let himself be seen.
And their bond -their sincere and reciprocal love- gave him the strength to allow it.
He was hers completely, after all.
She didn’t even realise what was happening, because she barely managed to calm her racing heart.
When she raised her head to look at Rafayel and tell him that it was alright, that he didn’t need to indulge her if it made him uncomfortable… she saw them.
Light blue scales contrasted beautifully against his pale complexion. They were scattered over his high cheekbones, along the tendons of his neck and a few shone under the opened neckline of his shirt.
Unconsciously, she leaned forward and before her mind could catch up with her instinct, her lips kissed the patches of rough, Lemurian skin on his cheek.
No flinching.
No hesitation.
Just warmth that spread through his chest like fire from that small contact.
“Ah… never wasting the chance to take advantage of me...” Rafayel complained, his voice low and rough, trembling with emotion.
His arms latched around her waist to keep her close, and he couldn’t resist leaning against her when she chuckled softly and continued kissing his scales with gentle, reverent pecks.
“Can’t help myself… my boyfriend is truly handsome,” she whispered sweet praises to thank Rafayel for the trust.
“Of course I am… and also kind and generous-”
“Mh mh…” humming in agreement, she hugged him back and threaded her fingers through the short hair on his nape, her thumb brushing against the scales on the side of his neck.
They fell back onto the couch’s cushions.
But she didn’t mind getting pinned by his body weight.
Holding Rafayel close to her, she spent the whole evening spoiling him with kisses and loving caresses just to hear his quiet, contented sighs.
As I wrote in the comments below @vixenofthemist's post, I recently played Rafayel's “Rising Tides” memory card and I absolutely adored it!
It was a perfect continuation of “Ebb and Flow” and evolution of his and MC's relationship during this particular period in which Rafayel is the most vulnerable. The tenderness and trust in letting himself be taken care of was heartwarming, and I was planning to write a review about the memory card... when I found her post!
She gave me the inspiration to write this small oneshot for you. I hope that this realises the idea you were struggling to formulate into a fic, and that you can enjoy it. 🥰
[If you're interested in reading more of my works, you can go check my masterlist!]
The music room conversation stayed with you longer than you wanted.
No matter how much you tried to push it away, Sirena's words lingered. Disappear. The word followed you home. It sat quietly beside you during dinner when you barely touched your food. It followed you into your room where the evening light spilled across the floor in long shadows. It stayed when you stood in front of the mirror much later that night, fingers resting against the seashell necklace around your neck.
You stared at your reflection.
The necklace had never left your neck since the day he gave it to you. Not once. Not even now.
Your fingers curled around the shell.
You remembered that evening. The golden sunset. The sound of waves. The way he had called your name just when you were about to leave.
Oh, Y/N? Here.
The necklace resting in his palm.
It's just a gift.
A lie. It was never just a gift. You know that now. Perhaps you had always known. Your eyes lowered. The reflection staring back looked unfamiliar somehow, like someone who had been holding a shape for so long they had forgotten what the original looked like.
The Sea God's bride's necklace.
You whispered it softly. The words felt strange in your mouth. Because it never belonged to you. Not really.
Your hand tightened around the shell.
Rafayel belonged beside someone like Sirena. Someone who matched his world. Someone who could stand beside him without hesitation, without apology, without a countdown quietly running in the background.
A bitter smile formed without your permission.
You had been selfish. You had wanted something that was never yours to keep, had held onto it anyway because it felt too much like warmth to let go of.
Your hand moved slowly toward your phone resting on the desk. You stared at his name for a long time. Your thumb hovered over the screen. Once you did this, there would be no taking it back.
The call rang once. Twice.
He picked up immediately.
“Y/N?"
The sound of his voice nearly shattered your resolve.
He sounded relieved. Genuinely, openly relieved, like he had been waiting for this without admitting it.
You closed your eyes.
“…Can we meet?"
He instantly responded, “Where?"
The sky was beginning to turn gold when you arrived.
The cliffside path overlooking the sea stretched ahead, bathed in evening light. Waves rolled endlessly below, their rhythm steady and indifferent against the rocks.
This place.
You used to come here together. Back when things were simple. Back when Rafayel was only Rafayel, and you were just you, and nothing beyond that needed explaining.
The wind moved gently around you as you stood near the edge of the stone path, fingers finding the necklace at your throat without thinking. You held it tightly, as if letting go now would somehow hurt less later.
Footsteps approached from behind. Fast. Familiar.
You didn't need to turn.
“Y/N."
His voice reached you first. Warm. Slightly breathless, like he had come quickly and hadn't wanted to slow down.
Your fingers tightened. You hated this. Hated how just hearing him still made your heart react like nothing had changed. You turned slightly.
Rafayel stood a few steps away, sunlight falling behind him exactly like it had that day at the classroom window months ago.
He smiled.
“You called me," he said softly as he walked closer. “I thought you were planning to avoid me forever."
The smile stayed. But only for a second.
Because you didn't answer. The silence stretched. His steps slowed. The expression on his face changed, concern replacing relief quietly and completely.
“…Y/N?"
The ocean wind passed between you. You looked toward the horizon. Because looking at him felt impossible.
“What happened?" His voice was quieter now. Careful. Still gentle. Still him.
Your eyes lowered. The shell felt unbearably heavy against your skin. You inhaled slowly and prepared to break both your hearts. The wind felt colder today.
“I don't think we should see each other anymore."
A sudden drop of emotion in Rafayel’s face hurted you even more.
The ocean below continued moving, unaware.
Rafayel stared at you.
“…What?"
Your hands trembled slightly. You hid them behind your back.
“Our paths are different."
“No."
The answer came immediately. Sharp.
You finally looked at him.
His expression had already changed. Confusion. Disbelief. Something that looked frightfully close to fear.
“No," he repeated, quieter this time. "What happened? Why are you saying this?"
“Nothing happened."
“Then why are you saying this?"
You lowered your gaze.
Because I'm dying. Because I don't have enough time. Because I love you too much to stay.
Instead you said: “This is how it should be."
His brows knit together.
“What does that even mean?"
You reached toward your neck.
His eyes followed immediately, dropping to your collar, to the seashell resting there. The one he gave you. The one you never took off.
For a moment your hand stopped moving. Just for a second. The weight of it, the warmth of it, the memory of it pressed into your palm all at once.
Then you unclasped it.
Rafayel's expression faltered.
“…Y/N."
Your vision blurred. You stepped closer. Slowly. Carefully. Then took his hand, warm and familiar against your fingers, and opened his palm.
The necklace fell into it.
A single tear escaped before you could stop it. You looked at him. Really looked. The long lashes. The violet hair shifting in the wind. The face you had loved since childhood. The person you wished you had more time with.
“…The heir of the Sea God. Your highness,"
Rafayel froze.
Your voice had changed. Formal. Distant. Like a wall had quietly appeared between you and you had been the one to build it.
“The land and the sea were never meant to meet." His hand closed around the necklace. “Nor were they destined to remain together." His breathing had become uneven now. “Our paths differ."
“Stop."
“And this is the way it should be."
“No." The word cracked this time. “You don't mean that."
You smiled. Small. Broken.
“Goodbye, Rafayel."
You turned.
“Y/N."
You kept walking.
“Y/N!"
His footsteps moved. You heard them. But you didn't stop.
Because if you did, you would run back. You would tell him everything. You would choose him.
And you couldn't. Not anymore.
Behind you, his voice came again. Lower now. Almost desperate.
“…Please."
Your steps nearly faltered.
Nearly. But you kept walking. The ocean wind swallowed the silence between you. It was the first time you left him behind.
By the time you reached home, your body was shaking. Each breath burned. Your hands wouldn't stop trembling. You barely made it through the door. The room spun. Your knees hit the floor first. Then a violent cough tore through your chest, and blood spilled across your hand. Warm. More than before. Another cough. More red against the floor. Your breathing broke. You pressed a hand over your mouth, eyes stinging, the taste of iron settling on your tongue.
You had not wanted him to see this. Had not wanted his last memory of you to be this, crumpled and breaking, everything you had tried to hide from him was finally visible.
Your body collapsed fully against the cold floor, cheek against the tiles. Your vision blurred. Tears slipped quietly down. You closed your eyes.
It's over.
The thought came softly.
This is how it should have been from the beginning.
Far away on the cliff overlooking the horizon, Rafayel still stood there, your necklace in his hand, unable to understand why it felt like he had just lost something he could never get back.
The ocean kept moving. Waves rose and fell beneath the cliff exactly as they always had. The wind still carried salt through the evening air. The horizon remained endless and untouched and indifferent.
But Rafayel stood motionless. Your footsteps had long disappeared. The sound of your voice had already faded into the wind. Yet he still hadn't moved.
The necklace rested in his palm. Cold. Light. Impossible. His fingers slowly closed around it.
The land and the sea were never meant to meet.
No. That wasn't right. You wouldn't say something like that. Not you. Not the person who smiled at him on the beach, who kept the necklace every single day, whose eyes looked like they wanted to cry while saying goodbye.
“…Why?"
The word left him quietly, already broken before it finished forming.
The wind carried it away. He looked down at the shell again. You had returned it. You had really returned it. The thing he had placed into your hand with every feeling he hadn't yet found the words for.
His hand tightened. The edge pressed into his skin. Still he didn't loosen his grip. Because letting go of this felt too close to letting go of you, and he wasn't ready for that. Maybe he never would be.
By the time he returned home, the sky had already darkened.
The palace halls were quieter at night, soft lights glowing against marble walls, servants moving silently through distant corridors.
The front doors opened.
“Rafayel?"
His mother appeared almost immediately, as if she had been listening for the sound of his return. Her expression softened the moment she saw him. Then it stopped softening, because something was wrong. Very wrong.
His shoulders looked too heavy. His eyes were empty in a way that went deeper than exhaustion. And his hand was still clenched around something.
“…Honey?" She walked closer. “What happened?"
Rafayel looked up. For a moment he said nothing. Then his fingers opened.
The necklace lay in his palm. Her eyes widened slightly.
“…She gave it back."
The words came out quietly, like he was still trying to understand them himself.
His mother froze.
“She said…" his voice faltered. “She said the land and sea weren't meant to meet."
His mother's expression changed. Not confusion. Pain. The kind of pain that comes from understanding something too well.
Because she knew what that necklace meant. What returning it meant.
“She called me the heir of the Sea God."
The title sounded foreign in his mouth. Cold. Distant. Like something that belonged to someone else.
