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rcvcgers · 2 months ago

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Loathe To Paint You, part three

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pairing ; rafayel x painter!reader

synopsis ; you and rafayel attend a carnival. he gets into competition with his ex's new boyfriend while you secure an invite with rhys.

word count ; 11.5k words

author's note ; hi all !! no major note this week :) i hope y'all enjoy the part!

content warning ; vulgar language , a kiss ooh la la , maybe a sex joke here and there , raf lowkey gets bullied lmfao

my painters ✐ᝰ. ; @zeskyzed , @drowsyapple , @llamabois , @romils , @debrahhhhhhh , @kebarney , @mentaltrouble2201 , @itsmeaudrieee , @flamedancer13 , @lolightrealm , @ghoulishnero , @leeniverse , @justpassingdontworry , @yumesagashite , @m0ss-gremlin , @yunozumi , @azlyneamie099 , @m00nchildwrites , @mxkvlio , @nautismgremlin , @jexireads , @rafshottestgf , @blcknebula , @eve-ishu , @namjoons-toenails , @kaiii07 , @imhere2dosomething , @vyntheria , @queenkymmie , @animegamerfox , @achilleas-dream , @beaconsxd , @butterbiscuit444 , @eolivy , @shypotatoes013-blog , @cayrelyra , @curryexpress , @needsumcomfypillowstosleep , @plzdonutpercieveme

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“He said that to you?!” Abigail’s voice booms throughout the tiny art studio.

You stand at the bathroom sink, modified so you can dunk your arms in without getting water everywhere, scrubbing the paint off of your hands and arms. You push the stained towel into your skin, scrubbing so hard you’re about to tear your skin off. Glaring at the very slowly disappearing blotches of paint you turn your head and look down the hallway while Abigail heads towards you.

“I know! The bitch said I’m like Sister Wives but with men,” you roll your eyes, aggravation already flooding right back into your body. "A fucking harem!"

You thought that by channeling your anger into a new painting would be helpful towards your artistic pursuits but the canvas ended up as one big blob, an unappealing blob mind you, that resembled a dead fish rather than the mermaid you were aiming for. The painting is as unappetizing as a plate of under seasoned and overcooked chicken, a plate filled with saltines and no glass of water to help it go down.

You turn back to your arms, your scrubs now much lighter and nicer towards your body, as you clean off the last of the dried paint. Bright yellows and oranges remain beneath your fingernails but you’re too tired to care about it, not in the mood to become fully presentable for Rafayel and whatever his dramatic antics have planned for tonight.

“Are you sure you want to go to the carnival with him? Maybe he can say that you’re sick and handle Rhys on his own,” Abigail enters the bathroom.

She holds earrings in her hands and brings them up to your ears, trying to see which one she likes best before settling on a nice pair that will compliment the dress she has for you. You swat away her hands, rolling your eyes as you step out of the bathroom. You storm down the hallway and she is quick to follow.

“I have to,” you say, groaning to yourself. You enter the office where a dress is laid out and begin to peel the dirty smock off of your body, tossing it onto the sheet of plastic Abigail has laid down. “If he goes on his own, I know he’ll somehow fuck it up for us. I have to be the reasonable one since he decided to put the drama queen crown on his head.”

“You two are like ticking time bombs whenever you’re together,” Abigail muses with a smile, already moving to help zip up the back of your dress. “It’s just a race to see who explodes first.”

“Ha ha ha,” you sound out your sarcastic laugh with another eye roll, fixing the dress’ skirt.

It stops halfway down your thighs and the fabric is light with a floral pattern. It’s simple, something that a regular person who is in love with an insufferable twat would wear. All you can do now is hope that Rafayel sticks with the plan and doesn’t change his clothes. You flatten out the skirt, grumbling obscenities to yourself about how you’re going to shove where the sun don’t shine if Rafayel fucks this up tonight.

“It’s going to be okay! I already asked Thomas to help reel Rafayel back after the scene he made today and he said that he’s going to slip one of his xanaxes into his drink before he goes,” Abigail smiles at you, handing you the pair of earrings from before.

“A xanax?” you raise an eyebrow, laughing as you put the earrings on. “I didn’t know working with Rafayel made him get to that point so early in his life.”

“I can’t help but feel bad for the guy,” Abigail sighs, moving behind you as she begins to fix your hair. It’s too late to do anything special to it, so she’s going with the cliche of a low messy bun to make you look windswept instead of a sweating mess that painted what she perceived to be a chicken nugget form hell. “He has to deal with a newborn when he goes home and when he’s at work.”

“We should get him whiskey for the holidays,” you murmur, turning to look at the tiny mirror that sits on her desk.

“Thomas deserves tequila,” Abigail nods, “he deserves to have a good time.”

You gag at the thought of tequila. You can’t have it anymore due to overconsumption of said alcohol two years ago. It was Abigail’s birthday, which just happens to be the same day as a big holiday in Linkon. You can barely remember it that’s how bad you were. Your hangover lasted for a solid week, the first twenty four hours filled with constant puking and for the rest of the week, you were battling a horrible migraine that left you bedridden. At least Thomas will get some fun out of it.

“What time did he say he was going to come again?” you ask and bring the mirror to your face. You check out your makeup, which somehow stayed in tact during your painting session.

“Thomas texted saying he left ten minutes ago. He should be here any moment,” Abigail plucks the mirror from your hands and grabs a nearby sweater, tossing it into your small backpack.

You groan, already annoyed from Rafayel’s presence and he isn’t even here yet. You wonder how long this night is going to be. You already know that it is going to feel longer than it already is. It makes you want to stab forks into your eyes so you have an excuse to not go.

You have to, though. You have to face the purple haired bitch who thinks that you’re too difficult to be in an actual relationship, your rival ever since you laid your eyes on him.

A car honks from the studio’s driveway. You suck in a breath, rolling your eyes as you turn to look outside the window.

There he is: the price of drama and all things intolerable.

Rafayel sits in his sports car, the roof tucked away in the back so it’s a convertible. His purple hair is disheveled, messed up due to the wind. He has a pair of dark sunglasses on his face. You raise an eyebrow at the sight, glancing at the moon that hangs in the fresh night sky. He honks again but this time the honk continues, ruining the peaceful quiet of the beachside.

You groan and turn to look at Abigail, an unimpressed look on your face. She shrugs and passes off your backpack. You begrudgingly take it, the backpack swinging in the air as your drag your feet towards the front door of the studio.

“What happened to the Xanax, Abigail?” you ask, glaring at her from over your shoulder.

“Maybe the fish has a brain!” she calls after you with a laugh, closing the door behind you and locking it.

You slowly approach Rafayel’s car. You have your arms crossed over your chest, glaring at him while the car horn pierces your ears. He notices you and finally releases his hold of the car’s horn.

“Are you done yet?” you call out, annoyance prominent in your voice.

Rafayel swipes off the sunglasses, gazing at you. He honks the horn one last time, a petty move on his part, and gets out of his car. He leans against it, tossing the expensive sunglasses into the backseat. He wears a simple outfit made up of dark jeans and a brown hoodie, comfortable yet he still exudes a sense of wealth with the brands proudly on display.

