Chapter Text
You're curled up in the fetal position when Rafayel taps on your shoulder.
You groan. Your period had decided to be particularly mean to you this month, forcing you to rest as the pain cycled through your abdomen at random levels.
"I have something for you!" He calls.
You pull a pillow over your face. "Little quieter."
"Oops, sorry." You feel his settle into the bed beside you. "I brought your favorite."
My favorite? That could mean anything.
Lowering the pillow, your eyes widen after being met the sight of a new plushie. The plushie you'd had your eye on since it released.
Pillow discarded and scrambling into a sitting position, you grab it from him. "Artsy Birb! Peach Blossom Edition!"
He smiles at your brightened expression. You hug the birb close, pressing it against the heating pad. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you so much!"
"Anything for my best friend." He watches you lean back, eyes not leaving the new plushie. Joining you, he lays on his side facing you, watching you squeeze the plushie's face.
"Violent, got any cravings?" You shake your head and scoot close to lean against his chest, pull Artsy Birb up for another look.
"Look at how cute it is."
"Very cute. Not as cute as the cutie in front of me."
"Uh huh." You pet the soft fur. "I think this lil guy is cuddlier."
"Whaaat? Nobody beats my best friend in the cuddles competition." His arms loop under your arms, careful not to dislodge the heating pad.
Closing your eyes, you relax. "Mmmm… I suppose I could eat a fish." Head tilting back, you playfully nip at his jaw.
He presses a kiss to your forehead and smiles affectionately. "Funny. Very funny."
Smirking up at him, you roll over. "You started it."
"No, did I?"
"Uh huh." You lean in close before he interrupts you.
"Should we move Artsy Birb? I think he's watching us."
You push his shoulders down. "Raf, the plushie is not watching us."
"Nuh uh, it is. Look."
You stare for a moment before looking. It's just sitting there. "It's not even facing us."
He draws your chin back so you're looking at him again. "It made you smile."
You make a flustered noise. "Whatever."
🎨💛
There wasn't any way to avoid the invasive questions people had. You weren't going to hide away from your friendship with Rafayel, and Rafayel wasn't interested in hiding you.
"It doesn't matter," You had said one night. "They're going to ask questions no matter what. Are you going to stop referring to me as your friend, avoid mentioning me all together?"
Rafayel had a sour look. He had no interest in writing out your involvement in his life, your support of his art, or your importance to him as a friend. You give him a look. "Exactly."
There was one question in particular people loved to ask.
A wide eyed too eager journalist pushed his way into your space. At one of Rafayel's art exhibitions, you're hanging out near the back of the displays. Socially, you're attempting to wave a sign saying not interested. Message not received. With a notepad open, the journal asked, "Are you planning to have kids?"
You shake your head, mentally preparing for the usual questioning.
Are you sure? What about when you get older? It's only natural for parents to want children. I bet Rafayel wouldn't chose a girlfriend who would make a bad mother. Oh, you're going to get married first, right?
Those last two had been from the same journalist. You don't know where they are now, but you can't bring yourself to care. Their intrusive questions stopped. This journalist however, was happy to take their place.
"Do you want kids?"
"No," You reply flatly.
"What if you become pregnant?" Unlikely, you and Rafayel were very careful. "What will you do then?"
Your smile wavers. Now that was audacious.
"I have no doubt he would support my choice."
"Yes, but what about a successor? Someone to follow in his footsteps as a famous artist!" The compliment towards Rafayel doesn't cover up the meaning behind his words. So not just audacious, presumptuous as well. Rafayel will have a feast with this one.
As if he could sense your discomfort, said friend appears behind you. Rafayel wraps his arms around your waist, tucking his chin against your tense shoulder.
"Hey cutie," He greets as usual.
You turn to give him a smile, a genuine one. "Hey, Raf."
From the corner of your eye, you can see the journalist tapping his pen before scribbling something down.
Let me guess, "who calls their friend cutie?" As if we haven't heard that one before…
Pretending to just notice him, Rafayel shifts his attention elsewhere.
"Did my friend mention our child yet?" You can't stop yourself from snorting, realizing where Rafayel is going.
"No!" The journalist is interested, as Rafayel was counting on. Lowering his voice, he asks, "Was it meant to be a secret?"
Rafayel shook his head without looking at you. He was really going to break this guy's spirit when the punchline was dropped.
"Well…. then I'll be the first one to say cutie, don't forget Reddie!" While speaking to you, he flashes the journalist a forced smile, eyes narrowed.
The journalist does not take the hint, leaning forward eagerly. "Who is Reddie?"
3… 2… 1…
"Our pet fish, of course!" You stop yourself from laughing, seeing the journalist's crestfallen expression. There goes his hopes of a scandal story and no doubt another ridiculous headline like Famous Artist Rafayel and His Friend- Secret Child, Hidden Relationship, Tensions on the Rise!
Taken back, the journalist stumbled over his question. "What?"
Beaming, Rafayel explains. "Our fish. We co-parent a fish."
He went off proudly rambling on about the care and love you both gave to the pet fish, all while his arms never left your waist. His eyes remained fixed on the journalist, as if daring him to walk away.
Feeling the mood shift but not knowing why, the journalist attempts to make an escape. "Excuse me- I- I just realized I'm going to be late for something. My boss- "
"Your boss?" Rafayel finally takes his hands off you, slinking around to the journalists side. His hand comes down, holding a little too tight on one of their wrists. "Do you mind writing their name down for me?" He faked excitement. "I would love to do a formal interview with your company later. I'll even request you specifically."