“She didn't call me Rafayel."
His voice lowered.
“She looked at me like…" He stopped. His throat tightened. “Like she had already left."
His mother moved closer immediately.
“Rafayel—"
“I don't understand!"
The words finally broke.
He looked up at her, and for the first time since childhood, the frustration and anger had drained out of him completely, leaving only something raw and unguarded underneath, in the way that only happens when something you were certain of suddenly isn't there anymore.
“I don't know what I did wrong."
His breathing shook.
“I tried to find her. I tried talking to her. I kept waiting and she kept disappearing and now she says this and I—"
His voice cracked.
“I don't know what to do anymore."
Silence filled the room.
His mother stepped forward without hesitation and pulled him into her arms.
Rafayel froze.
Then slowly, he leaned into it. Like he was finally too tired to hold himself upright.
“She returned it mother," he whispered against her shoulder. The words sounded smaller now, fragile in a way he would never have allowed himself to be in front of anyone else. “You told me to give it to the person I wanted to spend my life with. But she gave it back."
His mother closed her eyes. Her hand moved gently through his hair, steady and slow, the way it had when he was young and the world was smaller.
“You love her very much."
It wasn't a question.
He laughed quietly. A broken sound.
“…More than I know what to do with."
The footsteps echoed down the hall. The Sea God stood near the entrance. He had heard. His gaze moved to the necklace. Then to Rafayel.
“…Father."
The word sounded tired. The Sea God remained silent for a long moment. Long enough for the tension to settle into something that wasn't quite confrontation.
Then quietly: “What happened?"
Rafayel looked down.
“She ended it. She returned the necklace."
His father looked at him. Really looked. At the exhaustion. The grief. The way Rafayel’s hands still refused to release the shell. His expression softened. Because this was no childish attachment. No passing feeling. This was a loss. Real loss. The kind that changes the shape of a person.
“Rafayel."
His voice was quieter than usual.
“You should rest."
Rafayel laughed again, a small and hollow sound.
“I can't."
The answer came immediately. He looked toward the window, toward the sea beyond the glass, dark and endless.
“She cried."
The room stilled.
His mother looked up.
“She cried when she gave it back." His grip tightened around the shell. “So why did she leave?"
No one answered.
Because no one knew.
The answer came a few weeks later.
By accident.
A conversation overheard in the corridor, two servants speaking in low voices near the east hall.
“…Poor child…Y/N"
“…Rare illness…"
“…Hospital…"
Rafayel stopped walking.
Everything went silent.
“…What?"
The servants froze. Their faces drained immediately.
“My lord—"
“Who?"
His voice had become very quiet. Very still. The kind of quiet that has nothing calm about it.
“Who are you talking about?"
No answer came.
Rafayel stepped closer.
“Tell me."
The older servant lowered her head.
“…Y/N."
The world stopped.
“She collapsed weeks ago," the servant continued, voice barely above a whisper. “She has been receiving treatment."
Treatment.
“The doctors…" The servant hesitated, glancing at the other before looking down again. “They said there is no cure."
The words didn't register. Couldn't.
Because if that were true, then every moment, every distance, every goodbye she had given him hadn't been about Sirena. Hadn't been about duty or destiny or the difference between their worlds.
She had been protecting him.
From knowing.
From watching.
From having to stay.
His chest cracked open around the realization.
All that time he had spent searching for her, frustrated and confused and quietly heartbroken, she had been carrying this alone. Choosing to carry it alone. Choosing him, in the only way she thought she still could.
He was already moving before the thought finished forming.
The room had grown quieter over the weeks.
Not because fewer people came, but because everyone had started speaking softer. The doctors no longer discussed possibilities in front of the door. Nurses adjusted blankets with careful hands and gentler smiles. Your parents sat closer now and no longer left the room for long, as if stepping away for even a moment might mean missing something irreplaceable.
The afternoon light filtered through the curtains in pale gold.
Your mother sat beside the bed, holding your hand between both of hers. Your father stood near the window, shoulders turned away, one hand pressed flat against the glass as though the coolness of it was the only thing keeping him steady. You could tell from the stillness of him, from the way he hadn't moved in nearly an hour, that he was listening to every breath. He crossed the room slowly and sat down beside your mother without a word, his hand finding hers, both of them holding on to each other the way people do when there is nothing left to hold onto but each other.
Your breathing has grown weaker over the last few days. Long pauses between each one. Shorter words when you spoke. Even lifting your hand felt strangely difficult, like the distance between intention and movement had quietly widened without asking.
And yet your body felt light. Oddly, gently light. As though the ache that had lived inside you for months was slowly loosening its hold. People said that happened near the end. Those things became quieter. Calmer. Like the body finally giving itself permission to rest.
Your eyes drifted toward the sky beyond the window.
It was beautiful today.
You smiled faintly.
Your mother's fingers tightened immediately.
“Sweetheart… I love you so much"
Her voice trembled around the edges.
You turned slightly. She was trying not to cry. She had been trying for days, holding herself together with the kind of careful effort that only made it more visible.
You wanted to tell her it was okay. That you weren't afraid anymore. That the lightness was real.
But another wave moved through you, and you closed your eyes briefly.
The room blurred.
Footsteps. Voices. Someone moving quickly.
Then the door opened. Fast.
“Y/N!"
Your eyes widened slightly.
Rafayel.
He stood in the doorway breathing unevenly, hair disheveled, eyes already red as though he had been running far longer than the hospital halls required. He crossed the room immediately. He fell to his knees beside the bed.
“No."
The word broke as it left him.
“No, no—"
His hand found yours instantly. Cold. His fingers shook around it.
“You can't leave."
Your eyes softened.
Ah.
So even he could cry.
The boy who always stood in sunlight. The one who smiled first. The one who had always looked warm enough to hold entire summers inside him.
Tears did not belong on his face.
And yet there they were. One after another, quiet and undone.
He reached into his pocket with trembling hands. The seashell necklace. The one you had returned. His fingers fumbled with the clasp.
“You gave this back," he whispered, his voice barely holding. “I don't care."
“I don't care."
Carefully, almost reverently, he placed it back around your neck.
The shell settled against your skin once more. Where it had always belonged.
Rafayel pressed your hand close against his face, eyes shut, shoulders trembling.
“Listen to me."
His voice shook but held.
“I choose you."
The words filled the room. Clear. Certain.
“I don't care about titles. I don't care about duty. I don't care what anyone says anymore."
More tears slipped down.
“I love you."
The confession came too late, and he knew it. The knowing was written into every line of his face.
“I love only you."
Your fingers moved weakly. Barely. But enough to brush against his hand.
His head lifted immediately.
“I'll fix everything," he said, the words coming faster now, as if speaking quickly enough could stop time from moving. “I'll end the engagement. I'll tell them everything. I'll make it right."
His voice cracked again.
“I'll make you my bride. You'll stand beside me. You'll be the most cherished person in Lumeria."
His breathing shook.
“The most loved."
His forehead came to rest against your hand.
“So please."
The plea shattered quietly.
“Please stay."
Silence filled the room.
Your mother had turned away. Your father lowered his head. The sunlight had begun its slow retreat from the walls.
You looked at him. Really looked. The violet hair. The trembling lashes. The tears he had never let anyone else see.
In this final moment, you did not want to let go either.
Your fingers tried to hold his hand more tightly. There was almost no strength left. But you tried.
“…Rafayel…"
He looked up immediately.
“I'm here."
Your voice had grown soft, like something carried a long way by the wind.
“I'm sorry."
His expression broke.
“No."
Tears fell harder.
“I'm sorry, Rafayel." Your eyes blurred. “I kept leaving. I made you cry."
His head shook desperately.
“You didn't."
“I hurt you."
“You didn't." His voice was trembling now. “This isn't your fault."
You smiled faintly. A tear slipped free.
The room had grown warm somehow. Or perhaps that was just the feeling of no longer being afraid.
Your fingers moved slowly to the shell at your neck. Then returned the necklace to his hand, pressing it into his palm one last time.
With what remained, you spoke.
“Rafayel…"
Your breathing faltered softly between the words.
“In this life… I could not remain beside you."
His hand tightened around yours immediately.
“So hear my vow." The room went still. “In whatever life comes after this… if fate allows us to meet again…"
Your voice trembled.
“I will not leave."
He was crying openly now, without trying to stop it.
“I will walk beside you." Another breath. “For every season. For every tide. For as long as eternity remembers our names."
Your tears slipped free.
“I will love you."
His forehead pressed against your hand.
“And I swear back."
His voice came apart gently.
“I swear it." He looked at you through everything. “In this life. The next. And every life after. I will find you."
His hand trembled.
“I will choose you."
More tears.
“Only you."
Your eyes softened. You nodded with a smile.
The world felt far away now. The room. The light. The sound of the machine. Everything gentled, like a tide pulling back slowly, quietly, without drama.
Your hand weakened. Slowly. Quietly. Beginning to slip.
Rafayel held it tighter immediately.
“No." His voice broke. “No, stay—"
Your lips moved one last time. Very softly.
“I love you Rafayel… I never had enough courage.. to say it out loud. Thank you….for….every…..thing…."
Your eyes closed. Your smile faded. The warmth began to fade.
Rafayel froze.
“Y/N?"
Silence.
His grip tightened.
“Y/N?"
Nothing.
He pulled your hand to his chest, as if he could keep warmth there. As if holding tighter would change something.
“Please."
The word barely came out.
He bowed forward, shoulders shaking, still holding your hand, still refusing to let go.
Rafayel did not move.
The room had become impossibly still. The evening light had faded into soft twilight, painting the walls in pale blue shadow. The flowers by the window stood quietly, their petals beginning to droop, carrying the last traces of color into the darkening room.
Everyone had stepped back.
Your parents stood near the doorway now, grief written silently into every line of their faces.
But Rafayel remained where he was. Beside you. Still holding your hand. As if letting go would make this real in a way he wasn't ready for.
His eyes stayed on you. On the peaceful expression that had replaced pain. On the face he had known since childhood. The face he had searched for in crowds. The person he had loved long before he understood what love was.
He looked at you again. One last time.
Tears slipped quietly down.
His voice came out barely above a whisper.
“....This is my vow to you."
The room fell silent.
“My bride."
The title broke as it left him. Not because he doubted it. Because he had been too late to say it while it still mattered.
“There will be no one else."
His hand tightened around yours.
