(1/2) Reverend Loew owns a cat. Or the cat owns him. Or it just came with the interior as he took over the rectory. It's not exactly a house cat. It comes and goes as it pleases and often hunts shrews in the garden. The previous reverend when asked about it just shrugged. So Henoch lovingly calls it Mr. Mewhisstopurrless, short Hissto. It looks a bit like the cat from Last Unicorn but all black and refusing the peg leg and eyepatch. It is very dominant about owning the house and garden.
(2/2) So at the like 20th of their 40 “not-dates” at Henoch’s house, the reverend is in the kitchen and Raphael, probably awkwardly waits on the sofa in the living room. When suddenly that cat (Raphael has never seen before) strolls into the living room, hops on the armchair next to the sofa, like it owns the place. It is about to lay down when it notices the intruder and jumps over to the sofa, beginning to scrutinize Raphael and possibly sit down on his lap.
A cat.
That was all his brain supplied when this littlemonstrosity came in.
Coping with Henoch’s continued presence andattention was difficult enough, but now… it turns out he owns acat.
A cat!
Raphael was not good with cats. Or cats were notgood with him. Either way: Meeting one was not usually a pleasantoccurrence.
And now there was that… cat. Half-blind from allhe could see… MASSIVE and most likely a tomcat, with that big headof his. The all-black fiend merely had white whiskers, which wereentirely too long and in seemingly eternal movement.
It seemed to have a BEARD as well!
It – he – generally looked like it had seenbetter days. Did not actually fit to Henoch, if he looked at how itturned itself on the armchair and half-clawed into the cushion witheach tread.
Kind of an magnificent beast: Too big for a‘normal’ cat. Somewhat feral? It had a dangerous feeling to it.
… and it seemed like it did not like to bewatched. Even in it’s half-blind state, it noticed the intruderstaring and aborted all movement.
The noise that was emitted from the creaturewas… interesting? Raphael was not sure how it was even able to makea noise like that. It was decidedly proactive and intimidating, butneither threatening nor pleased.
It felt a little bit like plucking a wrong cordand sticking with it.
Impressive, but unnerving.
It also LOOKED at him.
And then… jumped over from the armchair.
Not very fast. It simply jumped. And then walkedover with it’s treading claw-paws.
It was very good at ignoring Raphael’s hand at theside of it’s lap. The hand did nothing to prevent the cat fromgingerly stepping onto him and laying down.
Just like that.
Now a ball of… wirey cat laid on him.
There were muscles to be felt and scratchy hair.
When Raphael moved his hand over the fur, thewrong-cord-sound was back, but tipped over to a slightly off-soundingpurr.
Who would have guessed.
This cat had no sanguine temper towards him. Amiracle.
He had always imagined cat-fur to be softer,especially since there was so MUCH of it, but… no. It felt a lotlike straw.
Ah, as long as the cat enjoyed the contact, hewould not complain.
There weren’t even claws lodged in his leg, just acat body laying on it’s side… on top of his legs, making somewhatotherworldly noises and looking around with half-seeing, almostdemonic eyes.
Jepp. Sounds good.
Very good.
He called over to the next room: “Reverend? Iactually think your cat LIKES me”, which was a first. That was a good sign, right?!
Not by reverend Loew. No, that was not it, not really, but...
The situation in general felt like it was made to ridicule him.
First off... the operation, of course, was done without any difficulty. As beautifully tinted his skin was, he wasn't fazed by it. His job could not afford to be affected by emotions, however strange the were. So this was not the ridiculous thing.
No, it was simply... well... after the meeting, he of course banished any kind of thought of attachment, as far fetched as it had been from the very beginning, since he was a priest and that meant...
That was obviously not something his subconscious was at all accepting. His brain actually fabricated dreams that were... something he would like to have had as a teenager, would have felt a little more normal like that. Sure, it was not straight-up-R-rated, but close enough.
Was that normal as a teenager? He somewhat felt compassion for his former class mates in this moment. Until he remembered that he was an adult man with control over himself.
At least usually. Now his mind constantly wandered to places it was not supposed to wander. If there had been at least a slight chance, sure. But a priest?
Just... no. It was a dead end street and he did not even want to start thinking about things like this. So he simply huffed at the thought since he really thought it was annoying. Good.
But... after the operation... they talked again. And... he sat there, in the bed. And looked worried. And under his blanket AND clothes – another thing he did not want to be made aware of in front of unattainable, terribly attractive beings.
This was such a horrendous thing to think, too. He was not thinking first of a friendship, or how nice it was to be around him, no, this man was just too attractive. And nice to talk to, as he now knew... his questioning had been well-founded and fact based. Quick on making the knowledge his own... also was capable of making Raphael feel less than terrible if he put his foot in his mouth.
It didn't make him LESS attractive, though. Just ALSO friend material. Really. Not making it better at all.
When he then put the clothes down again and looked Raphael dead in the eye and said: “You shaved my crotch!”, the surgeon just stood and stared for a moment. Somewhat mortified. Somewhat torn between 'I wish I had', 'Why are you doing this to me?!' and 'Why do I turn into a teenager'. And also just warmly amused about it, actually wanting to laugh.
All of those reactions, unfortunately, were not ones he could actually voice. So he settled for “Pardon?” and a steady stand.
The priest thought for a moment and then shrugged: “Well... it IS shaved. As far as I can see. And you are the surgeon, so that is the right conclusion to draw, right?”
… right. Some people had a somewhat 'off' reaction towards anesthetics.
So he was an.... 'adorable' drunk... just... perfect with helping my problem, right? Right.
“While this is true, Reverend... I still did not actually shave any part of you: The scalpel is meant to cut flesh, not hair... the nurses already done this”, if it was better to be shaved by a female was not clear, but... well...