“You look fine,” is the first thing you say to him, your greeting cold.

“Oh? Are we starting off strong today?” Rafayel comments, matching your crossed arms.

“Depends,” you tilt your head to the side, looking him up and down, actually liking the way the outfit looks. Your eyes meet again and you’re reminded of his unnecessary comments about you being too difficult to handle. “Are you wanting to meet my boyfriends? One of them wanted me to ask when you’re going to join the group. They want to know if you prefer washing dishes or cooking dinner.”

“First off: I am very sorry about my comments from earlier. I feel really bad—”

“Really bad?” you quietly mock him, your words falling onto deaf ears.

“—and second of all, I prefer cooking. I have this thing where if I touch soggy food, I have the urge to throw up.”

You raise an eyebrow at Rafayel, foot tapping against the loose gravel of the driveway. Rafayel’s eyes move to you, the blue and pink hues catching you off guard by the remorse that hides behind them. You let out a quiet sigh, your arms falling to your sides as you round his car, getting into the passenger seat. He follows suit and starts the car, looking over at you.

“Truce for tonight?” Rafayel asks, holding out his pinky to you. You glance at it, having to hold back a laugh by just how childish the gesture is.

“You know,” you lean towards him, reaching your hand up. You wrap your pinky around his and yank his hand towards you. Your narrow your gaze at him and he swallows the lump that forms in his throat. “If you break this pinky promise, I get to chop off your pinky.”

“Yikes.”

“I’ll have my brother husbands put it in clear resin, a trophy of how you broke the promise you’re making right now.”

“You need psychiatric help,” Rafayel whispers, half genuine with his remark.

You release his pinky and turn to face the front of the car, crossing your arms back over your chest. Glancing up at your hair, you groan, glancing over at Rafayel as he starts the car once again.

“Hey, Rafayel?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think we can…put the lid back on the car?” you ask with a sweet smile. Rafayel turns to you, an unimpressed and insulting look on his face. You lean forward, your fake smile growing as wide as it can.

“Do you want me to?” he asks, reaching for a random button that sits in front of him.

“Yes, please! It would be so—”

Rafayel turns the volume up of the car. Music pours out of the speakers, one of today’s pop music hits that you simply cannot stand to listen to. A smug smirk crosses his face as he shifts the car out of park, the back wheels spinning against the gravel, launching it into the bushes.

The car lunges forward as you gasp, reaching for the handle that isn’t there, your hand meeting air. Rafayel laughs, throwing his head back as the car makes it onto the public road. The two of you zoom down the city street as the fresh sea air hits your face.

Your once semi-okay bun made by Abigail is ruined. Your hair falls out of place, sticking up and everywhere as the wind tosses it everywhere, knotting it with every turn that Rafayel takes, the car practically leaning on two wheels every time he yanks the steering wheel in one direction. You gasp and yell, screaming at him to slow down and to use his blinker as his maniacal cackles fill in the quiet spots of the screaming wind.

The carnival, which is being held in Linkon inside of Jiexin Park, which is connected to a large fairground. Rafayel drives you through the city, weaving through the lines of skyscrapers and districts that the city has. You watch as the buildings pass you by, a blur before moving into the next district.

You’ve given up on your hair, thinking that it’s not the worst thing to come out of tonight, like almost dying with the way Rafayel is driving. You internally blame Thomas for not slipping him a xanax like he told Abigail he would but here you are: butt cheeks clenched as Rafayel recklessly drives through Linkon City’s traffic.

The car comes to a screeching halt in front of Jiexin Park. Your body lurches forward, your hands smacking against the dashboard in front of you. Slowly turning to look at the man beside you, watch as he casually tosses his perfect windswept hair out of his eyes, a smile on his face. You turn to look at yourself in your phone’s camera, looking like you were just running for you life in a zombie movie but as one of the extras that are made to look much uglier than the main leads.

You glare at Rafayel. He knew exactly what he was doing. This was a targeted attack on his behalf.

You get out of the car and slam the door behind you, the vehicle shaking. Rafayel gasps, scurrying out and following after you as you walk towards the park entrance. You ignore him as he yaps into your ear about respecting the car, that it is worth more than all of your paintings combined.

You approach an empty table, a line quickly forming behind the two of you.

“Two tickets please,” you smile at a woman at the plastic table, which acts as a — quite poorly made — ticket booth.

“Of course! Is it date night?” the woman asks, nodding her head at Rafayel.

You glance at him, deciding that now is a good time to practice your fake affection towards the Lemurian. Slipping your arm into his, you bring him to your side, catching him off guard as you rest your head against his shoulder. Rafayel looks down at you with a raised eyebrow, ready to push you away before he realizes that Rhys can be watching from any angle. He relaxes and clears his throat.

“Yes…it is date night. I thought I’d take her out and have some fun,” Rafayel shrugs, a smug smirk plastered across his face.

“Well isn’t that just peachy!” the woman muses. She reaches to the side, dealing with the tickets and punching in the numbers.

Rafayel chuckles, leaning down, his lips grazing the outer shell of your ear. You shiver from how close he is, darting your gaze away. He doesn’t say anything, though, and makes it look like he gave your head a kiss before pulling away.

“Fifty gold coins,” she says in the most unimpressed tone ever.

“What? Me?” Rafayel points to himself. He turns to you and all you can do is look. Between him and the ticket lady.

“You’re taking her out on a date, are you not?” the woman asks, leaning forward with a stamp in her hand, ready to lunge at him for his carelessness.

“I’m a feminist,” Rafayel leans forward, offering a wink to the ticket lady before turning back to you, nodding his head in her direction, “my beautiful girlfriend will be paying.”

A silence befalls the line. All eyes land on Rafayel, who is oblivious to their shocked gazes. The ticket lady’s smile falls, all joy from within her eyes dying as if she heard the worst thing imaginable.

“She’s going to be paying? Because you’re a feminist?” she asks in a deadpan tone. Your eyes slowly widen, looking up at Rafayel who proudly nods. “Well in that case, let me give you the ‘man who claims to be a feminist’ discount,” the lady absentmindedly presses imaginary buttons on the plastic table.

Rafayel’s smile falls as he realizes what is happening. You cover your face, slight embarrassment over whelming your body. You look around and give everyone sympathetic looks as your fake boyfriend becomes enemies with the ticket lady.

“That’ll be fifty gold coins, Mister Feminist.”

Rafayel nods, not wanting to anger her further, and looks bewildered as he moves his touch from your body. You step to the side, watching as he gives himself a full body pat down. You cross your arms over your chest, looking back at the ticket lady who looks so unimpressed with your “date.” Rafayel stops and looks up at you, eyes big and wide.

“Hey, erm, babe,” Rafayel begins. You hold up a hand, closing your eyes.

“You forgot your fucking wallet didn’t you?” you know that this is going to embarrass him. It’s pay back after declaring to the pier yesterday that you’re the new version of brother husbands with all the men who lay at your feet, which is a grand total of none. Rafayel doesn’t need to know that, though.