“Not in this life." His shoulders trembled. “Not in the next. Not in any life after that."
He lowered his head briefly, eyes shut, as though committing every memory of you into something eternal.
“The sea may forget its tides. The stars may lose their names. But I will remember you."
He lifted your hand carefully, holding it against his forehead.
“I will find you."
A long silence.
“I swear it."
Your parents had begun crying quietly behind him.
Rafayel did not turn. Because all that existed in his world now was you.
He gently settled the necklace once more against your collarbone. Careful. Reverent. Like handling something sacred. The shell rested there peacefully. Exactly where it belonged.
“This belongs to you…. It always has been.”
His fingertips lingered. Then slowly withdrew.
“…You know," he whispered, his voice unsteady, “you always looked beautiful wearing it."
A broken smile appeared. Small. Fragile.
“The first day you wore it to school…" He laughed quietly through tears. “I thought my heart would stop."
His eyes lowered.
“You thanked me." Another pause. “And I lied." His smile faded. “It was never just a gift."
He looked at your hand still resting in his. Your fingers no longer moved. No warmth returned his touch.
Yet he held on.
“…You promised me eternity." His voice cracked. “So don't forget. Alright Y/N?"
The words came like a plea.
“Don't forget me."
Rafayel stood slowly. He looked lost. Like he no longer knew where to place his hands, where to look, how to breathe in a room that still held the shape of you.
Then he leaned forward for the last time. Resting his forehead lightly against yours. Eyes closed. No words. Only silence. Only grief.
He kissed your forehead and your lips.
When he finally stepped back, his eyes lingered on you one last time. Memorizing. Keeping. Refusing to lose even this.
"…Goodbye, my beloved bride." he whispered.
Three years had passed.
Lumeria had changed.
The white stone towers standing along the cliffs had been restored. The palace overlooking the sea had grown busier. Ceremonies returned. The people spoke often of prosperity, of the future, of the long-awaited day that would finally arrive.
The day the heir would ascend. The day Rafayel would become the Sea God.
Three years.
And still, there was a room in the palace no one touched. A room facing the sea. Filled with dried flowers. Books. Small gifts. Seashells gathered inside glass jars. And at the center, a single framed photograph. Your smile caught beneath summer sunlight. No one entered without permission. Not even the servants.
Because everyone knew.
The Sea God's heir had never forgotten. And he never will.
The day of the coronation arrived beneath a silver-blue sky.
The entire capital of Lumeria had gathered. The temple stood above the ocean cliffs, carved into white stone and adorned with flowing banners that moved with the sea wind. Hundreds filled the lower steps. Nobles. Priests. Families. Children sitting on their parents' shoulders to witness history.
Today the heir would rise.
Rafayel stood at the highest platform overlooking the sea.
The ceremonial robes fell around him in layers of white and deep blue embroidered with silver thread. His hair moved gently in the ocean wind.
He looked older now. Older in the kind of quiet that grief carves into a person when they stop fighting it and simply carry it.
His father stood opposite him. The current Sea God. The ceremony had already begun, ancient words echoing through the temple while the sea below responded, waves rising, light gathering across the water. His mother stood nearby. Her eyes were already wet. Because she remembered another promise. Another future. One that never came. The Sea God lifted the ceremonial staff.
“Rafayel."
His voice carried across the temple.
“You stand before Lumeria as heir. Today, you inherit its tides. You inherit its protection."
Light began gathering around the altar.
“And today—" His father looked at him. Really looked at him, as his son, not as an heir. “You become its god."
The sea erupted.
Light rose from the ocean itself, blue currents wrapping around Rafayel, ancient power moving through the temple like breath. The people lowered their heads.
Rafayel's eyes drifted.
To the empty place beside him. Where a bride should have stood. Every Sea God before him had taken one. Every ceremony had been completed with two vows. Sea and his beloved.
Yet beside him, only wind.
The final vow remained. The High Priest stepped forward.
“Your Majesty. The Sea God shall now call forth the one who stands beside his eternity."
Silence spread through the temple. The nobles looked toward the ceremonial space beside him.
Empty.
Whispers moved through the crowd. The priest hesitated.
“…Your Majesty?"
Rafayel lifted his head. The ocean behind him stretched endlessly. His gaze remained fixed on the horizon.
Then quietly:
“There will be no bride."
The temple froze. The wind itself seemed to still.
“Your Majesty—"
“There will never be another."
His voice remained calm, but every word carried the weight of something long decided.
“I have already chosen."
His father closed his eyes. His mother lowered her head. Because they knew. Everyone in the palace knew. The Sea God of Lumeria had loved only one person .
“My heart," he said quietly, “was given long ago."
The ocean moved.
“As was my vow."
The wind strengthened. His eyes lifted toward the sky. Toward somewhere impossibly far.
“Lumeria's Sea God shall never take another bride."
The words echoed across the temple.
“My love belonged to one person."
His voice softened into something heartbreakingly human.
He whispered it to himself, to the wind, to the sea, to wherever you were.
“To you. Y/N"
The waves crashed below.
“I could not keep you. But I will keep loving you." His eyes lowered. “In this life. The next. And every tide after."
Tears slipped quietly down his mother's face.
Rafayel lowered his head.
Then he felt it.
Warmth. Soft. Familiar. The kind that lives only inside old memories and refuses to fully leave.
His eyes shifted. He lifted his head.
The empty space beside him was no longer empty.
You stood there. The way you should have always been.
Sunlight poured around you like gold. A white gown flowed softly in the ocean breeze, light as sea foam against the temple stone. Small white flowers rested atop your hair like a crown woven by spring itself.
The seashell necklace lay against your collarbone.
Where it belonged.
You looked exactly as he had imagined countless times. Exactly as he had dreamed. Exactly as he had lost.
His breath caught.
Your eyes curved gently. You smiled. Like the way you always smiled at him.
“Your highness,"
The sound reached him like a memory carried by the sea.
His eyes trembled.
You stepped closer, light following every movement, the wind playing with the edge of your gown.Then softly, you looked up at him.
"I shall always walk the path you take. Like I promised."
“Don’t call me that… My name… Rafayel..”
You smiled, “Rafayel, I will always be with you.”
And then the vision faded. Gently. Like sunlight moving behind a cloud.
Rafayel reached out his hand yet he couldn’t hold on to anything.
Rafayel stepped toward the edge of the temple.
The sea stretched beneath him. Wind moving endlessly over blue water.
“You promised me," he whispered.
The words dissolved into the wind.
“You said you'd come back."
His eyes closed.
For the first time since that day, he smiled. Small. Soft. Painfully gentle.
“So I'll wait."
The ocean answered him. Wave after wave. Endless. As though the sea itself carried his vow forward across lifetimes, across every tide that had ever come and gone and come again. The Sea God of Lumeria stood before an endless ocean. Yet his heart had never belonged to the sea. It belonged to only one person.
The sea had always belonged to him. And you had always known you never would.
Rafayel was never meant to be yours — not really. He was something greater, something distant. The heir to the Sea God, the future of Lumeria… while you were nothing more than a presence at his side. A childhood friend. Someone to fill the silence when the tides were calm and the world asked nothing of him.
You should have kept your distance.
Maybe then it wouldn't have come to this.
Maybe then you wouldn't be here, held so tightly in his arms as if he could still keep you from slipping away.
Your body felt cold.
"…Stay with me… please."
His voice trembled, fragile in a way you had never heard before. Rafayel, who had always stood unshaken against the pull of the ocean, was breaking.
Your vision blurred, the edges of the world dissolving into pale light and shadow. You tried to focus on him, on the way his hands refused to let you go, on the way his voice kept calling your name as if it alone could tether you here.
But you couldn't hear it anymore.
Only the faint echo of it remained.
A warmth touched your face. Soft. Unfamiliar.
Tears.
Ah…
So even he could cry.
You had always known this would never work. That there was a line between you, one you were never meant to cross. And yet, you stayed. You had always stayed.
Now, as the sea roared somewhere far away and his voice faded into nothing…
You wondered if loving him had always been leading you here.
The last bell rang, its sharp echo dissolving into the low hum of students packing their bags and scraping chairs against the floor. Sunlight poured through the tall classroom windows in long, golden streaks, catching dust in the air and turning it into something almost dreamlike.
You lingered. Not because you had anything left to do, but because leaving meant stepping back into everything you had been trying not to think about.
The ocean.
Him.
A soft tap broke through your thoughts.
You frowned slightly, glancing toward the window.
Another tap. More deliberate this time.
And then you saw him.
Rafayel stood just outside, half-balanced against the outer ledge like gravity was more of a suggestion than a rule. His fingers drummed idly against the glass, completely unfazed by the height, the rules, or the fact that anyone could see him.
Of course he didn't care.
Sunlight spilled behind him, outlining his figure in a soft glow, the ocean stretching endlessly in the distance like it had followed him here.
Waiting.
You exhaled, already walking over.
The window slid open with a quiet creak.
"What are you doing here?" you asked, though there was no real weight behind the question. More habit than anything.
Rafayel tilted his head slightly, studying you like the answer should've been obvious.
"Waiting," he said simply.
"For me?"
A small pause.
"…Who else?"
You stared at him for a moment, then shook your head, resting your arm against the window frame.
"You know you're the heir to the Sea God, right?" you said, your tone flattening just slightly. "People have expectations. Responsibilities. You're not exactly supposed to be climbing school buildings."
He blinked. Then shrugged. Completely unbothered.
"They'll live."
"That's not the point."
"It kind of is."
You narrowed your eyes at him, but he only smiled faintly, like this was nothing, like you were the one making it more complicated than it needed to be.
"You worry too much," he added, tapping the frame lightly. "It's boring."
"Being responsible isn't supposed to be exciting."
"Then I don't want it."
The answer came quickly. Easily.
Like he hadn't even thought about it.
Your chest tightened, just a little.
"Rafayel—"
"Come with me."
He cut you off without hesitation.
You paused.
"What?"
"The beach," he said, nodding toward the horizon behind him. "It's quiet today. No one's around."
"That doesn't mean you should be there either."
He leaned in slightly, resting his weight more firmly against the ledge, his gaze settling on yours with something softer now, something quieter.
"I asked you, not them."
There it was.
That subtle shift. Without command or demand. Just him, waiting the way he always did, like he already knew the answer but wanted to hear it from you anyway.
Waiting.
You hesitated longer than you meant to. Because you already knew how this went. You already knew you would say yes.
"…You're impossible," you muttered.