For some reason, he looked disappointed for a moment. And then his face lit up again: “Ooooh, right! Quph! My nurse. Oh dear. And that after I married her, oh my oh my”, his face scrunched up slightly, but he looked mostly fond.
The sentence didn't make much sense, though... he, as a priest, was not married to anyone. And as far as he knew...
“... Quph has a girlfriend, Reverend, so I don't actually think...”, most likely, he mixed something up, there.
“Huh? Oh no! It was a wonderful ceremony! Aphan... that IS her girlfriend... was just about lovely. Both in very light purple and just amazingly beautiful and... they do love each other. Care about them a lot”, he smiled contently.
Same sex marriage in Great Britain was illegal. It was not... official?
“They married in your church?”, just questioning...
“Yes, yes, they married in my church”, happily answering...
“... two girls married one another in your church?”, to be perfectly certain they were on the same page...
“Well, yes. It is not legally binding, but they had a ceremony in the church, their parents loved it and it was very beautiful, yes”, by the look on Reverend Loew's face, it must have been truly beautiful.
“... this is rather different? So... the condition to marry is...”
“... oh, you must love one another!”, he made a small break, then added: “And be human”, by the look on his face this time around Raphael did not want to know. It disappeared soon enough, replaced by a smile directed at him.
“Sooo... anyone can marry anyone?”
“Yes, as long as they love and cheerish one another. Yes”
“Even the priests can do that?”, he blinked. Asking the question alone was something of a bad idea already.
“Well, of course! It would be a great example, too”, and he smiled like the sunshine.
And that... that definitely made this whole situation completely ridiculous. Everything was ridiculous.
“... good to know. Ah... but... about your actual problem... if you are feeling strange, that is simply a side-effect of the anesthetics. It will pass soon. Are there any... questions? Are you generally alright?”, he must be... usually the patients spoke what was on their mind when they reacted like that.
He did have questions, though. Quite a few. Not all related to his medical status, but it was definitely enjoyable to talk with him. Which... still did not help at all.
And so, it ended with: “I'm sure Quph misses you... we have a chapel here. It rarely can host a sermon, though... how about it?”
… if he had not been drugged up, Raphael had not asked. This was entirely obnoxious... but... he still wrote him a note after he had cheerfully agreed.
Nothing out of the ordinary – an inflammation caused it to swell, cooling packs were considered useless, it needed to be removed. Operation with a periscope was entirely possible.
An uncomplicated procedure he'd done over a hundred of times and never had any trouble with.
Of course, that did not mean a patient that needed to undergo the procedure would feel safe before it happened.
So that was why Raphael Israfil, resident surgeon, had been called to a patient for a talk. They had requested it. It was still somewhat unusual that the surgeon was requested. He was not too good at talking to people.
But here he was, walking through the door, taking a last glance at the patient file to at least know the name, which was... ah yes.
„Good afternoon, Mr. Loew, I am Raphael Israfil, the operating surgeon tomorrow and here to answer any questions you might... have...“, this pause hadn't been planned. Thankfully, Raphael's face was schooled to be mostly expressionless, but that pause couldn't have been prevented.
It... simply... didn't happen too often that someone appeared in front of you that was exactly 'your type'. He hadn't even been aware that he'd HAD a type up to then. Much less that it was decidedly male, apparently. But here he was. Sitting down on the chair next to the bed, while the man nervously pointed at it with a... nervous smile.
Raphael did everything he could to shove the word 'adorable' from the forefront of his mind. And put on a professional smile. He was very glad he had so much practice with that. His smile would be more nervous than his otherwise.
Unfortunately for different reasons: „Ah. Well. Yes. I... actually wanted to see the surgeon who will... cut me open tomorrow“, he did sound uneasy, also looked like it, rubbing at the cross in his hand. Had he disturbed him mid-prayer? O-oh!
„... well... actually, there will be only three very tiny cuts. 'Open' is actually a bit of an exaggeration. Or are you... concerned for... different reasons?”, he might have looked at the cross a bit too obviously, since he grew conscious of it himself and put it back around his neck.
The smile Mr Loew showed then had reminded Raphael much of his own: professional, practised, never doubting.
“Ahah. No. Not for that one, at least. No. I always saw doctors as the answer to our prayers to save our lives. Priests can not go that obviously against their belief now, can they?”, he pulled his long, black, shiny hair up over the band holding the cross.
… he should not have had this kind of description in his head.
Yes. Priest. He'd read that before. He IS a priest. Right. Right.
“That is true. And? Now that you've seen me? Could I do God's work tomorrow?”, he should actually, honestly, truly THINK before he said ANYTHING. This... what the hell was wrong today!
Raphael still smiled. Saving face, somewhat. It was a stupid joke? Polite and things?
Two raised eyebrows looked back at him, but he smirked back, somewhat: “I did say I wanted to just see you, didn't I? Well. I firmly believe you are one of God's fine creations”, he chuckled himself, shaking his head, “... as is every human. But... I think it would be better if you explained tomorrows procedure a bit more detailed than this flyer here does anyways, just to give me a better feeling...”, he waved the paper a bit at him and put it on the bed next to him.
… at least he hadn't reacted with anger... right?
“But of course, please, I'm ready to answer any question”, with that, Raphael could relax a little and deal with familiar territory. It... went a lot smoother when he could concentrate on the paper. The explanations were trained and something he knew by heart. And so the meeting ended on a professional note. Perfectly reasonable and with him thanking the surgeon. It sounded sincere, too.
He might have not completely ruined his image there.
They would talk after the operation the next day. He'd wanted a full narcosis.
