in the eventide
it’s a foolish promise that brings rafayel back to the shore again and again. just how much longer until you, too, come back?
contents: rafayel/reader, angst, longing, indication of his lore. wc: 440
when rafayel returns to the surface, it is simply one peaceful night belonging to the unforgotten and the unforeseen. a number of similar nights have passed, like a slow downstream rafayel would mindlessly float in. these are but a mediocrity, often drowning in the workings of his young yet enthusiastic mind. however, just like every other evening, rafayel still returns again and again with the hope that this time, this night, it would be different.
the languor of today got to him before anything else, and before he knew it, his tail began its drive, taking him up and up. even the quail of the protective reefs didn’t stop his ascent, and soon the darker teal of the deep waters lightened with the remaining rays of dusk. rafayel is not supposed to be swimming away this late. he’s certain even the sea is calling him back home, just as his mother soon would.
though he never pays mind to that.
the waves quietly bring him to the sandy shore. alongside him, only the land and sea-like critters indulge in the balmy breeze of a summer long slipped past fingers. the hot season used to keep him lodged in its maw, unwilling to let go — and the pantheon seas had become more of a volcano, leaving young rafayel to wonder when the heat would cool for once.
now, with its maw no longer tight, rafayel is thrilled to welcome the colder seasons.
what hasn’t changed despite everything is his will and that deep longing thrumming upon a seed of reunion planted many moons ago.
a promise — one, only rafayel had kept to this day.
unfortunately.
it’s the same this time: you didn’t come.
yet again.
rafayel gently brings a washed-up jellyfish back to the waters in his cupped hands. it floats away, lulled by the waves, not sensing the ache that soon engulfs him whole.
his lips tremble as his eyes clench tight.
rafayel suddenly wishes he were as brain-dead as a jellyfish — perhaps then only would he be free from this pain, of a longing that thirsted for its quell. one last look at the cooling sands, and he dives right back into the now shimmering waves. a lighthouse guides his way back to the deeper waters. he turns around just as the moon peeks from behind darkened clouds.
it’s lonely, incredibly so.
many excuses linger in the salty air, as if trying to calm rafayel’s own qualms. but he knows what is happening — to him, to you. he fears you have forgotten about him. and perhaps, as rafayel begins to trace back to his home, you may already have.
went to a beach recently, and this was all i could think about. i am so sad. please, someone kiss the fishie and let him know everything will be okay (´-ι_-｀)