"And…. you're coming with me."
A beat.
"…I didn't say that."
"You opened the window."
"That's not—"
"You didn't close it either."
You let out a quiet breath, something between annoyance and resignation, but your hand was already reaching for your bag.
"That's not a valid argument," you said.
"It worked."
"…Barely."
He stepped back just enough to give you space, watching as you climbed out carefully, far more aware of the height than he ever seemed to be.
The moment your feet hit the ground beside him, the air felt different.
Warmer.
The breeze carried the scent of salt, soft and familiar, brushing past your skin like something welcoming you back.
Rafayel had already started walking.
Of course he had.
"Hey, at least wait," you called, quickening your steps to catch up.
"You're slow."
"I jumped out of a window."
"And I climbed."
"That's because I have common sense."
He glanced at you, the faintest hint of amusement flickering in his expression.
"Is that what that was?"
You resisted the urge to push him.
The path to the beach stretched ahead, winding gently downward, lined with patches of wild grass that swayed lazily in the breeze. The sound of the ocean grew louder with every step, not violent like before, not restless.
Steady and endless.
By the time the shoreline came into full view, the sunlight had softened, spilling across the water in shimmering waves of gold and blue. The horizon stretched impossibly far, clear and untouched, like the world ended there and began again.
You slowed slightly.
Even after all this time… it still did that to you.
Rafayel didn't stop.
He walked straight toward the water, like it was calling him.
Like it always had.
You watched him for a moment before following, the sand warm beneath your feet, the breeze wrapping around you both in quiet familiarity.
"…You come here a lot," you said.
It wasn't a question. He didn't turn.
"Yeah."
Another pause. Then, quieter:
"It's the only place that doesn't expect anything from me."
Your gaze dropped slightly.
"That's not true."
He finally stopped. But he didn't look at you. The waves rolled in, brushing just at the edge of his feet before pulling back again, like they knew him. Like they wouldn't dare take more than they were allowed.
"Out there," he said, nodding toward the horizon, "everything's already decided."
His voice was calm. Steady in the way that told you it had cost him something to say it.
"I don't get to choose anything."
The wind shifted slightly, lifting his hair just enough for the sunlight to catch in it.
"But here…" he added, softer now, "it's quiet."
The words lingered, carried off gently by the breeze, but something about them stayed with you.
You looked at him, really looked.
The sunlight fell across his face at just the right angle, catching against strands of his violet hair as they shifted with the wind. His lashes were long, casting faint shadows beneath his eyes, and for a moment, he didn't look like someone burdened by a future already decided for him.
He just looked like Rafayel. The boy you grew up with. The one who used to drag you into the water without warning, who laughed easily, who never seemed to belong to anything except the sea, and even then, only on his own terms.
The world felt quieter like this. Still. Like everything beyond this moment had paused, just long enough for you to breathe. Rafayel suddenly dropped down onto the sand.
You blinked, the spell breaking slightly as he brushed his hands off casually, like he hadn't just been saying something that felt far heavier than the afternoon sun deserved.
From his bag, he pulled out a small towel, worn at the edges and familiar, and placed it beside him with a small pat.
"There you go," he said, glancing up at you. "You can sit now."
You stared at him for a second. Then at the towel. Then back at him. A faint warmth crept up your face before you could stop it.
"…Thanks," you said, trying to sound normal as you sat down beside him, careful not to brush against his arm. "Acting like a gentleman, I see."
Rafayel turned to you slowly, his expression shifting into something that looked almost offended.
"I am always a gentleman," he said, as if the idea of anything else was absurd. "What are you talking about?"
You let out a small laugh, shaking your head.
"Oh, right. Of course. How could I forget? Climbing school buildings, skipping responsibilities — very refined behavior, your highness."
"That was efficient," he corrected immediately. "And you still came with me, so clearly it worked."
"That doesn't mean I approve."
"You didn't complain that much."
"I did complain."
"Sure sure."
You nudged his shoulder lightly, unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips.
"You're impossible."
"And you still showed up."
There it was again. That quiet certainty in his voice. Like he had never once doubted you would.
You looked away, your gaze drifting back to the ocean, watching as the waves rolled in and out in slow, steady patterns.
"…It's nice," you admitted after a moment.
"I know."
"You didn't even let me finish."
"I don't need to."
You glanced at him.
He was already looking at you. Not in a teasing or amusing way. Just watching.
"You like it here," he said.
It wasn't a question.
"…Yeah," you replied softly.
A small pause.
Then, "I like it when you're here too."
Your breath caught, just slightly. But Rafayel had already leaned back on his hands, tilting his head up toward the sky like he hadn't just said something that made your chest feel unbearably full all at once. You stared at him for a moment longer than you should have. Then quickly looked away. The warmth on your face didn't fade. He didn't notice, you told yourself. He couldn't have.
The two of you stayed there for a while after that, talking about nothing and everything all at once. Small things. Useless things. The kind of conversations that didn't matter, but somehow meant more than anything else.
He told you about a vendor who tried to overcharge him that morning. You told him about a classmate who fell asleep mid-lecture. He laughed, really laughed, and the sound carried over the waves, blending into the rhythm of the ocean like it belonged there.
Time slipped. Quietly. By the time the sun began to dip lower, painting the sky in soft shades of orange and gold, the breeze had cooled, and the beach felt different again.
Like the day was gently letting go.
"We should head back," you said, brushing sand from your hands as you stood.
Rafayel didn't argue.
He simply nodded and got up beside you, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
The walk back was slower. Not uncomfortable, just softer. Like both of you were holding onto the last pieces of something you didn't want to end just yet.
By the time you reached your house, the sky had darkened into a dusky blue, the first hints of evening settling in.
You turned to him, adjusting your bag slightly.
"…Thanks," you said. "For today."
Rafayel shrugged lightly.
"You came with me."
"That doesn't mean you didn't invite me."
"…See you tomorrow?" you asked.
The question slipped out more naturally than you expected.
Rafayel looked at you for a moment. Then nodded.
"Yeah."
Relief settled in your chest before you could stop it. You turned toward the door, reaching for the handle.
"Hey, Y/N."
You paused.
He didn't call your name often like that.
You turned back.
Rafayel was already stepping closer, one hand reaching into his pocket before pulling something out.
"Here," he said, his voice softer this time. He held it out to you.
A small necklace.
The chain was simple and thin, catching faintly in the dim light. But what drew your attention was the pendant — a white seashell, smooth and delicate, its surface reflecting just a hint of the fading sunlight.
You blinked.
"…What is this?"
"A gift."
"You don't just give people things without explaining."
"I do."
You looked up at him. He looked oddly calm about it.
"I was at the market the other day," he added after a second, glancing away briefly. "And I saw it."
Your fingers closed gently around the necklace as you took it from him.
"It reminded me of you."
Your heart stuttered.
"…Me?"
"Yeah."
He shrugged again, like it wasn't a big deal.
"It's white. Quiet. Doesn't stand out much at first, but…" he paused, then looked back at you. "It's still there. Even when the tide changes."
The words settled somewhere deep. You didn't know what to say to that. So instead, you smiled, small but real.
"…Thank you," you said softly.
Rafayel nodded once. And just like that, the moment shifted again, back to something lighter, easier, like it always did. You stepped back toward the door, holding the necklace carefully.
"I'll see you tomorrow," you said.
"Yeah," he replied.
You hesitated for just a second longer. Then turned and went inside. The door closed quietly behind you. And only then did you press your back against it, your fingers tightening slightly around the small seashell resting in your palm.
Morning came softly.
A pale wash of light slipped through your curtains, carrying with it the distant, familiar sound of waves. For a moment, you stayed in bed, staring at the ceiling, letting the quiet settle.
Then your fingers brushed against something cool at your collar.
The necklace.
You turned your head slightly, catching the faint glint of the white seashell resting just above your collarbone. Even in the soft morning light, it looked delicate. Achingly so.
Your chest tightened.
It reminded me of you.
You swallowed, quickly sitting up before your thoughts could wander any further.
A knock sounded at your door.
You didn't need to guess.
You slipped on your shoes and hurried out, opening the door.
And there he was. Rafayel leaned casually against a bike, one foot planted on the ground, the other resting on the pedal like he had all the time in the world. The morning sun sat behind him again, catching in his violet hair, turning the edges of it almost silver.
He looked annoyingly effortless.
"You're late," he said.
You blinked.
"I just woke up."
"Exactly."
You crossed your arms.
"…You know," you started, tilting your head slightly, "who knew Lumeria's future Sea God rides a bike to school?"
Rafayel raised a brow.
"What were you expecting? A procession?"
"Something with a little more dignity, maybe."
"It gets me there faster."
You sighed.
He held out a helmet toward you.
"Get on."
You hesitated for half a second. Then you took it. The ride was different.
The wind was stronger this time, rushing past you in steady waves as the bike moved through the quiet morning streets. You hesitated only briefly before holding onto him, your fingers lightly gripping the fabric at his back.
You told yourself it was just for balance. Nothing more.
Rafayel didn't say anything about it.
But you felt it — the slight shift in his posture. The way he steadied, almost imperceptibly, as if making himself something more solid for you to hold onto.
The school gates came into view sooner than you wanted. He slowed, pulling to a smooth stop just outside. Before you could move, he reached up and unfastened your helmet with practiced ease. His fingers brushed lightly against your jaw for just a moment, barely there, but enough to make your breath catch.
"There," he said.
You nodded, stepping off.
"…I'll see you later," he added.
"Yeah."
You turned slightly, adjusting your bag.
And that's when his gaze dropped.
To your neck. To the necklace. He stilled. For just a moment.
"…It looks beautiful."
Your heart skipped. You forced yourself to stay calm.
"Thanks," you replied, softer than you meant to.
Something unreadable flickered in his expression. But he didn't say anything else. He simply nodded once, then turned and rode off before the moment could stretch any further.
School felt normal. Almost painfully so. Classes blurred together, voices and chalk against the board and pages turning, but your mind drifted more than it should have. You caught yourself touching the necklace more than once. Each time, your chest tightened just a little.
By midday, the halls were louder, students spilling out between classes, conversations overlapping into a constant hum. You were halfway to your next class when:
"Well, well."
Your steps faltered. You didn't need to turn. You already knew.
Lia.
You exhaled slowly before facing her. She stood at the center of the hallway, arms crossed, her expression sharp and deliberate. The girls around her mirrored it, smug and expectant.
