being rafe's girl meant giggling along to his jokes, as his hand was possessively wrapped around your waist.
being rafe's girl meant sitting in his lap during important meetings, bright eyes, and whispering in his ear every single time you didn't understand something (50% you were just looking at him confused)
being rafe's girl meant wearing your wedding ring, and whenever someone got too close - flashing it in their eyes so they knew who you belonged to
being rafe's girl was seeing him in his worst, and best, as his bleary eyes called out for you, you cooed at him like he was the prince in your fairy tales
being rafe's girl meant going to the beach, before shrieking going into the water, and then jumping out with a cute pout on your face, demanding that rafe buy you an ice cream
being rafe's girl meant that he would smile at you earnestly, from ear to ear, and someone people would be so shocked seeing you - a cute thing that was hanging on his lap
being rafe's girl meant going to his work and accidentally getting mistaken for his worker, and ending up doing some work at his firm before him coming to find you
being rafe's girl was getting special attention the minute rafe found out you had been mistaken for his worker, and getting that very same person who forced you into the job fired
being rafe's girl meant playing the piano for him, and then shly asking rafe to join, as you watched his trembling hands reminisce of a time that was better than all
being rafe girl was jumping into his arms every single time he came home, kissing his cheeks, and then telling him how much you missed him,
being rafe's girl meant many things <3
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Adore each other. Be fiendishly smitten. Be frantically in love. Can there be too many perfumes, too many rosebuds, too many nightingales? Can lovers love each other too much, be too enchanting, too beguiling, too charming? Is it possible to be too much alive, too happy? Adore each other, and never mind the rest.
— Victor Hugo, Les Misérables (1862)
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note: hands and rafe?? fluff!! this came to mind. i wanna talk about it so bad so y'all are forced to listen to my rambling idc. (might do a nsfw one if y'all want it...i'm sorry)
extra note; this is dedicated to my first anon; the beloved 🪐 anon <3
˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.
when rafe's hands are on your waist, dragging you close it means he's possesivally telling everyone who you belong to, and especially when his hand drags down to that small base of your back that you love so much, feeling yourself flush
when rafe hands reach for your, needing that small way to be close to you, you know to move closer to him, knowing that he needed you and that you needed to be there for him.
when rafe hands hold your hand, a calloused large hand weaved with your tiny one you can almost feel the shyness in the gesture, the vulnerability he's offering you, that softness that you could only get from him
when rafe's hands wrap around your shoulder, he's drunk and laughing at stupid joke as you give him a cheesy smile. you only need a squeeze on the shoulder to know he's completly yours, as his eyes are that dazzling steel blue you know too well
when rafe's hands drums on your thigh, you look up to him looking concentrated on whatever he's doing. he needs to keep his hand there, not caring about the prying looking that the guys give him, or the viciously annoyed looks girls toss your way. he just needs to close to you
when rafe's hands brushes your hair away, a small graze on your forehead, or while braiding your hair, you know he's reminding something. there is something about hair that drag him back to his youth, you think, because he gets teary eyed almost.
when rafe's hand grab at your elbow you know he's pissed with his rough touch. your elbow is some place that he drag you to turn around. usually it means you will be taked to in a demeaning way, snark clear in his tone, yet that soothing touch on your elbow tells you another story
when rafe's hands fiddles with your fingers, you know he needs something to drag him back to reality, that soft distracted of touch of his makes you hide your smile; something that he'll snap, 'what,' when he notices you looking at him in that shy way
when rafe's hand cups your jaw, it could be two things. it means he needs to look at his eyes to ground himself and know that you're still here with your wide doe eyes, and a clear look on his face, or it means he wants to see the look on your face when he teases you, a clear flush spreading across your face as he drags your face up to kiss you
when rafe's hand lingers on your wrist, it means he's checking your heartbeat to make sure nothing has scared you. sometimes you jump up, and his hand quickly travels to that delicate part of your body to check your heartbeat. you always find yourself feeling so grateful that he cares about you so much
when rafe's hands reach to wrap around your stomach, where he tucks his head in that hollow of your shoulder, you know that you need to ease him. you need to take care of him if it's by giving him something like a sweet kiss, or whispering a promise that will make him happier
when rafe's hands feel for you at night, a urgency in his touch hoping that he won't make contact with a cold bedsheet, and instead he'll make contact with your warm body which is twisted along his own as if the two of you were melded into one and another
when rafe's hands stretch the waistband of your sweatpants, you can't help but laugh, at how silly he is, how touchy he is. but he's like how poets say, the other half of your soul, and you let him do his silly acts
when rafe's hand grazes your eyes, you know you'll find him leaning over to kiss both of your fluttering eyes, a calm soft touch that will make you sigh. he knows sometimes you need it to calm down, that gentle touch that'll make you feel safe.
when rafe's hands stay reached to your side, you feel more loved than you ever have.
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