“I can run back to the car—”

“No. It’s fine,” you huff, making your movements exaggerated. “It’s just like all of the other times you forgot your wallet—”

“Oh okay. I see what you’re doing here. Very funny,” Rafayel rolls his eyes while he watches you dramatically rummage throughout your backpack.

“—I feel like your sugar mommy, Raf,” you sniffle for extra effect, earning the ticket lady’s sympathy.

She stares at Rafayel with daggers in her eyes, slipping a red wristband over your hand. She grabs a green one, not even putting it on for Rafayel as you drop cold coins onto the table in front of her.

“She’s being dramatic—” Rafayel tries to reason with the ticket lady as she tosses him the green bracelet.

“You better treat her real well tonight, you hear?” the lady glares at him.

People from around you chuckle, turning their faces away to hide their laughs. Even you have to stop yourself from smiling as you help Rafayel put his wristband on.

“Oh look, he needs her help to put it in, oh I mean on—”

“I GOT IT!” Rafayel, who is clearly overwhelmed by the sudden attention on him, swatting your hands away as he shoves the tiny bracelet over his hand.

“Oooh, someone’s touchy,” the ticket lady’s side comment makes you snort, your hand slapping over your face to hide your giggles.

“I got the fucking junior size or something,” Rafayel mumbles under his breath.

Rafayel takes your hand and glares at the people that stare at the two of you. You sigh and lean close to him, following him as he walks past the table.

“It’s okay that you’re broke, babe,” you claim loudly enough for the people to hear, “next time I’ll give you the coins so it looks like you paid—”

“I’M NOT BROKE STOP TELLING PEOPLE I’M BROKE! AND THAT I’M BAD AT SEX. I AM GREAT AT SEX!” Rafayel snaps.

You can’t help but laugh at his reaction, having to press your temple to his shoulder, shielding your face from the people in line, laughing as Rafayel squeezes your hand, trying to get your other squirm and let go first.

“Why did you have to do that?” Rafayel whines, dragging you along as you enter the carnival.

“A petty act of revenge,” you respond with a smirk, leaning up to whisper into his ear, “for my brother husbands.”

“Okay you can let it go now! Thanks!” Rafayel is snippy as always, making you laugh more.

The scenery is lively, golden lights hanging from inside the trees, strings of lights looking like they’re floating from one place to another. Stalls are lined up throughout the grassy park with a line of food trucks sitting off to the side. There’s a band that plays music with a small crowd gathered in front of it. To the side of the music sits a large white tent, where you can only assume the art competition is being held.

Families sit at tables along the empty spaces of grass and many couples walk hand in hand with plushies hanging from their bodies or are tucked beneath their arms. You look around, taking in the fun ambiance. You completely forget that you’re attached to Rafayel’s hip as you walk through the bustling crowd.

A large sign displaying Asko Hospital makes Rafayel roll his eyes, watching as the medical tent is filled with its doctors ready to step in when needed. You wake up past it, peering inside as a dark haired man with glasses attends to a young child’s scraped knee.

“How long do we have to be here for again?” Rafayel asks you, your hands still connected, fingers laced together.

“Well,” you look around, spotting a row of carnival games. The booths are covered in plushies, a big blue and pink seahorse catching your attention. “We just need to see Rhys, make it seem like it’s a coincidence that we’re bumping into him, and then we can leave. Or—”

“You want to play games, don’t you?” Rafayel deadens. You nod, a small and genuine smile forming across your face.

“We can say that you won me the plushies,” you lean into him, steering him away from the art tent and towards the array of carnival games.

“Fine,” Rafayel turns his chin up, puffing his chest out, “we will play your silly little guppy games. Maybe I’ll even win you a few.”

“Sure you will,” your comment drips with sarcasm. You snort and earn a glare from Rafayel, who slightly pulls away and looks down at you, his eyebrows knitted together.

“What? You don’t think I can?” the Lemurian questions, actually flabbergasted at the idea you don’t think he can win a few children’s carnival games.

He was once the God of the Sea! Someone to be feared! Someone to kneel before! And here you are, mocking him into oblivion for the umpteenth time tonight, so Rafayel will be damned if you don’t leave the carnival tonight with every plushie you want.

“Alright, fine,” Rafayel narrows his eyes and looks around, his purple hair flopping with every move, “pick a game — any game you want! I will win you every damn plushie here!”

“With what money?” you snort. He turns his attention back to you. “Oh? You need your sugar mommy to pay for it?”

“Obviously,” Rafayel says the word so matter of factly that it drives you insane. You glare at him, ripping your hadn’t away from his.

“Fine. I’ll fund your little dick size competition — who you’re competing with, I’ll never know — but if I don’t get that blue and pink seahorse by the end of the night, I’m going to tell everyone here that you cry when you—”

“Fine! Deal! You’re going to get the blue and pink seahorse and so much more!” Rafayel snatches your hand in his, dragging you along to the first booth of the night.

It’s a ring toss booth. You let go of Rafayel’s arm, looking at the dozens of milk bottles lined up in a perfect hexagon in the center of the booth. People gather around it from all sides, the four booth attendants smiling and collecting money. They casually throw the plastic rings, the plastic bouncing off of glass rims.

“Are you sure this is where you want to start for the night, Raf?” you ask, your hip bumping into his as you pass off the metal coins to the booth’s employee.

Rafayel takes the multicolored rings in his hands. They’re minuscule in comparison with him, the rings resting in the palm of his hand. The Lemurian turns to you with a smug smirk, winking at you.

“This is exactly where I want to start off, thank you very much,” he leans in and scrunches his face up, mocking your question. You roll your faces and push his face away from you, groaning. “I have to win my…beautiful girlfriend the best plushie here! Pick out which one you want, cutie! Cause they’re coming home with us!”

“You are insufferable, Raf,” you groan and take a step back, giving him his much needed room.

Rafayel tosses the first ring. It glides through the air, the two of you leaning forward as you watch it connect with the milk jugs’ rings. It clinks and bounces away, falling onto the floor. You let out an audible ‘oof’ and turn away, hiding a small laugh. Rafayel turns and looks at you as if it’s your fault for the ring not landing on the glass bottle.

“Well,” the booth’s employee steps up to the barrier, looking straight at Rafayel, “you can’t win the large prize, but you can still win medium or small!”

Rafayel groans and turns back to the booth, his face scrunched up as he tosses the next ring towards the center of the booth. It collides with the glass rims but ultimately slides across the top, landing on the floor with the others. You move to his side, smiling at the booth employee, before turning up to Rafayel.

The tips of his hears are a bright pink color, a big frown overtaking his face, glaring daggers at the milk bottles. You pat his back and watch as he flings another one into the air just to immediately bounce away and onto the floor.

“What in the actual fuck,” Rafayel stutters. You hold back your laughs of pure joy and amusement and watch as he slams his fits down onto the booth’s wooden counter. “I want another go! Now!”

“Calm down, Raf,” a woman’s voice sounds from behind, “you’ll get another turn soon enough.”