"I told you something before, didn't I?" Lia said, tilting her head slightly.
You stayed quiet.
"I told you," she continued, stepping closer, "to stay away from Rafayel."
A few students nearby slowed, sensing the tension.
"You do realize," she added, her voice rising just enough to carry, "that I'm going to be the next Sea God's bride, right?"
A small murmur spread through the hall. Your jaw tightened.
"You should know your place."
There it was. Clear. Cutting. You opened your mouth. But then one of the girls beside her leaned in slightly, eyes narrowing.
"Wait. What's that?"
Lia's gaze dropped.
To your neck. And everything changed. Her expression sharpened instantly.
"Where did you get that necklace?"
Her voice was louder now. Loud enough that nearby conversations stopped. You instinctively took a small step back.
"I—"
"That necklace," Lia cut in, stepping forward again, eyes locked onto it, "belongs to the Sea God's bride."
The hallway grew quieter.
"What?" someone whispered.
"It was gifted by the current Sea God," Lia continued, her voice rising with each word, "when they swore their lives to each other. There is no duplicate. No imitation."
Your stomach dropped. You hadn't known. You hadn't—
"Where did you get it?" she demanded again.
Your mind scrambled.
"Rafayel bought it from the market," you said quickly. "It's nothing like that."
Lia's expression twisted.
"Liar. Do you think I'm stupid?"
Before you could react, two of the girls grabbed your arms, holding you in place.
"Let go—"
Lia stepped closer, reaching for the necklace.
"Take it off."
"I said it's not—"
"Take it off!"
Her fingers were inches away.
"Get your hands off of her, Lia."
The voice cut through everything. Sharp. Cold. The grip on your arms loosened instantly.
Lia froze. Slowly, she turned.
Rafayel stood at the edge of the crowd. His expression wasn't loud. It was worse. The kind of quiet that made the air feel heavier just standing near it.
"…Ra… Rafayel," Lia stammered, her posture shifting immediately. "I was just—"
"I said," he repeated, stepping closer, "get your hands off of her."
The girls let go of you completely. You stumbled slightly, but Rafayel was already there, his hand catching your wrist gently.
"I was just worried," Lia rushed, her voice suddenly softer, "that your family heirloom was stolen. She's acting like she's something she's not and—"
"I gave her the necklace."
The room fell silent. Lia's face drained.
"…What?"
Rafayel's grip on your hand tightened slightly.
"I gave it to her," he repeated, his voice completely calm. "So if you have a problem with it, you can take it up with me, yeah?"
Lia's composure cracked.
"But… that's… Rafayel, that necklace is—"
"I know exactly what it is."
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.
"And she's still wearing it."
A pause.
"And clearly," he added, his gaze cutting sharply toward Lia, "she's worth more than someone who only knows how to chase a title."
A sharp inhale rippled through the crowd.
Lia's lips parted. But no words came out.
Rafayel didn't wait. He turned back to you, his expression shifting immediately, scanning you over quickly.
"…Are you hurt?"
You shook your head.
"I'm fine."
His gaze lingered for a second longer, just to be sure. Then he turned again.
"This is the last time," he said, his voice dropping, something darker settling into it now. "I see you around her."
Lia stiffened.
"I won't be generous next time."
The air felt heavier.
"I don't care if I'm the Sea God's heir or not," he continued, each word deliberate. "You don't get to cross that line."
No one moved nor spoke.
"Stay away from her. Understood?"
Rafayel didn't look back. He simply tightened his hold on your hand and started walking, pulling you gently through the parted crowd. No one stopped you. No one dared.
The noise slowly returned behind you, whispers rising in your wake, but it all felt distant. All you could feel was his hand around yours. Warm and steady. And somehow, that felt louder than everything else.
His hand didn't leave yours until you were far from the crowd.
Far enough that the whispers faded. Far enough that the tension in the air finally loosened its grip.
Only then did Rafayel slow down.
"…Are you hurt?"
His voice was quieter now. Careful in a way that felt different from his usual ease.
You shook your head. "No… I'm fine. Really."
He didn't look convinced. His gaze moved over you again, your arms, your shoulders, your face, like he was searching for something you might've missed.
"I'm okay," you repeated, softer this time.
He looked at your eyes. Then his shoulders eased, just slightly, like something in him had finally been permitted to let go.
"…Good."
The word came out almost like a breath he'd been holding in.
You stood there for a moment, neither of you moving. The space between you felt different now. Heavier than it had ever been, and yet somehow more honest.
You hesitated. Your fingers curled slightly against your palm, brushing the chain of the necklace again. You had to ask. Even if part of you didn't want the answer.
"…Rafayel."
He looked at you immediately.
"Why did you give me this?"
Your voice was steady at first, but softened as your fingers lightly touched the seashell pendant.
"If this really is the Sea God's bride's necklace… then you know what it means to give it to someone, right?"
The question hung between you. But Rafayel didn't hesitate.
"I know what it means."
Your breath caught.
“And I meant it that way."
Your heart stuttered. For a second, you couldn't speak. Couldn't move.
“…What?"
His grip on your hand shifted, firmer now, like he was grounding himself just as much as you.
“I meant it," he repeated, his voice quieter but more certain than anything he had said all day. "Not as a joke. Not as something small."
He stepped closer. Close enough that you could feel the warmth of him again. Close enough that it made everything harder to hold together.
“I…" he paused, and for the first time, you saw it. Hesitation. Real hesitation, settling into the lines of his expression like something he rarely allowed.
“I don't want you to just be my friend, Y/N."
Your chest tightened. The world seemed to narrow again, just you, him, and the space between what was about to change everything.
“I want more than that," he said, softer now. "I want you to stay beside me."
Beside him, as an equal, as a choice, standing where no one else had ever been asked to stand
“I want you to be the one I choose."
The words settled somewhere deep, somewhere you had kept carefully guarded for a long time. Because this was everything you had never allowed yourself to hope for. And that was exactly why it hurt. Your lips parted. But nothing came out.
“…Say something," he murmured.
You looked at him. Really looked at him. At the certainty in his eyes, the way he wasn't looking away this time, the way he was, for once, letting something go unsaid no longer.
And it terrified you.
“I don't belong in your world."
The words came out quieter than you expected. But they landed just the same.
Rafayel frowned immediately.
“What? Why would you—"
“You're the Sea God's heir," you continued, your voice tightening slightly. "Everything about your life is bigger, decided and important."
You shook your head.
“I'm not part of that."
“You are to me."
“That's not enough."
The silence that followed was sharp. Painfully sharp.
“Why not?" he asked, his voice lower now.
Because you knew. Because you had always known.
“…Because you deserve more than me."
His expression hardened.
“That's not your decision to make."
“It's not yours either."
“I'm the one asking."
“And I'm the one who has to live with the consequences too!"
Your voice broke, just slightly. You looked away, your grip tightening around the necklace like it might steady you.
“I…" you hesitated, your breath uneven. “I do feel the same way."
The confession slipped out before you could stop it.
“I just… don't know if I'm allowed to."
The air dropped to silence. Rafayel didn't speak right away. He didn't interrupt. He simply watched you, his expression open in a way you rarely got to see.
“…Take your time."
Your gaze lifted.
His expression had softened completely. He wasn't pushing. It wasn't demanding. Just present, steady, patient in a way that made your chest ache all over again.
“I'm not going anywhere," he said quietly. “So don't force yourself to answer right now. Think about it."
Something inside you came loose at that.
“…Okay," you whispered.
And for now, that was enough.
Rafayel didn't return home right away.
But the moment he did, his father spoke.
“Rafayel."
The voice echoed through the hall. Cold. Authoritative. The kind of voice that didn't need to be raised to fill a room entirely.
He stopped. Slowly turning.
The Sea God stood at the far end, unmoving, his presence alone enough to still the entire space.
"You've caused quite the scene today," he said. Not loud. But heavy, the way only certainty can be.
Rafayel didn't flinch.
“…If this is about the school—"
“It is about your behavior. Stop this nonsense."
The words landed like a command.
“I have already decided on your engagement partner."
Rafayel's breath caught.
“…What?"
“You will meet her tomorrow evening," the Sea God continued, unmoved. “Her family will join us for dinner."
The world seemed to tilt slightly.
“No."
The word came out sharper than expected.
“I already have someone."
The Sea God's gaze sharpened.
“…Someone?"
“Someone I actually care about."
The silence that followed was heavy. Dangerous.
“…Y/N?" the Sea God said, almost dismissively, like the name itself was barely worth the breath.
Rafayel's jaw tightened.
“She cannot be anything more than a friend." The words were final, measured, each one pressed down like a stone. “She doesn't belong in our world. She is insignificant to what you are meant to become."
“That's not your choice to make."
The air shifted. Something colder settled into it.
“You forget your place."
“I'm not the one who forgot," Rafayel shot back, his voice steady despite the tension coiling around him. “You're asking me to give up something I value for something I don’t want."
“I am asking you to fulfill your duty. You are the future of Lumeria."
“And I'm still a person."
The silence snapped tight. For a moment, it felt like the entire space held its breath.
Then Rafayel's gaze shifted.
“…Mother."
She had been there the entire time. Quietly watching from the edge of the room like she had learned long ago that waiting was its own kind of strength. Rafayel stepped toward her slightly, something softer breaking through the tension in his expression.
“What do you think?"
The Sea God's gaze followed, sharp. But she didn't flinch.
Instead, she walked forward slowly. Calmly. She stopped in front of Rafayel, and her eyes searched his, gentle and careful, the way only a mother's can be.
“…Do you like her?"
The question was simple. But it carried everything. Rafayel didn't hesitate.
“Yes."
Something in her expression softened.
“I thought so."
She reached up and brushed a strand of hair from his face, just like she used to when he was younger and the world hadn't yet decided so much for him.
“I agree," she said quietly. “She's a bright, wonderful girl."
The Sea God's expression darkened. But she continued anyway.
“The necklace I gave you," she added, her gaze steady now. “The one I told you to give only to the person you truly wish to spend your life with."
A small pause.
“You gave it to her?"
Rafayel's grip tightened slightly at his side.
“…Yes."
A soft smile touched her lips. Then she nodded.
“I understand."
The Sea God stepped forward. But she raised her hand slightly. Not defiant. Just firm, quiet in the way that had always been more difficult to argue against than anger.
“I will speak with you later, love," she said calmly, her gaze met his without fear.
The Sea God turned away. Not agreeing. But not arguing further.
