#my other favorite is when MC goes to sleep smiling after teasing Blade & him looking away from her smile when they wake up

[dragonknightofsummerset]

So many of the conversations with Blade during the room sharing scene are so good but I recently got to bring up his hair & I love that he says he won't change it since MC doesn't find his appearance intimidating

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Could’ve Been (Rafael x MC)

Title Inspo: Could’ve Been - H.E.R feat. Bryson Tiller

Summary: Casey realizes that letting go of a relationship is harder than she thought

A/N: 1) Me? Writing an Open Heart fic that isn’t about Ethan? Shocking. 2) This would’ve been up much sooner had I not started watching Real Housewives (quality hour of television, btw) and gossiping with my mom.

Tags: @drakewalker04 @canknot @akacalliope @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ermidc @thatysn @paulfwesley @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker

~v~

The rest of the city is calm, despite how she feels. Casey Valentine is exhausted. She just got off of a 36 hour shift at the hospital, most of her body feels like dead weight, and she wants so badly to go to sleep, but her brain refuses to shut off.

She rolls over, nearly colliding with Rafael. Her boyfriend is sound asleep, and she'd be envious if she wasn’t so content with the image of him. She’s never said it about a guy before, but Rafael is so attractive, he borders on angelic at times. His smooth brown skin is illuminated by moonlight, his long eyelashes curl along the apples of his cheeks, his lips are slightly parted, and she can hear his tiny breaths pass through as he breaths, the muscles in his arms and legs are loose and relaxed. Her eyes travel the planes of his body, loosely covered by her sheets, leaving little to the imagination.

Casey sits up in bed, ignoring the sheet as it falls from her body, and simply stares at Rafael. Moments like this, moments of stillness and tranquility are so hard to come by considering their hectic jobs and lives, and now that she’s stumbled into one, she doesn’t want it to go to waste.

Unconsciously, her fingertips reach out to touch the few strands of hair that are dangling in front of his face, and she gently grazes his forehead in the process.

He whimpers slightly at the contact and Casey freezes, hoping he doesn’t stir any further. It doesn’t work, as Rafael’s eyes flutter open slowly, adjusting to the world of consciousness. After a few dazed moments, his eyes settle on Casey and a smile forms on his face.

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You can wake me up anytime.”

“No, you were sleeping so peacefully. Trust me, I know how hard good sleep is to come by.”

“I can fall asleep again,” Rafael says, his voice still hoarse and thick.

“No need to brag about it, Superman,” Casey teases.

Rafael chuckles softly at the nickname. He rolls over and wraps an arm around his girlfriend’s waist and pulls her in closer to him. She revels in his warmth. He was always her personal heater, his body running warmer than she’s used to with other people.

“Why are you up, my little insomniac?” Rafael asks, running a hand through Casey’s hair. Craning his head slightly, he sees the time on the alarm clock. 2:18 AM.

“I can’t sleep.”

“What’s up? Is work okay? Is sad or outlandish cases plaguing your dreams?”

“No. I’m actually on a winning streak at work.”

She can’t put her finger on it, but she can’t shake the anxiousness building in the pit of her stomach. There’s no justification for the feeling, and that’s the annoying part.

“Do you think you’re nervous about officially joining the diagnostics team?”

While she still had a few more months left in her intern year, it’d be over before she knew it.

“Maybe.”

“Well whatever it is, I hope it goes away soon,” Rafael continues.

“Me too. But in the meantime, you need to get back to sleep. What time do you need to be up for your shift?”

“7:30,” he answers. His fingers find her back and he strokes the soft skin along her spine. Casey shivers at the contact and moves closer to him, as if that’s even possible. She swings her leg over his, the heel of her foot coming in contact with his calf, as if she wants to test out just how intertwined they can be.

Maybe it’s her nervous energy, maybe it’s because she’s bone tired and wants to be cuddled like a spoiled toddler, or maybe it’s a combination of both, but the urge to cling to Rafael is overwhelming. Not necessarily sexually—though she’ll never not have sex with him if that’s what it turned into—but she craves the intimacy of his touch, the warmth of his body, his scent, all of him.

The pad of her thumb touches his jaw, drawing lazy circles. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this, but you’re beautiful.”

“No one has ever called me beautiful before,” Rafael admits, and Casey can see a scarlet blush creeping onto his skin at the compliment.

“Well you are. I’m going to start saying it more.”

“I like it,” Rafael murmurs before capturing her lips in a kiss. She parts her lips, a silent invitation for him to deepen it, which he happily accepts. She hums in appreciation as his tongue finds purchase in her mouth, pushing, exploring, and his hands, simultaneously rough and gentle, finally settle at her side.

Her heart speeds up, and for a second there, she’s sure it stops beating altogether. Being with Rafael might be something she never fully gets used to. No matter how familiar he is, her body and mind still react like he’s something so pure and so rare.

After a while, he finally breaks the kiss, and she’s buzzing, dizzy and delirious, like she’s drunk on him. She doesn’t know how he has this effect on her, but she doesn’t mind.

After what feels like forever, Casey breaks the kiss and pulls back. They lock eyes and she’s pulled in, his brown orbs reminiscent of dark chocolate.

It’s in this moment that Casey Valentine realizes she’s stupidly and irrevocably in love with Rafael Aveiro. It’s all consuming and burns her from the deepest parts of her core, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

The confidence and security that comes with the realization tears at her defenses, lowering her guard. Whatever anxiousness she felt earlier dissipates as time ticks on. She doesn’t have time for that, not when she’s in the arms of the man she loves.

She must have a crazy look on her face, because Rafael gently squeezes her. “You okay? Why are you staring at me like that?”