Rafayel freezes beside you. You turn and look to see a pretty woman with dark hair and vibrant eyes standing beside a hunk of a man. He has white hair and red eyes, his gaze dominating and making your legs feel like jelly. You quietly gasp and look him up and down, feeling Rafayel give in to his urge to turn around as well.

“MC?” Rafayel asks, his eyes darting between you and her. He takes a step to the side putting space between you two before realizing that he’s your fake boyfriend and moving right back to your side. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close as your fingers lace together on your side. “What are you doing here?”

“My boyfriend and I thought it would be fun to come support a friend and the hospital’s cause,” she responds with a casual shrug and smile.

“Boyfriend?” Rafayel repeats the word, leaning forward as if it’ll help him hear better. You nudge his side, still unable to take your eyes off of the behemoth of a man in front of you. He turns to look at the man beside her, having to turn his head up because of the sheer size of the man.

“Yes! Rafayel, meet Sylus! Sylus, this is Rafayel, my ex I was telling you about.”

“Ex?” you blurt out, turning to look at Rafayel. He grimaces, lips tugging upwards as he tries to play it off as best he can. He shakes his head ever so slightly, turning his attention back to MC and Sylus.

“It is very nice to meet you, Sylus,” Rafayel says through gritted teeth. He looks the man up and down, taking in his all black outfit, his jacket with red and white lines running down one side of his jacket and sleeves. “That’s…a lot of leather.”

“I need it when I’m riding my motorcycle.”

Oh. My. God. His voice!

You contain a giggle, having to bury your face into Rafayel’s shoulder, turning away as your cheeks immediately heat up. His voice is so sexy — so husky and low — if his motorcycle engine isn’t purring right now, something else is!

“A motorcycle? That’s so…yeah!” Rafayel awkwardly comments, his hand swallowing yours whole, putting all of his strength into squeezing your hand. You glance back at Sylus, your eyes meeting, which makes you giggle and blush further. Rafayel smiles through the pain, leaning down to whisper into your ear, “Get a hold of yourself, woman! Stay strong!”

“Are you still playing the ring toss game?” MC steps forward, releasing Sylus from her touch.

You move away from Rafayel, right on cue of course, and step away as the two of them begin to talk with each other. Their repertoire with one another comes so naturally to them, their laughs and side nudges coming to fruition as if it is muscle memory to them. You can’t help but feel just the slightest twinge of jealousy in the back of your mind.

Sure, you and Rafayel are fake dating but god damn, where is this effort with you? Rafayel and MC look more like a couple than the two of you do! This is going to ruin your chance with Rhys and your chance of being one of the greats is going to die and wither away!

At least you get to chop off his pinky and have it as a trophy of his fuck up.

“So,” Sylus’ deep voice sounds from behind you. You slowly turn, your head fully looking up at him as he rests his weight onto his back foot. “Are you and Rafayel are dating?”

“Me and Raf?” a laugh leaves your lips before you can even realize it. You quickly shut up and let out a horribly timed cough, covering your mouth with your fist as Sylus raises one eyebrow at you. “We are…yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re nervous,” Sylus cocks his head to the side, his red eyes peering deeper and deeper into your soul. You lean back as he leans forward. “You aren’t dating. It’s fake.”

“What the fuck,” you breathe out, watching as he pulls away from you, his eyes moving back to MC and Rafayel as they throw rings. “How did you—”

“I know. I’ll keep your secret.”

“Ooh,” you shimmy your shoulders and turn to watch them, “how nice of you.”

Silence sits between the two of you. You and Sylus watch as MC and Rafayel toss more and more rings, Sylus handing her as many gold coins as she wants with a small smile on his face. They’re so cute together. Just absolutely adorable. If Rhys sees them compared to you and Rafayel, he’ll choose them to be the headliners instead.

“So, Sylus,” you decide to ruin the silence, turning to face him just as he turns to face you, “what do you do for work?”

“I happen to run a…very humble fruit stall,” a tinge of a smile spreads across his lips as he glances at MC. There is nothing but love behind his eyes for MC.

“Do you know anything about gardening?” your question catches Sylus off guard, the tall man looking down at you with a perked up eyebrow, his crossed arms slowly moving to his sides.

Rafayel groans as his ring misses a milk bottle. MC chuckles at his side, nudging into him. He glares at her, a slight pout on his face as he hands over more coins.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, turning his attention back onto the rings.

“Nothing! I just love seeing how determined you are to win the game,” she smiles and tosses another ring, the small piece of plastic bouncing off the glass jars, lodging itself in between bottles.

“It’s rigged and we all know it, Gary!” Rafayel narrows his eyes at the booth’s attendant, earning a laugh from him.

“Are you doing this for her?” MC asks with a smile, leaning in and wiggling her eyebrows.

Rafayel scoffs and rolls his eyes. He moves the plastic rings between his fingers, the colorful circles swinging around his fingers with ease

“Her? Puh-lease,” Rafayel chuckles, “we’re…partners. Not in that way, but in schemes.”

“Is she now?” MC turns around and looks at you and Sylus. “Is she your rival you were always spewing nonsense about?” Rafayel nods, confirming MC’s suspicion.

You look up at Sylus, mouth slightly agape while he watches MC and Rafayel. Rafayel turns and follows her gaze, his eyes landing on you, a small smile spreading across his lips.

“You’re built like a Dorito,” your voice carries over the loud crowd.

“Oh?” Sylus hums.

“Yeah…I would say you’re like the Nacho Cheese variety but you scream Sweet Spicy Chili instead.”

Sylus pauses for a moment, nodding to himself before glancing at you and saying, “Good choice.”

Rafayel’s smile falls at your weirdly framed compliment towards the man. He rolls his eyes and looks back at the bottles, jealousy tickling the back of his mind.

“Definitely not winning it for her,” he groans, his face scrunched up as he rills the rings between his fingers.

“Uh huh, sure, keep telling yourself that,” MC comments.

He absentmindedly throws another ring, watching as it spirals around one of the bottles finally landing. Rafayel gasps, his posture straightening as he claps his hands together. He turns to MC, who jumps with him, pure joy sounding out from their yells and cries of victory. Rafayel snaps his fingers and points to a very small seahorse that sits on the bottom level of trophies to win, the level being that of a participation trophy for those who have spent obscene amounts of money at the stall.

“Gimme the damn seahorse, Gary!” Rafayel yells.

Just as Gary hands over the tiny seahorse, which is vibrant and tiny, its neon colors fading from pinks to greens to purples and blues. Rafayel turns around, holding the tiny seahorse up into the air. He crosses the space between you and him, watching as he lowers it into your outstretched hands.

“This is for you,” Rafayel smugly smiles, leaning in. MC stands behind him with crossed arms, rolling her eyes as he openly contradicts himself from not even thirty seconds ago.

“Why thank you!” you smile, looking at the seahorse with a spark in your eyes. Funnily enough, you kind of want to paint it, the colors calling to you. “Who knew that after fifty coins worth of tries that you’d be able to win something!”