For now.
Silence settled again once he was gone. Rafayel exhaled slowly, the tension finally slipping from his shoulders like something he had been carrying too long.
“…I'm sorry," he muttered.
She shook her head gently.
“Don't be."
Her hand rested lightly against his arm.
“You chose something important." Her voice softened further. “Keep reaching for what you value, Rafayel."
Something in his chest tightened.
Before he could stop himself, he pulled her into a hug.
To her, he was just her son. Not an heir or the future of anything. Just someone who didn't want to lose what mattered. She returned it without hesitation, her arms steady around him like they had always known how to hold the weight of who he was.
The halls had long fallen quiet. Only the distant echo of waves filled the silence now, drifting in through the open arches of the palace like a constant reminder of everything that stood beyond its walls.
The Sea God stood near the balcony, unmoving, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the ocean met the night sky. The earlier tension still lingered in the air, sharp and unspoken, the kind that doesn't dissolve so much as settle.
“…You're thinking too loudly."
Her voice came softly from behind him. He didn't turn immediately.
“You always say that love," he replied after a moment.
“And you always prove me right."
A faint hint of amusement threaded through her tone as she stepped beside him, the soft fabric of her robes brushing lightly against the stone floor. She followed his gaze out to the sea.
“…Rafayel is being reckless."
She smiled faintly.
“You were worse."
That earned her a glance. Brief, but telling.
“I was never irresponsible."
“Oh?" She raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. “Should I start listing examples, or have you decided to forget them conveniently?"
He exhaled, quieter this time.
“You encouraged them."
“I survived them," she corrected lightly. “There's a difference."
The tension eased, just slightly, like a tide pulling back before it decides what to do next. The Sea God looked back toward the horizon.
“He's the future of Lumeria," he said. “He doesn't have the luxury of choosing based on emotion."
“And yet…" she tilted her head, studying him, “that's exactly what you did."
“You forget," she continued, her voice softer now, “there was a time when I didn't belong here either."
His gaze flickered.
“I remember very clearly."
“Do you?" she asked, a gentle challenge beneath the warmth. “Because I seem to recall someone insisting, quite stubbornly, that I would."
A faint crease formed between his brows.
“You were different."
She smiled.
“That's not what you said back then."
He didn't respond. So she continued.
“You praised me," she said quietly, her eyes drifting to the waves below. “Over and over again. Said I was more than what this world expected of me." Her voice softened further. “You were the one who asked me to stand beside you."
The Sea God's expression shifted, just slightly. Something old and careful moving behind his eyes.
“…And you did."
“I did," she agreed.
A small pause. Then, gently:
“So why is it so hard to believe your son can do the same?"
The wind moved between them, carrying the scent of salt and something softer, something that belonged only to the two of them.
He was quiet for a long moment. Long enough that the ocean seemed to fill the silence for him.
“…Because I know what it costs."
Her gaze softened.
“Yes," she said. “So do I."
She stepped a little closer to him.
“But you also know what it gives."
“You taught me that."
The Sea God finally looked at her fully. He held out his hand and took hers.
“…He's not ready," he said, though there was less certainty in it now.
“He doesn't need to be," she replied. “Not yet."
A small smile touched her lips.
“He deserves the chance to figure that out before the world decides it for him."
The words settled slowly, carefully, like something finding the right place to rest.
“…There will still be dinner with them," the Sea God said after a while. A compromise wrapped in the language of duty. Her smile deepened slightly.
“I expected nothing less."
“It changes nothing about his responsibilities."
“It doesn't have to."
A beat. Then she added,
“But it might change how he carries them."
He exhaled. Not quite a sigh, but close enough to be one.
“…You always did this."
“Did what?"
“Turn arguments into something else."
She laughed softly.
“That's because you were always too serious."
“And you weren't?"
“Oh, I was," she said, nudging him just slightly with her shoulder. “Just not all the time."
A quiet settled between them again. Comfortable this time. Familiar, the way only years of choosing each other can make a silence feel.
“…He'll meet her tomorrow," the Sea God said.
“Yes."
“And after that…"
He didn't finish. He didn't need to.
She held his hand, not grand, not dramatic, just a simple and steady touch that had always meant more than anything louder could.
“After that," she said gently, “we'll see where his heart leads."
The Sea God didn't pull away. Didn't argue.
He simply stood there, her hand in his, as the ocean stretched endlessly before them.
And for the first time that night, the future didn't feel quite as fixed as it had before.
Dinner was already set by the time Rafayel entered the hall, the long table gleaming beneath soft chandelier light, every detail arranged with deliberate precision. The air carried a quiet kind of tension, polite and controlled but unmistakable. He could feel it the moment he stepped in, the weight of expectation settling over his shoulders like something familiar and unwelcome.
His father stood at the head of the table, composed as ever. His mother sat to the side, her presence softer, though her eyes briefly met Rafayel's the moment he entered, gentle and grounding.
“You're late," the Sea God said.
“Not by much," Rafayel replied evenly, taking his seat.
Before anything more could be said, the doors opened. Rafayel didn't look right away. He already knew what this was. Still, when he finally lifted his gaze, he took her in quietly, carefully. The girl from Linkon stepped inside with practiced grace, her posture straight, her expression calm but attentive. There was something undeniably refined about her, the kind of elegance that came from years of being taught exactly how to move, how to speak, how to exist in rooms like this.
Her parents followed just behind her.
“Thank you for inviting us," her father said.
“The honor is ours," the Sea God replied.
Introductions were exchanged, formal and precise and expected.
“Linkon has always maintained strong ties with Lumeria," her father continued as they took their seats. “We believe this union will only strengthen that connection."
Union. Rafayel's jaw tightened slightly, though his expression didn't change. His mother spoke then, her voice warm enough to soften the sharp edges of the conversation.
“It's been some time since we've had the pleasure of hosting guests from Linkon. We hope your stay will be comfortable."
“I'm certain it will be," the girl replied, her voice composed, her gaze briefly shifting to Rafayel. “Especially with such a welcoming company."
He inclined his head slightly. Polite. Measured.
“Welcome," he said.
The conversation flowed easily enough for everyone else. Trade agreements, coastal management, alliances, topics that filled the room with purpose but felt distant to him. Rafayel listened when required, responded when addressed, but his mind drifted more often than it stayed.
I don't belong in your world.
Your voice lingered. Unwelcome. Persistent.
“…Rafayel."
He blinked, pulling himself back. The girl was looking at him now.
“Are you enjoying the evening?" she asked. There was nothing accusatory in her tone, just quiet observation.
“Yes," he answered. A pause. “And you?"
Her lips curved slightly. "It's different from Linkon."
“How so?"
“The air feels lighter," she said, glancing toward the open arches where the ocean breeze slipped in, soft and steady. “Less structured."
Rafayel followed her gaze. “…It is," he said quietly.
Her eyes returned to him, sharper now.
“You seem….. distracted."
He didn't bother denying it.
“Just tired."
Not entirely untrue. She studied him for a second longer, then nodded slightly, accepting the answer without pressing further.
“I'll be transferring to your school," she said, placing her fork down neatly. “Starting tomorrow."
Of course. Rafayel's grip on his glass tightened just a fraction.
“I see."
“I was hoping you could show me around."
There it was. The expectation, carefully wrapped in politeness. He could feel his father's attention shifting toward him, quiet but heavy, waiting. Rafayel didn't look at her.
“…I can," he said. Because he had to.
Her smile softened, pleased but restrained.
“Thank you."
Across the table, his mother remained quiet, though her gaze lingered on him just a second longer than before.
“Rafayel has always been dependable," the Sea God added, his tone even but firm. “He understands what is expected of him."
Rafayel's jaw tightened again. Barely noticeable, but there. The girl glanced between them, perceptive enough to catch the subtle shift.
“That's reassuring," she said. “It makes things easier."
Easier.
The word echoed faintly. Rafayel's gaze dropped for a moment, his hand resting against the table, empty, though he could almost feel it still. The seashell. The slight tremor in your fingers when you took it. The way your voice had softened.
I do… I just don't know if I'm allowed to.
“…Rafayel?"
His mother's voice this time. Gentle. A reminder.
He exhaled quietly.
“Yes."
“Your guest asked about the school."
Right.
He looked back at her.
“My apologies."
“It's alright," she replied smoothly. “What is it like?"
He paused, then answered simply.
“It's normal."
A small smile touched her lips. “I suppose I'll find out tomorrow. I look forward to it."
Rafayel nodded. But his thoughts were already elsewhere again. Not here, not at this table, not in this room that felt carefully arranged to leave no space for anything real.
Dinner stretched on, conversation circling between formalities and expectations, every word measured, every glance intentional. Rafayel responded when necessary, spoke when addressed, but each passing moment only made the distance between his body and his thoughts more apparent.
By the time the final course was cleared, the tension had settled into something quieter, though no less present.
The guests stood. Gratitude was exchanged. Promises of future meetings followed.
“Tomorrow, then," her father said.
“Tomorrow," the Sea God confirmed.
The girl turned to Rafayel, her expression composed as ever.
“I'll see you at school." A small pause. “…Rafayel."
He met her gaze.
“Yeah."
She held it for a second longer, like she was trying to read something beneath the surface. Then she smiled and left.
The doors closed behind them with a soft, final sound. Silence followed. Not immediate, but inevitable.
Rafayel remained where he was for a moment, unmoving, his gaze drifting slowly toward the open arches at the far end of the hall. The ocean stretched beyond them, dark and endless.
“…You handled that well."
His mother's voice. Close. Gentle. He didn't look at her right away.
“…Did I?" he muttered.
She stepped beside him, her presence easing some of the tension he hadn't realized he was still holding.
“You tried," she said.
He let out a quiet breath. Across the room, his father stood still, watching but saying nothing. The message was already clear without words. This wasn't over. Not even close.
Rafayel's gaze remained on the horizon, the distant sound of waves filling the silence around him. But his thoughts weren't there. They were somewhere else entirely. At the edge of the beach, in the quiet space between your words and his, in the answer you hadn't given yet.
“…Tomorrow," he murmured under his breath.
Not about the school. Not about the girl. But about you. Because somehow, that was the only thing that actually mattered.
The morning felt off.
You noticed it the moment you stepped through the school gates, the way people were gathered in smaller clusters than usual, the way conversations dipped into quiet murmurs as you passed. Something had shifted.
Or maybe it was just you. Your fingers brushed unconsciously against the seashell resting at your collarbone.