The three words are on the tip of her tongue, but she swallows them. Instead, Casey kisses him once more. “Again, just admiring.” She yawns. “Let’s go to bed.”

“You think you’ll be able to go to sleep now?”

She nods and smiles giddily at him. “Positive.”

~v~

Casey startles herself awake, a cold sweat covering her skin. She pants, a hand flying to her chest to calm her beating heart.

“Raf, I–”

The words die on her tongue as she realizes that she’s in bed alone.

It comes flooding back to her. Sora came waltzing back into town, and Rafael broke up with her, saying he needed to see if there was still something there. She scoffs. Because stupid high school girlfriends still carry that much weight in your late 20s.

The memories cut Casey like a million tiny razor blades, piercing her skin and exposing her to the harshness of the real world. A chill settles in her bones, and she wraps herself in her thick comforter. It’s not enough, and it doesn’t compare to Rafael’s embrace in the slightest.

She’s done a decent job of compartmentalizing. She’s curt with him at work, she avoids group interaction, she got rid of all of his clothes shoved deep in her closet and her drawers. She doesn’t allow herself to think of Rafael.

And her stupid subconscious ruined it.

Now that the floodgates are open, he’s all she can think about. Where is he now? How are his grandparents doing? Do they like Sora? Do he and Sora pillow talk in the middle of the night, sharing secrets and talking about their days? Does he let her wake him up at all hours?

She should’ve told him she loved—loves, it’s still very much present tense—that night. If he knew how she felt, maybe they’d still be together. She should’ve had sex with him that night, if she knew it was going to be their last one together. She wouldn’t have done laundry and changed her sheets the next day because right at this moment, she’d do anything to smell him on her sheets again. Maybe that’s why she was so on edge: her intuition knew the breakup was coming, but the rest of her was blissfully unaware.

Casey allows the facade to drop, and the regret and ‘should’ve/could’ve/would’ve’s’ invade her brain for a minute. Up until now, she’s refused this, the mourning for her relationship with Rafael, because she knew she’d break.

Tears fall from her eyes quicker than she can blink them away. She doesn’t want to cry. She isn’t ready to open up that gaping wound the size of Texas that’s in the center of her chest because of this.

Before she can stop herself, she rolls over and grabs her cell phone, unplugging it from the charger. It’s incredibly late at night/early in the morning, but Casey doesn’t dwell on the time. Instead she scrolls through her contacts until she finds his name. There are no cutesy nicknames, no string of emojis, just a simple R. Aveiro.

Her thumb hovers above the screen for a long time, long enough for the doubt to settle in. She’s making a mistake, right? No one in their right mind is pathetic enough to call their ex in the middle of the night, especially sober.

Deciding she has nothing else to lose, Casey says fuck it, and calls anyway.

It takes 3 rings for Rafael to answer.

“Hello?”

Her breath catches upon hearing his voice. She just woke him up with this call, she can tell by the sound of his voice. Sleepy Rafael is easily one of her favorites.

She’s so caught up, it’s easy to forget that he’s still on the line and she hasn’t said a word.

“Hello? Casey, is that you?”

Casey counts silently in her head before nodding. “It’s me.”

“It’s almost 4 AM,” Rafael says.

Her cheeks burn at the statement. The embarrassment that she dismissed a few short minutes ago is present and in full force now.

“Is everyone okay?”

She misses when they were able to talk late at night with no pretense. There didn’t need to be an emergency with their friends. They were just Rafael and Casey.

“Y-yeah, everyone is okay,” she answers.

“Are you okay?”

No, she thinks. “I’m great.” Fucking liar.

“Okay.” 

There’s an awkward pause on the line, and Rafael yawns. He sighs heavily and she can feel it in her bones that he’s about to hang up on her. 

“I’m sorry for calling,” she starts, “I just...I don’t know, I guess I just missed hearing your voice.”

“And I’m sorry for unloading this all on you right now,” Casey continues. “But if I didn’t talk to you, I’d probably have a panic attack.”

“It’s fine, Case. I’m still your friend, you can wake me up anytime.”

Those are the same words he said to her during their last sleepover, and this time, she doesn’t try to fight the tears falling from her eyes. Maybe he said it on purpose, maybe it’s a sign from the universe that things will eventually be okay, or maybe it means absolutely nothing. Whatever the case, it sends her into a tailspin.

She wants to scream at him for being so dense. That's not good enough, it’ll never be good enough. She doesn’t want to be his fucking friend, she wants to be with him. She wants to fall asleep in his embrace, and wake up next to him. She wants things to go back to the way they were.

Her throat constricts and aches at the effort she’s putting into not sobbing into the speaker.

“Are you still there, Casey?” Rafael asks, concern laced through his voice.

“I’m still here.” If he hears her voice crack, he doesn’t bring notice to it, and she’s glad. “Again, sorry for bothering you. I have the early morning shift at work, so I should really get to bed.”

“Oh, of course.”

She’s caught in an awkward limbo of wanting to get off the phone as soon as possible, as if to save herself from anymore humiliation, but at the same time, she’s afraid to hang up on him. 

“Can you be the one to hang up?” She pleads. “I can’t bring myself to do it.”

Rafael swallows thickly on the other line. “Sure thing. Goodnight, Casey.”

“Goodbye, Rafael.” The finality of the words is staggering, and she’s shocked she actually managed to spit them out. She sniffles quietly.

But he doesn’t rush to end the phone call. Time drags on for a while and they both sit in comfortable silence. It becomes apparent that Casey isn’t the only one having a hard time letting go, and the fact brings her a tiny slice of solace.

But like all good things, the moment comes to an end. Saying goodnight once more, Rafael hangs up and the call ends with a resounding click.

And just like that, it’s over.

Whoever came up with the concept of closure is full of shit, because now Casey feels worse than she did before.