You turn to look up at Rafayel, laughing as he rolls your eyes, draping his arm over your shoulders, tugging you into his side. His cologne, a scent that reminds you of the ocean but also those ads where the actors run through a desert or swim in the ocean while sharks circle them. The two of you smile at each other, faces scrunched up as you lean in, your noses barely touching to try and show the world, and Rhys if he’s watching, that you are a united and very much in love couple.

“It’s okay if it takes you more than twenty tries, Sylus,” Rafayel proudly boasts. You can feel him flexing his biceps through the fabric of his hoodie, “not everyone is as good as—”

Rafayel quickly shuts up as he watches Sylus approach the booth, rings in hand, tossing them into the air with such precision that it’s shocking. Every single one of his rings lands around the milk jug’s necks, swirling around the rims before making itself at home around the neck. Rafayel’s jaw drops.

Sylus turns around, a big kitten plushie in his arms as he passes it off to MC. She cheers, taking the plushie into her arms. In Sylus’ hands, it looked like a normal size, but in MC’s, the plushie is ginormous.

You turn to look at Rafayel, who wears a scowl on his face. You gently push him towards the next stall and listen as he grumbles obscenities underneath his breath about how life isn’t fair and that his rings must have been rigged to automatically win. You pat his back as an attempt to console him.

“That’s okay, you’ll get the next one,” you lean into his side, smiling as your eyes scan the crowd to see if Rhys or any of the other part people you know are also at the carnival.

“Hey!” MC’s voice comes from behind you yet again. Rafayel doesn’t turn around as he sits himself down at a chair, his hands latching onto the handles of a water gun, ready to win. “Would it be okay if we joined you? It would be so much fun to have a double date!”

“Of course!” you beam back at her.

Rafayel gasps, looking up at you with an angry expression. You push his face away, though, his nose smushed beneath the palm of your hand as MC and Sylus take their seats beside you. You sit down and release Rafayel’s face from your hand but he’s quick to lean in, his lips brushing against your ear.

“What the fuck are you doing?” the Lemurian asks, irritation in his voice.

“What? It’ll help us with Rhys,” you angle your head towards him, leaning in, “a double date will help us sell the fact that we have other couple friends to hang out with.”

Rafayel slowly pulls away. His eyes are narrow and fixated on you. The pink and blue hues move away from your face, staring at Sylus who sits on the other end of the group, a smug smirk on his lips. Rafayel moves his attention back to you. You shrug and bat your eyelashes at him, Turing away as you grab the handles of the water gun.

“Are you fellas ready?” the game’s attendant approaches the group, a big and goofy smile on his face.

You and MC cheer, clapping your hands, while Rafayel and Sylus simply nod at the man, barely even paying attention to him as they glare at the target in front of them.

“Well…alrighty then! Let’s get started!”

The game alarm sounds off, signaling the beginning of the game. Rafayel and Sylus immediately hit the target, the steady stream of water flying across the small distance while you and MC laugh with each other, giggling about how competitive the boys can be. The two of you barely pay attention to the game and instead choose to try and get your streams to touch, earning a wiggling of eyebrows from the minimum wage employee.

The game’s bell sounds off. The two of you gasp and turn towards your respective men, seeing which one won. Spoiler: it’s Sylus with Rafayel right behind him.

Rafayel stands from his chair, glaring as the man grabs another large plushie from the hooks, passing the obnoxiously large pufferfish off to MC. She smiles and thanks Sylus, who gives her a shrug and playful flirtatious comment in return. You stand and follows Rafayel as he leaves the booth, arms crossed over his chest.

“Raf? It’s okay! You’ll get it next time!” you try your best to encourage him as he walks to the next booth.

“Am I?!” Rafayel snaps at no one, punching the air in front of him. “How can I win when he’s around! Oh, I hate him. I hate him!”

“Stop being a drama queen, Rafayel, pull yourself together,” you roll your eyes, trying your best to keep up with his quick pace.

He huffs and puffs to himself, his purple hair falling back and forth every time he whips his head to the side. You clear your throat and take his hand. He immediately yanks it away from yours, stopping to look down at you.

“What are you doing?” he asks, placing his hands on his hips. You groan and flick the space between his eyebrows, catching him off guard, before grabbing his hand once again. “Flick me again and I’ll scream.”

“Calm down,” your nails dig into the skin of his hand, making him wince, “I’m playing the role of sympathetic girlfriend who is trying to calm down her dramatic feminist boyfriend.”

“Oh…right. Yeah. That makes sense too,” Rafayel’s voice lowers in volume, the man smiling at the surrounding crowd.

“It’s okay if you don’t get me the pink and blue seahorse,” you say with a shrug, “I don’t want a memento of you anyways.”

Although, you wouldn’t really mind having it in the first place.

“No, no, I’m getting you that damn seahorse,” Rafayel looks down at you, his eyes flickering to the smaller ones in your hands, “they need a sibling.”

“You’re a child.”

“Am I? Or do I have an active imagination?”

“No, you’re a child. A big one that cries whenever he doesn’t get his way,” you roll your eyes, pulling him to the next booth with Sylus and MC hot on your tail. “What about this one?”

“Do you want me to look like an imbecile on that?” Rafayel groans, staring at the rope ladder.

A teen hops onto the inflated floor, climbing onto the ladder that lies across the small stretch of distance between the front and the back where a bell hangs. The ladder wobbles back and forth, the teen boy quickly losing his balance before he tips over. People who stand and watch laugh and clap their hands, shouting that he tried his chest and that he’ll get it next time as the person to the side of him makes it halfway. They’re quick to fall over, too, earning a fun comment from the person operating the game.

“I mean…yes, I always want to see you be humiliated, but this seems like fun regardless! You have great balance, right? This will be a piece of cake!” you try your best to hype Rafayel up, even going as far as to stand behind him, massaging his shoulders.

“You think I can?” Rafayel asks, glancing at you from over his shoulder. You nod and wink, encouraging him to try.

“Ah, another game,” Sylus’ voice vibrates your chest. You bite your lip and turn to look at him, raising an eyebrow at him. “Let’s do it. Seems…thrilling enough.”

“Oh, you bet your ass—”

“Language,” you chime in,

“—that we’re gonna do it! My girl wants the panda!” Rafayel announces, finger pointed in the air.

As soon as people hear Rafayel’s declaration, they turn to watch as the two men approach the ladders. Sylus hands the person gold coins, enough for the both of them much to Rafayel’s dismissal. You and MC stand beside each other, shoulder to shoulder as you offer to hold one of the plushies for her.

The first couple of seconds are awkward so you turn to look at MC who turns back with a smile.

“So…does MC stand for anything?” A beat. “Something like ‘Mary Catherine’ or ‘Marie Curie’?”

“Definitely not like the radioactive scientist.”

Rafayel glares at Sylus, the Lemurian taking off his brown hoodie to reveal a white t-shirt underneath. His eyes remain on the taller man. He tosses his hoodie at you, watching as the brown fabric pathetically falls to the ground at your feet. Rafayel’s face goes red, turning to look at you.