Take your time.
His voice lingered in your mind from yesterday. You hadn't answered yet.
Rafayel stood near the courtyard, exactly where he usually did, sunlight catching faintly in his violet hair. For a split second, something in your chest lifted, instinctive and familiar.
You almost called his name.
Almost.
But then you noticed her.
Standing beside him. Close enough that the distance between them felt deliberate, like something already decided. She was beautiful. Effortlessly so. The kind of presence that drew attention without trying. Composed and elegant, like she belonged somewhere grander than this, somewhere that had nothing to do with you.
Your voice caught before it could even leave your lips.
Was she new? You had never seen her before.
Rafayel was talking, explaining something maybe, but you weren't listening anymore. The moment stretched just long enough for something uncomfortable to settle in your chest.
Then he looked up. His gaze found you instantly, the way it always did.
Neither of you moved. Then you turned away and walked. Fast enough that you didn't have to think about it.
“Rafayel …Could you show me the library?"
Sirena's voice was gentle, perfectly timed.
Rafayel didn't answer right away. His eyes were still fixed in the direction you had disappeared.
“…Rafayel?"
He blinked.
“…Yeah," he said, forcing his focus back. “The library's this way."
He started walking. But not before glancing back once more, just in case. You weren't there.
Avoiding him was easier than you expected. At least physically.
You changed your usual routes between classes, lingered longer in rooms you didn't need to stay in, left early when you could. Lunch became something you skipped entirely or spent alone somewhere quiet. After school, you went straight home, or anywhere that wasn't where he might be.
It worked. Mostly.
Except:
“Have you seen Y/N?"
His voice. Again. Closer than you expected. You froze slightly behind the corner of the hallway, just out of sight.
“…Are you looking for something?" Sirena asked, her tone light but curious.
“…Someone," Rafayel replied.
A small pause.
“I've been trying to find Y/N. She's my friend."
Friend.
The word settled heavier than it should have.
“I haven't seen her all week."
Your chest tightened.
“…Y/N?" Sirena repeated thoughtfully. “Is she close to you?"
Rafayel hesitated. Just for a second.
“…Yeah."
It wasn't elaborate. But it wasn't distant either.
“Then why don't you introduce her to me?" she continued. “Once we find her."
A beat.
“…Sure," he said, though it lacked its usual certainty.
“Where is she?"
“I don't know." That one came quieter. “She's not answering my texts. Or calls."
Silence followed.
Then Sirena's voice again, soft and measured.
“That's strange."
It was. You pressed your back lightly against the wall, eyes closing for just a second. Then turned and left again.
By the end of the week, it had become routine. You moved through the halls with careful precision, changing your path before he could appear at the end of it, slipping out of classrooms a beat before the crowd. And still, he kept looking.
The library was quiet. It always was. That was why you came here.
The tall white curtains near the far window shifted gently with the breeze, sunlight filtering through them in soft, diffused patterns. It was your spot, half-hidden and just out of view unless someone was specifically looking.
Which meant no one ever found you here.
“There you are."
Your breath stilled.
You didn't turn immediately.
“I've been looking for you."
His voice was closer now, close enough that ignoring it wasn't an option anymore. You exhaled slowly before finally facing him. Rafayel stood just a few steps away, his expression tight. He wasn't angry exactly, but something close to it, frustrated and relieved and confused all layered together in a way that made it difficult to look at him directly.
“…Why are you avoiding me?"
You shook your head lightly.
“I'm not."
A lie. A weak one. He didn't buy it.
“Y/N."
The way he said your name, low and firm, made your chest tighten.
“I haven't seen you all week," he continued. “You're not answering me. You keep disappearing every time I get close."
You looked away.
“That's not true."
“It is."
Your fingers curled slightly.
“…I was busy."
“With what?"
You didn't answer. Because you didn't have one. Because the truth sounded worse.
I didn't want to see you with her.
“…Y/N, I—"
Before he could finish, an arm slipped around his. Effortless. Natural.
“I finally found you."
Sirena stepped into view like she had been there the entire time, her presence soft but impossible to ignore. Her hand rested lightly against Rafayel's arm, her smile warm as her gaze shifted to you.
“You must be Y/N," she said.
You blinked, caught off guard.
“Rafayel has talked so much about you." Something in your chest twisted quietly. “You're his friend, right?" she added. “I was hoping we could be friends too."
You stared at her for a second.
“…Who are you?" you asked quietly. “I've never seen you before."
“Oh!" she smiled, as if she had just remembered. “I'm new. I just moved here."
“And I'm…" she tilted her head slightly, her tone still light, “well, you could say Rafayel's engaged partner."
The world stilled.
Engaged partner.
The words echoed, louder than anything else in the room. You felt it then, that sharp and quiet drop in your chest. Of course. This was how it was supposed to be. This was his world. Not yours. You knew that. You had always known that. But knowing it and hearing it said aloud, plainly, in the middle of a quiet library on an ordinary afternoon, were two entirely different things.
“…I see," you said softly. Your voice didn't break. You didn't let it.
“I'm sorry," you added quickly, stepping back slightly. “I have some assignments to finish."
You didn't look at Rafayel. Couldn't.
“I'll see you around."
And then you left, before anything else could be said.
“Y/N—"
Rafayel moved instantly. Then stopped just as quickly.
His hand lifted, then fell back to his side.
Sirena's grip on his arm remained light and unchanged.
“…Rafayel?" she called softly.
But he wasn't looking at her. His gaze stayed fixed on the empty space where you had been standing just seconds ago. And for the first time, he didn't know what to do.
Distance didn't happen all at once.
It slipped in quietly, between missed conversations, unanswered messages, moments that almost happened but didn't. At first, it felt temporary. Something that could be fixed with the right timing, the right words.
But the right moment never came. And you stopped waiting for it. You learned the rhythm of avoidance well, different hallways, different timings, different places to sit. You became careful. Intentional. Invisible. And eventually, you succeeded. You disappeared from his sight completely. But not from everything else.
“Did you see them this morning?"
“They look so good together."
“I heard they're already engaged."
“Of course they are. He's the Sea God's heir."
“She's perfect for him."
“Future Sea God's bride."
The words followed you. Never directly, never to your face, but they didn't need to be. They lingered in passing conversations, in hushed tones that weren't quite hushed enough, in glances that lasted just a second too long when you walked by.
You never heard those things when you were with him. Back then, it had just been Rafayel, the way he had always been before the world decided what he was supposed to be. Just him, and the beach, and the kind of quiet that didn't ask anything of either of you.
That was the difference. That was what made this hurt. Because this was how it was supposed to be. The correct version of things, the version where everything made sense, where expectations were met and no one stepped out of line.
Then why did it feel like something was breaking?
Your chest tightened as you walked through the courtyard, your gaze fixed ahead, refusing to drift toward the place you knew he often stood. You didn't look. You didn't slow. You kept walking, one step and then the next, like if you moved with enough purpose the ache might not catch up.
It did anyway. It always did.
Rafayel noticed. Of course he did. At first, it was small. A missed glance. An empty seat. A message left unanswered. Then it became everything. You weren't in the halls anymore. Not where you used to be, not at lunch, not after school, not at any of the places he knew by instinct you would go. It was like you had erased yourself. And no matter how much he searched, he couldn't find you.
“…You're not listening."
Sirena's voice pulled him back. He blinked, realizing they had stopped walking.
“…I am."
“You're not."
She wasn't accusing. Just stating it plainly, the way she always did. They stood near the school entrance, students passing around them in steady motion, voices blending into a distant hum.
“You've been distracted," she added, tilting her head slightly.
Rafayel exhaled quietly.
“I'm fine."
“You've said that before."
He didn't respond, because there wasn't anything to say that would make it true.
“…Is it her?" Sirena asked.
His gaze flickered.
“…Who?"
“Y/N."
The name landed too easily between them. Rafayel looked away.
“It’s just….I haven't seen her," he said.
“That's not what I asked."
Silence settled between them.
“She's your friend," Sirena continued. “You said so yourself."
His jaw tightened.
“…She is."
“Then why does it look like you've lost something?"
That made him pause. Because he had. He just didn't know how to say it out loud without it becoming something he couldn't take back.
“I've been trying to talk to her," he finally admitted. “She won't answer."
Sirena studied him for a moment.
“She's avoiding you."
“I noticed."
“Then why?"
Rafayel let out a quiet breath.
“I don't know."
But he had a feeling. And that feeling sat heavy in his chest, the kind of weight that didn't shift no matter how much he moved around it.
“I didn't ask for this," he muttered, almost to himself.
“For what?"
He didn't answer. Because the answer was everywhere. How Sirena walked beside him. How people looked at them. How your absence had somehow become louder than your presence ever was.
Sirena followed his gaze briefly, then looked back at him.
“…Sometimes things don't ask for permission," she said softly. “They just happen."
Rafayel's expression hardened slightly.
“That doesn't mean I have to accept them."
Her smile didn't fade. But it changed, just a little, something quieter moving behind it.
Weeks passed. Then a month. And you were still gone.
Once or twice in the halls you caught Lia watching. Not with the sharpness she had worn that day in the corridor, but with something quieter. Satisfied, almost, like a person who had planted something and was simply waiting to see it grow. She never approached you again. She didn't need to. Sirena's presence beside Rafayel said everything Lia had wanted to say, and said it louder.
The gym echoed with sharp sounds, shoes against polished floors, the bounce of balls, the instructor's whistle cutting through the air at intervals. You moved slower than usual. You have been, lately. You told yourself it was nothing. Just exhaustion, just stress, just the weight of everything you had been carrying without letting yourself name it.
“Pick up the pace," the instructor called.
You nodded faintly, pushing yourself forward. The world tilted slightly. You stopped. Just for a second. Your hand moved to your chest. Something felt off. A tightness that didn't belong, a heaviness that had nothing to do with effort. You inhaled. It didn't feel like enough.
“Hey, are you okay?"
Someone's voice. Distant, like it was coming from the other side of the water.
“I'm—"
A sharp cough tore through your throat. Then another. Then another, each one worse than the last until something warm hit your palm and you went very still.
Red.
For a second, no one moved. Then the room broke open all at once.
“Wait, what—"
“Is that—"
“Blood!"
The world blurred. Voices rose. Footsteps rushed toward you from every direction.
“Sit down, no, don't move—!"
Your knees gave out before you could react, and the ground came up fast.