There was no escaping Rafayel when his voice took on that tone. To anyone listening in, the artist was giving an up and coming writer the interview offer of a lifetime. Caught between Rafayel's insistence and warning, the man had no other choice but to comply. Shoving a scrapped piece of paper from his notepad at him, boss and company names clearly written, Rafayel took it. His eyes scanned over the words before releasing his grip and the journalist scampered off.
Rafayel's shoulders dropped once the man was out of sight.
"What a rude man. Are you okay?" He turns back, putting his hands on your arms. "I heard his question- who asks that?" He suppresses a shiver recalling the verbal interrogation, watching close for your reaction.
You stammer. "I, I mean, he was…." You struggle to put into words what you know he understands. "It was uncomfortable." Your stomach twists. "I don't want to think too hard about it."
"Duh." He pulls you into a hug. "What do you want me to do?"
Rafayel had a… reputation for not holding back when it came to 'slander' or 'accusations' against you specifically. Media commentary against himself? He could handle it. He would play it up, depending on the rumor. But harm against you was not to be tolerated; something a specific journalist would be learning first hand.
You shrug. Be it this journalist or another, it wasn't going to stop everyone.
"Up to you."
Rafayel smiles, a real smile this time, though with no less edge. You'd be fearing for your life if it wasn't done on your behalf. "Thanks, cutie! Thomas wanted me to stay a little longer, but I did just promise an interview, and what a bad friend would I be to not listen when you want to go home?"
You press your lips together, nausea already lightening at his usual display.
"I said, what a bad friend would I be to not listen when you want to go home?"
You tap your foot before giving in to his teasing. "Well I suppose I do want to go home- "
"I love you- "
" - after… 10 more minutes," You finish. "I love you too."
His expression rises and falls within seconds. "Cutie!"
"You can handle 10 more minutes of saying thank you and thanks for coming." You link your arm with his. "I'll even be moral support." More serious, "Thank you for helping me."
"Don't mention it, cutie. You won't have to worry about him any longer." It takes a moment before it clicks. "Hey, why are we walking towards that group of people? Cutie!"
"10 more minutes. This is good for you."
You both end up leaving after 5 minutes.
After you pull out of the parking lot, Rafayel taps the dashboard. "Hey, what was that jerk's name?"
"Don't know."
He hummed. "I'm sure I'll figure it out."
That night, you can hear Rafayel mumbling into his phone and scratching out notes in one of his books.
After that, you don't hear about the journalist again. The company doesn't return to any of Rafayel's events. Later, you hear it's undergoing a change in management.
🎨💛
It's a solid few hours into body doubling that you get curious. Rafayel is in the window alcove, leaning against the wall, knees drawn up as he doodles in his sketchbook.
He was so engrossed in his drawing he almost drank from his paintbrush water.
"That's paint, Raf."
You see his fingers inching towards the wrong cup.
"Mmhmm." He hums. His fingers close around the handle.
"Your watercolors."
"Yeah they're… somewhere… not quite there yet."
He lifts the cup.
You sigh. Best to stop him before you have to call poison control. He won't like it, but… "RAFAYEL!" You scream at him.
He jumps at your abrupt outburst. "WHAT!?" He stares at you, eyes wide. "IS THERE A BUG?"
You smile and point to his hand. "Look."
He almost drops the cup, which would've been pretty bad for the hardwood floors, had they not previously been in a similar situation. "Oh. Oh." Rafayel sighs in relief. "I thought there was going to be a bug in there." He shivers. "Thanks for telling me."
He puts the cup down and picks up as actual water cup. You watch for a moment before pointing to the paint cup. "Do you maybe want to throw the paint water out? What if I'm actually working the next time you want a sip and then- " You draw your thumb nail against your throat to dramatically gesture death.
He waves you off. "Nah. Hey, aren't you supposed to be working?"
"I've been working." You hit the backspace. Again. Oh, there was another typo. You squint at the display of tabs, and then up to see Rafayel still looking at you.
"Your work involves watching me now?" He winks playfully. "Am I a good muse?"
"The best muse. Such a good muse I have to advise you reduce your risk of drinking day old paint water."
"Eh." His pencil returns to sketching, sinking back into the zone.
Yep. He was definitely going to drink that watercolor water.
You were going to take a break away. Getting up, your arms stretch over your head. Dropping them back down to your sides, you roll your shoulders. A yawn escapes you. Absentmindedly, Rafayel yawns too. Blinking away the strain of staring at a laptop, you swipe the paint cup from his space.
"The dandelion paint was safe."
"And the rest of them?"
"… Good point "
You watch to see him return to focus before stepping out.
In the kitchen, you set the cup down and fill it with hot water and soap. You pull the blinds closed on the window in front of the sink, not wanting the sun's rays to fade the paint. Shifting it, you admire the details.
He had made the cup at the end a pottery streak and painted it a sea blue with different colored corals as decoration.
Walking back into the office, Rafayel is waiting for you, still perched in the window seat.
Settling back at your desk, you meet his eyes. "What?"
He puts his chin in his palm, elbow on his leg. "Just waiting for my muse to get back in position."
You lean over but he tilts the sketchbook away from you.
You could get up and look but… Rafayel is supposed to be working.
"I thought you were back in the zone."
He shrugs. "It's coming and going."
You tap your laptop back on. "Well, I still have… 10 more emails to respond to. You want lunch after?"
"Yes! There's this new recipe I wanted to try out and- "
You listen to him explain the latest recipe that caught his eye with a smile on your face as you type out your email responses. It seems Rafayel found his inspiration after all. Now, was he going to end up creating a collection of seafood paintings, or something else?