“Oh, was I supposed to catch that?” you ask, awkwardly leaning over the large teddy bear plushie to pick it up, dusting it off by hitting it on the metal fence.

Rafayel groans and turns back to Sylus, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Are you ready?” Rafayel asks.

“Are you?” Sylus counters with an amused chuckle.

Without another word, Rafayel turns away and approaches the first ladder while Sylus steps towards the one beside it. Rafayel drops down, grabbing the first rung. His palms are sweaty, his nervousness taking over his entire body once he realizes that a whole crowd has gathered to watch him fail while getting a panda for you.

He is already wobbling back and forth. You step towards the fence, leaning over it, yelling encouraging comments in his direction. His breaths are slow and steady, slowly moving to the next rung of the ladder. He smiles, already making it halfway as the elevation increases.

“I’m doing it!” Rafayel yells, looking over his shoulder, ass popping out, his eyes meeting yours. “I’m gonna win!”

“Keep it up, babe!” you yell back, feeling a little too comfortable in the role as fake girlfriend.

Rafayel begins to make his next move when the crowd gasps. He stops, his pink and blue eyes moving from the ladder and to his side, watching as Sylus finally makes a move.

The tall, white haired man doesn’t get on all fours like how everyone has done it, no, no. Sylus takes a single step, hands casually placed inside his leather jacket’s pockets, and he walks across each of the rungs. Every step is precise and casual. The ladder barely even makes a move, staying as still as possible as Sylus effortlessly crosses.

“He’s an angel,” you breathe out, watching as Sylus glides across the ladder.

“I know…I can’t look away,” MC mumbles.

Rafayel’s jaw drops. He watches Sylus, unable to look away. Sylus glances at him, smirking, as he reaches the end of the ladder, reaching down to ring it. While he’s there, Sylus uses his Evol to grab the panda plushie, the same one that Rafayel declared he was going to win for you, and brings it into his arms, walking back down the ladder as if it’s just an average Tuesday evening for him.

Rafayel loses balance and falls onto the inflated mattress beneath him. The crowd screams, cheering for Sylus as he hops off of the inflatable. Rafayel scurries after him and watches as Sylus hands you the panda plushie. You take it from him with wide eyes, looking between the panda and the fuming Rafayel who stands behind.

“I…I definitely can’t take this,” you say, blinking at the oversized panda bear.

You look at Rafayel, who has quickly gained his composure back, and saunters over to the group. He swipes his hoodie back from your hands, quickly throwing it over his shoulder, finger hooked into the collar. He stands beside you and looks around, clearing his throat as if he wasn’t just casually humiliated by a man who looks like he was sculpted by the gods themselves.

Fuck. Does that include Rafayel, too?

“Well,” Rafayel looks at the panda bear, pinching its nose, “I did say that you’d get it. So I’m not technically wrong.”

Just by looking at him, hearing the slight crack in his voice, you know that he feels horrible. That his self esteem has just been shit on by a man who looks like he could break your back with just a simple thrust flick. You sigh, moving the teddy bear back to MC while you hold the panda. You reach out and take his hand, gently squeezing it as his fingers lace between yours like its second nature.

“I want the seahorse anyways,” you comment with a shrug, turning back to Sylus and smiling at him. “Thank you for the panda.”

“Of course,” he nods his head, looking down at MC who smiles at him like he is the only person to ever exist in the world. He smiles back, a hint of smugness in the gesture.

Oh, how you want to smack that smug smirk off of that damn face for making your fathead sculpin feel embarrassed.

“Hey Sylus,” you pass off the panda and tiny seahorse to Rafayel. He looks at you with bewildered eyes, trying to figure out your angle to your sudden proposition. “I’d love to take you on in a game. How about,” your voice falls off. You pretend to look around the carnival, acting like you’re trying to find something. “Basketball?” You shrug, facing him with raised eyebrows. “Sounds fun!”

“You’re on,” Sylus chuckles, nodding his head. He takes MC’s hand, walking them towards the miniature basketball court.

You watch and smirk, cracking your neck and fingers, loosening up your body. You begin to walk after them with Rafayel following close behind. He looks at the side of your face, watching as you tame your hair into a tight ponytail.

“Uh…are you sure this is a good idea?” Rafayel asks as you approach the court that has two hoops. Sylus hands over the money, turning to look back at you as he shrugs off his leather jacket.

“Rafayel, honey,” you turn to look at him. You grab his chin, yanking him down to your level. “Don’t you ever question me ever again. Now kiss my cheek like the good feminist boyfriend you are and hold my damn panda.”

Rafayel sucks in a breath, his cheeks and ears heating up. He leans down and kisses your cheek, quickly moving to kiss the other one. You smile at him, pretending like your blush is fake — news flash: it isn’t — and turn to the court, skipping towards it.

One court belongs to you and Sylus while the other is occupied by other customers. The man watches you with a close eye, the muscles of his biceps flexing underneath the carnival’s bright and colorful lighting. You have to look away, screaming at your mind to stop having dirty thoughts, and grab the basketball as he passes it to you.

“The man was kind enough to let us have a court for our own use,” Sylus claims, sweeping his hair out of his face, “so whatever game you’d like to play, we will.”

You dribble the ball between your hands, making yourself look as awkward as you can. Sylus tilts his head to the side and you look at him, bouncing the ball on the floor so it lands back into his hands.

“I’ve always like the game of HORSE,” you smile, gesturing your head towards the basket, “I’ll let you have the first shot.”

Sylus nods to himself, dribbling the ball. He takes it easy the first time, standing at the free throw line. He shoots the ball and it swishes inside with ease. He passes you the ball and you easily match it, a small crowd beginning to gather around the court.

It goes on like his for twenty minutes. The two of you refusing to let up a shot, going all over the place before you miss the first one, a three pointer from the side with no backboard to rely on.

“Oh,” you pout, turning to look at him, “what a shame. Oh well, there’s plenty of game left!”

An hour passes and the game is tied. Both you and Sylus need the other to miss so the person gets the letter ‘E’ to join the accompanying ‘HORS’.

The silver haired man passes the ball to you, the placement of the shot being left up to you. You look around, moving the ball between your hands as you wander around the court. You glance at Rafayel, who looks like he is about to implode at MC’s side, unable to look at anything but you. Your heart skips a beat and you turn away from his gaze, looking back at Sylus.

You slowly make your way behind the basket, standing by the three point line. The crowd goes silent. Even nearby vendors and customers stop to watch as you launch the ball into the air. Everyone leans forward, eyes fixated on the brown basketball, watching as it plops into the basket with ease.

“Fuck yeah! Get his ass, cutie!” Rafayel yells from the sideline. He turns to the crowd and points to himself. “I’m her boyfriend!”

Sylus quickly intercepts the ball once it hits the ground, sauntering over to you. You step out of the way and place your hands behind your back, inching back towards the fence where Rafayel is. You press your back to the metal fence, feeling Rafayel lean forward and press his cheek against yours.

“Personal space, Raf—”

“Oh, right, sorry,” he mumbles but stays close, watching as Sylus dribbles the ball.