The hospital smelled sterile. The steady beep of machines filled the space, mechanical and indifferent, marking time without caring whose it was. You stared at the ceiling. White and endless.
“…You're awake."
You turned your head slightly. The doctor stood nearby, his expression careful in a way that made your stomach settle low.
“How are you feeling?" he asked.
“…Fine," you murmured.
A lie. A weak one. He didn't challenge it.
Instead, he hesitated.
“We ran some tests."
Your fingers tightened slightly against the sheets.
“And?"
A pause. Long enough that your chest tightened again before he even spoke.
“It's a rare condition," he said finally. “Progressive."
The words felt clinical. Detached, like they belonged to someone else's chart.
“We've only seen a few cases like this."
Your throat felt dry.
“…Can it be treated?"
The silence that followed answered before he did.
“…There is no cure."
The words didn't register at first. Not fully.
“…What?"
“We can manage symptoms," he continued carefully. “Slow the progression, perhaps. But…"
He stopped. Because he didn't need to say the rest. You already understood.
“…How long?"
Your voice came out quieter than you expected. He didn't answer immediately. And that told you everything.
“…Around a year," he said finally. “A year, at most."
The world didn't shatter. It didn't collapse dramatically or fill with noise. It just went still, the way a held breath does right before it has to be released. The machine beside you beeped on. Steady. Unchanging. Indifferent to the fact that everything had just shifted.
A year.
Your fingers moved slowly, brushing against your collarbone, finding the necklace still there. Cool against your skin. Lighter than it had any right to be, given how heavy everything else suddenly felt.
You closed your eyes.
And for a long moment, you simply lay there, listening to a machine count out the seconds of a life that had just been quietly handed back to you with an expiration date attached.
The news didn't reach him gently.
It wasn't careful. It wasn't considerate. It came in fragments, whispers in hallways, a name spoken too quickly, the word blood repeated just enough times to make something in his chest snap tight.
“…Did you hear? In gym—"
“She just collapsed—"
“They said it was bad—"
“Hospital—"
Rafayel didn't wait to hear the rest.
By the time anyone realized he was gone, he was already halfway out the gates.
He couldn’t think straight. He didn't care who saw. The wind hit harder as he moved, sharp against his skin, but it wasn't enough to clear the noise in his head. Your name, over and over, louder than everything else.
Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't I notice? Where were you—
The hospital doors slid open too slowly.
Everything inside felt quiet in the way that only places of waiting ever are, controlled and hushed and somehow worse for it.
He didn't slow down.
“Room number?" the nurse called after him, but he was already moving down the hall, eyes scanning, breath uneven.
Until he found it.
The door stood slightly ajar.
And for the first time since he heard your name in that hallway, he hesitated. Just for a second. Then he pushed it open.
You were there.
Lying still against white sheets, the faint rise and fall of your chest the only sign that you were here. Alive.
Relief hit him first. Sharp and overwhelming. Then everything else followed close behind it.
Rafayel stepped inside quietly, the door closing behind him with a soft click. The room smelled sterile, the steady beep of a machine filling the silence in a way that felt mechanical and indifferent to everything he was feeling.
He moved closer slowly. Like if he went too fast, something would break.
The chair beside your bed scraped softly as he pulled it closer and sat down without taking his eyes off you. For a moment he just watched, taking in every detail he had missed. The paleness of your skin. The way your lashes rested still against your cheeks. The faint tension even in your sleep, like your body had forgotten how to rest properly.
His hand moved before he thought about it.
Carefully, he reached for yours.
Warm. But not warm enough.
“…You can't do this to me forever."
The words slipped out quieter than he intended, almost a whisper. But they carried everything. Frustration. Relief. Fear.
You stirred slightly. Your brows knit faintly, your fingers twitching just a little in his grasp.
“…Rafayel?"
Your voice was soft. Barely there. But it was enough.
He froze. Then leaned forward instantly.
“Y/N—" Relief flooded his voice, raw and unfiltered. “Are you alright? I didn't know. I was so worried. I should've—"
He stopped himself, exhaling unevenly.
“What happened?" His voice dropped. “Why are you here — what did the doctors say?"
You turned your head slightly, avoiding his gaze.
“It was nothing," you said. “Exhaustion. I pushed myself too hard in the gym and my body gave out. The doctors said I need rest."
The lie came out steadily. Practiced, almost, in the way that only something rehearsed inside your own chest can sound.
Rafayel looked at you for a long moment. He wanted to believe it. You could see that. The way his shoulders didn't fully ease, the way his eyes moved over your face searching for something to hold onto. He chose to hold onto the lie.
“…You should have told me you weren't feeling well," he said quietly.
“I'm fine," you said.
The same lie. But weaker this time.
“Don't say that," he said, the edge in his voice slipping through before he could stop it.
“It looked worse than it was."
His jaw tightened.
“Then look at me and say that."
You didn't.
And that told him everything, though not the right thing. Not yet.
“…Why are you doing this?" he asked, quieter now. The anger had drained out of him, leaving something rawer underneath. “Why are you pushing me away like this?"
Because it's easier. Because it hurts less. Because I don't have time.
The answers stayed in your chest. Heavy. Unspoken.
“…You shouldn't be here," you said instead.
Rafayel stared at you.
“…What?"
“You have other things to worry about," you continued, your voice steady despite the way your fingers curled tightly into the sheets. “Your future. Your responsibilities."
His expression hardened.
“And you're not part of that?"
You didn't answer. Because you couldn't.
“Y/N," he said, leaning closer again, his voice dropping. “Look at me."
You hesitated.
Then slowly, you did.
And that was his mistake.
Because the moment your eyes met his, he saw it. The distance. Something that looked almost like a decision already made.
“…You're not telling me something," he said.
You forced a small shake of your head.
“There's nothing to tell."
“Stop lying."
“I'm not."
“You are."
The tension snapped tight between you.
“Then why won't you let me help you?" he asked, the frustration bleeding through again. “Why won't you even let me stay?"
Because if you stay, I won't be able to leave.
Your chest tightened painfully.
“…Because you shouldn't," you whispered.
Rafayel's expression faltered.
“…That doesn't make any sense."
“It does," you said, your voice quieter now, sitting just at the edge of breaking. “You just don't want it to."
Silence. Long. Unbearable.
Then:
“…Is this about her?"
The question landed softly. But it hit.
Your fingers tightened.
“…No."
Another lie.
Rafayel exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair.
“She doesn't matter."
You let out a small, humorless breath.
“That's not what everyone else thinks."
“I don't care about everyone else."
“You should."
“I don't."
“You have to!"
Your voice rose, just slightly. Enough to make the machine beside you spike faintly.
Rafayel froze, his eyes darting to the monitor before returning to you.
You looked away again, breathing uneven.
“…You have a life already decided for you," you said, softer now. “You don't get to just ignore it because you feel like it."
“And you don't get to decide what I do with it."
“I'm not deciding," you whispered. “I'm accepting it."
“And I'm not."
The words came sharp. Immediate.
“…You should go," you said.
Rafayel didn't move.
“Y/N—"
“Please."
That made him stop. Not because he agreed. But because of how you said it. Quiet. Tired. Final. Like the word had taken the last of something from you just to get out. He stared at you for a long moment. Then slowly stood.
His hand lingered beside yours for just a second, like he wanted to reach for you again. But he didn't.
“…Alright," he said quietly.
He believed you, you told yourself as he left. He believed the exhaustion, the stress, the gym. He would go home and worry a little and then let it settle.
You closed your eyes. That was exactly what you needed. And it hurt more than anything.
You were discharged a few days later. You returned to school. Same halls. Same voices. Same rumors drifting through the air like they always had. Nothing had changed on the surface of things.
Only you had.
“Y/N."
You stopped. You didn't need to turn.
“…Sirena."
Her steps were light as she approached, her expression calm and almost pleasant, the kind of pleasant that meant she had already decided what she wanted to say before she said it.
“Can we talk?" she asked. “Alone."
You hesitated. Then nodded.
The music room was empty, as it always was at this hour. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows in warm columns, dust floating lazily through the beams, the faint scent of polished wood lingering in the quiet.
Sirena closed the door behind her. The click echoed, slightly too loud in the stillness.
She didn't waste time.
“You know Rafayel and I are promised to spend the rest of our lives together, right?"
Her voice was calm. Measured. Like she was stating something obvious and waiting patiently for you to catch up.
You didn't respond.
“I don't like going around things," she continued, stepping closer. “So I'll say this directly."
A pause. Her gaze sharpened slightly.
“I don't want you in his life. I don't want you in mine either."
Your fingers curled slightly at your sides. Still, you said nothing.
“I've heard about your condition," she added.
That made you look up. Just slightly.
Her expression didn't change, which somehow made it worse.
“Word travels through the right families," she said simply, her tone carrying no apology for it. “Lumeria keeps few secrets from those who matter."
“If it's true," she continued, her voice settling into something almost indifferent, “then that makes things easier."
Your chest tightened.
“…What?"
“You can stay quiet and stay out of the way." she said.
“Disappear."
The word landed in the room and stayed there. Sharp. Deliberate.
“Do you understand?"
The room felt colder. Smaller. Like the air had thinned without asking permission.
You stared at her. For a moment you couldn't speak. Because part of you agreed. That this was easier. That this was right. That this was how it should end.
“…I wasn't planning to stay," you said finally, your voice quieter than you intended.
Sirena watched you closely.
“…Good."
“Don't make this harder than it needs to be."
Silence settled again. Heavy. Unforgiving.
Your fingers moved slowly to your collarbone, brushing the seashell lightly. Cold. Still. Unchanging.
Something broken laid on the ground, shattered into a million unrecognisable pieces. Pink moulded into indigo blue. Streaks fluttering together until they sunk within marble.
"It looks like the universe broke apart." Soft wings fly.
His own voice replied static from the phone, "There you go cutie, you always inspire"
Rafayel's painting lay next to your feet. A beautiful mixture of pumping colour into glass vains — a realistic heart embedded inside a larger canvas. Now unfortunately, it was shattered.
"Rafayel.... I broke your heart..." You muttered trying to keep laughter from bubbling up.
"Owwiiee my pooor hearrrtt it hurtsss" He whines through the phone.
It was impossible for him to fix it in time. The clock ticking in no time at all straight into the grasp of critics. But, he could always remake it into a hundred different things.
Rafayel had decided to make it into a galaxy, just because his special cutie asked him too.
MagnoliainGold @magnoliaingold - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