Sylus launches it into the air. The world goes silent from all around you. Even you lean forward with the crowd, watching as the basketball connects with the hoop. The ball dances around, connecting with everything but the net of the hoop. After a few seconds, the ball rolls across the rim and spills out, falling to the side of the hoop.

Rafayel launches himself over the fence, cheering at Sylus’ demise. He drops the panda and seahorse, pulling you into his arms. You jump up and wrap your legs around his waist, hands resting on the sides of his face while he holds the back of your thighs cheering before you collapse onto the ground with a thud. The basketball court employee rolls his eyes and approaches, catching yours and Rafayel’s attention.

“What prize—”

“We want the big ass seahorse!” Rafayel, who lays on top of you, yells. You point to the big seahorse, its pink and blue colors bright underneath the carnival lights.

“Whatever,” the man, who is most likely a stoner now that you think about it, rolls his eyes and collects the prize.

Rafayel stands up, pulling you with him, and snatches the seahorse teddy bear from the man, passing it into your arms. The two of you cheer and giggle with each other, looking at the glittery details of the fins and scales, details you never noticed from afar.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as Sylus and MC share a kiss, giving the two of you a wave, before leaving. You wave back, nudging Rafayel to do the same, before he turns back to the plushie.

“Hell yeah, we won this!” Rafayel exclaims, grabbing its fins before spinning it around in the air, catching it with ease before handing it back to you.

“We?” you laugh, feeling as he rests his arm around your waist, guiding you towards the art tent.

“Yes, we did! I riled him up for you, cutie, don’t you ever forget that,” Rafayel comments with a smile. “You had to come and save me…you’re my hero! I’m a simple damsel in distress while you channeled the powers of your brother husbands to help you save the day.”

“This is your sign to stop talking like that,” you fake vomit to the side, earning another hearty laugh from the Lemurian.

“You were so badass, though. You really did give him a run for his money. I think I saw him sweat a bit,” he comments, leaning in to kiss the top of your head but he holds back, diverting his gaze elsewhere as he tries to play it off as cool as possible.

Rafayel can’t kiss your head otherwise cheek or lips because you two totally aren’t dating and will never, ever be a thing. Like ever!

“He totally did, didn’t he?” you bask in Rafayel’s praise, never having heard it from him before, and laugh as you approach the white tent.

People move in and out, two young artists standing outside the tent’s flaps passing out fliers for the event. Rafayel situates the panda on the back of his shoulders, holding onto its legs, while you keep the seahorses tucked underneath your arm, smiling as you accept one of the fliers.

“Where is he?” Rafayel whispers, nodding his head with a bright smile at people who wave to him, colleagues from within the art industry. “He’s supposed to be here, right?”

“Well, we did get sidetracked because of your quest to get a seahorse for me,” you whisper back, trying to get him to drop the panda from his shoulders.

“No! My panda!” Rafayel whisper yells at you, dodging every attack that you throw at him. He fights you and slips away from your touch, rushing to the other side of the tent, his giggles floating throughout the tent.

“Be careful!” you whisper as he leaves but he’s already vanished into thin air.

A deep and hearty chuckle approaches you. You turn around, noticing Rhys approach you with his wife on his arm. Your smile widens, posture straightening, as you hold the seahorse on your hip like it is a baby.

“Rhys? What are you doing here?” you ask, waving to him and his wife.

“I love supporting young artists! It’s always nice to see what up and coming talent there is and who to look out for,” his presence is already so comforting despite the heightened anxiety you feel inside your chest. “Now, where is that boyfriend of yours?”

“What day is it? Tuesday? Oh, right, it’s Rafayel’s turn today,” you laugh along with them, earning a wink from his wife, her approval already coming your way from the sly joke about rotating boyfriends. “He’s around here somewhere. He wanted to win me as many prizes as he could before stopping by.”

“What a gentleman!” Rhys’ wife gushes. She leans forward and grabs the fin of the seahorse plushie, giving it a little shake. You laugh, indulging in the comedy of the older generation and scrunch your face up as they laugh and look at each other.

“Cutie! Why didn’t you tell me you were in need of some company?” Rafayel slips himself into the conversation, panda still on his shoulders. “Rhys! It’s way past your bedtime! How are you still up, old man?”

Rhys and Rafayel laugh with their entire bodies, hunching over and slapping each other on the back. You and his wife look at each other, both sharing an eye roll by their dramatics and antics.

“I heard you won many prizes for this pretty lady right here,” Rhys gestures to the toys that hang off of your bodies.

“I did, yes!” Rafayel wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you to his side. “I will win any game that people throw my way if it means that I get to see her smile.”

You blush, looking away before hiding behind the seahorse’s head. You know that he’s lying, that he doesn’t truly mean what he says, but you can’t help but feel satisfied that he’s the one winning you prizes — well, trying to at least — and nobody else. That’s a secret you’ll never tell, though.

“Look at them, darling,” Rhys leans towards his wife, kissing the top of her head. “Young love is something special. I hope that you two never lose your spark. The fire behind your passion!”

Rafayel and you nod, letting out awkward and quiet laughs. You both feel guilty about tricking Rhys into thinking you’re in love, that you two haven’t been enemies ever since you laid eyes on each other in this life.

“Before I let you go, may I ask a favor from the two of you?” Rhys asks, stepping forward and lowering his voice.

“Of course,” the Lemurian responds, “we’re ready to help out whenever you need us!” Rafayel immediately looks at you, the smile on his face growing alongside yours. His grip on you tightens before you turn back to Rhys, nodding as excitement floods throughout your body.

This is it! He’s going to ask you to be the headliner! Are you excited! Oh my sea god you’ve made it! You’re not a failure! Who cares if you and Rafayel used each other to get here? You’re winners, baby! Nothing is going to stop you now!

“As you probably know, I teach a life drawing class at The Dreamscape. We just recently lost our two models, something about restraining orders and divorce or something—”

“Oh what a shame.”

“—and I would love it if you two would be able to step in and be our models! The theme is love, of course, and we want a couple to be our models for the class. What do you think?”

You turn to look at Rafayel, tilting your head to the side, puckering your lips as you narrow your eyes. He matches your expression, raising his eyebrows halfway up his forehead.

We have to! He signals to you.

Bad idea! What if he catches us bickering?

Every couple fights! Don’t be a pussy and do it!

Fine! You owe me for this!

“We’d love to!” You and Rafayel turn back to Rhys and smile. You lean in, temples touching each other as the seahorse is smushed between the two of you.

“Wonderful!” Rhys claps his hands together. “I’ll send the date and time to your agents! I won’t bother your date night with the details. Go have fun, kids! Be sure to stop by the table in the back for a gift just in case you decide to buy a piece of art from one of the kids who presented their paintings tonight.

“This art?” Rafayel snorts. “It looks—”

“The sick children did the best they could. They’re so sick and tired all the time and see ing their smiles while they worked is one of the most fulfilling experiences that I will ever have in my life,” Rhys’ wife gently speaks.

“—it looks so great and amazing! I love how abstract is is! They have an eye for art and I bet it’s because of your influence!” Rafayel quickly recovers.

You have to turn your head away, hiding behind Rafayel’s shoulder, as you cough through the laughs. His hand leaves your waist, moving to your ass as he pinches it. You gasp and he smirks, waving away Rhys and his wife.

“Hey! Why did you do that?” you pout, pushing away from him as you rub the spot where he attacked you.

“That’s for laughing at me! Now, let’s go buy some kid’s art and get out of here,” Rafayel walks away, panda bouncing with every step he takes.

You laugh and follow after him, eyes scanning the wall of art. A lot of them are of flowers, which is easy to draw, while others are of outer space. One of them catches your attention, though, and you grab Rafayel’s hand to stop him before he goes too far.

“I want this one,” you point to it.

“That one?”

“Yes, bitch, that one,” you look up at him, brows knitted together. “What did I say about questioning me?”

“I’m not a brother husband,” Rafayel turns to look at the painting, tilting his head to the side. He holds out his hand, wiggling his fingers at you. “Card, please. I’m a feminist who forgot his wallet.”

“Very slick,” you roll your eyes and turn around, shimmying your backpack. “It’s somewhere in there. I don’t know, have fun finding it.”

Rafayel lets out a dramatic groan, leaning down. The panda’s face hits yours and you swat it away just for it to round back to you. Rafayel rummages through the backpack, giggling when he sees your backup tampons, grabbing your wallet. He walks away, giving you the middle finger as you protest him taking the entire wallet, stating that he only needs a card.

You sigh and turn back to the painting, the smile returning to your face. Your eyes move over the blue waves, looking at the crabs that sit beneath the surface. A couple walks hand in hand on the beach, their feet submerged beneath the water as the sea life flourishes to the side. Something inside of it calls to you, your connection to the sea knowing no bounds.

“Alright, we got it!” Rafayel comes back a few minutes later and tucks the wallet back into your backpack. “I had to fight an old lady for it, so, you’re welcome.”

He helps take it off of the wall, a clear plastic bag full of water in his hand with a small fish floating on the inside. You stare at it, unable to even comprehend how the fuck he got a fish.

Rafayel casually rolls the painting, making sure not to ruin it, as he slips it inside the complimentary tube to take home. You point to the fish, head falling to the side.

“Hey, Rafayel.”

“What now?”

“Where the fuck did you get a fish?”

“Oh, this is Reddie,” Rafayel casually holds the bag up, pointing to the tiny red fish on the inside of the bag. “He’s the gift Rhys was talking about. I fought a four year old for him.”

“Why wouldn’t you let the kid have him?”

“Because this fish spoke to me.”

“And you were the one who said I needed psychiatric help,” you roll your eyes and take the tube, turning on your heels, and exit the tent.

Rafayel stays close to your side, holding Reddie in one hand while balancing the panda with the other. You follow as the crowd leaves, making sure to wave goodbye to the ticket lady, who mouths fuck her good to Rafayel. He cringes, making a face just as the two of you step out of the park’s gates.

You reach the car and sigh with relief, already feeling your body relax. You set the tube in the backseat of his convertible and place the seahorse in the seat. You lean in and buckle its seatbelt, watching as Rafayel snorts at you.

“You’re ridiculous,” he comments.

“Says the guy who couldn’t win a single game today,” you shoot back.

“I got you the smaller seahorse! What more do you want from me?” Rafayel frowns, slamming the panda into the seat beside the seahorse.

He grumbles under his breath and proceeds to buckle the panda in. His eyes move to you, watching you get into the car, smile on your face as you give Reddie a finger wave. A soft smile spreads across his face, his expression softening. He turns to the panda and scowls, giving it a big ol fucking slap before getting into the driver’s side of the car.

He reaches over your lap and opens up the glove compartment, plucking a silk scarf from the abyss, and places it onto your lap. You stare at it then at him. The car roars to life with Reddie vibrating in the cupholder.

“What’s this?” You ask, feeling the patterned material beneath your fingertips. It’s smooth and cool, looking like something a woman from a spy movie from the 1950s would wear.

“It’s for your hair,” he shrugs, the car already moving out of the parking spot.

“You had this the whole fucking time and now you’re giving it to me?”

“Whoops,” Rafayel smiles, laughing as he looks over at you.

“You’re such an asshole,” you mumble, unable to hold back the smile on your face. You hide your hair under the silk scarf, protecting it as much as you can as Rafayel watches you form the corner of his eye.

He’s unable to contain his smile as well, looking at Linkon City’s skyscrapers to distract himself from the way his heart pounds inside his chest. He revs the car engine and pulls out of the parking spot, making sure to drive slow just for you instead of being a mad man like before.

The car ride home is nice. The music plays in the background as you two familiarize yourself with he fresh sea breeze instead of city smog. You smile and feel the wind between your fingers, looking at your painted nails while Rafayel gazes at you.

It’s so peaceful, so serene. One would think that the two of you are an actual couple instead of enemies who are forced to work with each other. Rafayel takes the long way home, driving through the scenic route of Whitesand Bay. He loves hearing your laughs as the car quickly moves up and down the rolling hills.

He wishes the night isn’t over as soon as he stops in front of the tiny studio you also use as your home. The two of you are so alike and yet so different, it’s interesting to think about.

The convertible comes to a slow stop in the house. The lights are still on with Abigail at home, probably watching some shitty reality tv show without you. You sigh and begin to unbuckle your seatbelt, gathering your belongings. Rafayel, is quick out of the car, racing around the side to open the door. You smile at him and get out, a quiet laugh leaving your lips.

“Thank you,” you say, feeling Rafayel tuck the seahorse and panda underneath your arms. “I think Reddie will be in better care with you than me.”

“Totally,” he nods, matching your smile. “I, uh,” he scratches the back of his head, “wanted to apologize about earlier today.”

“It’s okay, Raf,” you wave him away, the plushies wiggling with the movement.

“No, I was out of line and you didn’t deserve that,” Rafayel sighs, looking down at the gravel, unable to bring himself to look into your eyes.

“I forgive you,” you say the words before you can think about it. He looks up with widened eyes, the pink and blue color looking so beautiful under the moonlight.

“You do?” he asks. You nod, biting your lip. “Thank you.”

Rafayel steps forward, taking your face between your hands, and kisses you. You gasp, eyes flying open. You quickly melt into the kiss, though, with your eyes fluttering shut and you stand up on your toes, helping close the distance between you two.

The kiss lasts for a few seconds, your lips lingering on each others for more than they should have. You slowly pull away, looking into his eyes while his hand caresses your cheek.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” you breathe out.

“I don’t regret it,” Rafayel quickly says.

The Lemurian takes a step back, watching you with a small smile as he gets back into his car. He drives away, giving you one last wave before disappearing down the street.

You smile at nothing, lips tingling from the kiss. You slowly turn around, laughing to yourself, when you look up, eyes connecting with Abigail, whose jaw is dropped. She stands in the open doorway, tub of ice cream falling to the floor.

“What the fuck?!”

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