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It was a cloudy and brisk march day.
Not the perfect weather for a picnic, at least not for the other few people out and about between the mountains and hills. Settled on a blanket on one of the hills, they could watch them.
Raphael appreciated it. They appreciated the clouds, so that their parasol could be left at home. They appreciated the cold weather, so their long sleeve turtleneck and trench coat didn’t raise any eyebrows. The only thing unique about their appearance was their sunglasses.
Raphael also appreciated that Desmond wore one of his bulky jackets against the wind. They suited his round face and made him look buffer, while at the same time he seemed to almost drown in them. It made both of them seem fragile in their own way. It made them both look normal.
Raphael appreciated this thought.
“So, uhm, just so we’re clear here,” Desmond said as he rummaged through his backpack. His ponytail and its decorations swung to and fro. Colourful pearls hung from his hair instead of crucifixes today and it made Raphael feel more normal as well.
Even more so because they believed this was the first time ever Desmond hadn’t worn any defensive symbols around them. If it wasn’t, they hadn’t noticed the times before, but it would make sense for it to be the first time. This picnic was the first encounter not in Raphael’s home, where in theory any of the wolves could show up at any second.
Raphael thought about them, too, but worried little. They were probably sleeping, still drained of their energy by the full moon two days ago. Goliath wouldn’t care much for Raphael’s absence, especially in a hungover and antisocial state like this. For Jamie, they had taped a note onto the kitchen table, in case she’d accidentally sweep it onto the ground and then overlooked it. They wanted to prevent any panic attack or similar discomfort she was prone to since her mind was still strung out from the transformation.
Nothing could go wrong. They closed their eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.
It’s all a façade, shoddy make belief, a lie. You’re not like the people in the valleys, you’re not fragile like Desmond, a voice from the back of their mind told them.
“You don’t have any food allergies, right?” Desmond asked and jolted Raphael out of their thoughts.
He looked them in the eyes, his face already red and an abashed expression on his face before he looked away. “Except for the whole … garlic thing.”
Raphael chuckled very quietly behind their hand. “No, I don’t think so,” they answered. “Even if, it shouldn’t have any fatal consequences.”
Because you’re not like him.
Raphael smiled at Desmond and tried to ignore their steadily increasing heartbeat. “Or picnic ruining ones,” they added, trying to keep their rapid pulse out of their voice.
“Alright, cool,” Desmond said and pulled two large plastic boxes out of his backpack, each of them stuffed with sandwiches. He looked at the boxes before he looked back at Raphael.
“I guess you’re also not vegan,” he said. “Otherwise … well …” He put the boxes down to pull a third one out of his bag.
“No, I’m not. I don’t think there’s any type of food I wouldn’t eat”, Raphael said.
Desmond suddenly halted in his motions and stared blankly down at the box.
Raphael held their breath as they stared at him. The seconds ticked by.
“Did you make those yourself?” they asked Desmond with a smile and he looked up.
“No, my aunt Cia made them.” He paused for a second and looked away. “She’s Doro’s ex-wife …” He scratched the back of his neck. His hand bumped against his ponytail and pearls. He turned his head back to Raphael. “They’re not poisoned or anything. Don’t worry about that, Doro had nothing to do with that.”
His look into Raphael’s eyes was as steady as his voice. He didn’t look away.
Raphael’s smile grew brighter than intended. They sighed.
“I didn’t think they were. It’s very nice of your aunt to make them for us.”
Desmond’s look strayed again, but a faint smile appeared on his face. “Yeah, she likes to cook and stuff. Mostly things from her family’s old home.”
“Oh, how sweet that she’s keeping traditions alive like that. Where is she from?”
“North Italy. I don’t know from where exactly …”
“What a lovely place to be from. I can also see why she prefers Italian food over British food …”
Desmond snorted. He looked back at Raphael when he asked: “You been there? To, uh, Italy, I mean.”
“Ah, yes, but it’s been so long ago,” Raphael answered. They chuckled.
“Ah. I guess you’ve seen many places in your life …”
“Yes, but I think this is one of the more beautiful spots I’ve been to. I really like the mountain view.” Raphael looked around. For a moment they sat in silence and Raphael closed their eyes, enjoying that they ditched the topic of their immortality.
When they glanced over to Desmond, they caught him staring into the distance with a little smile on his face.
“Do you come here often?” they asked him and startled Desmond.
“Not really. I used to come here a lot, but mostly for … exercise. Hiking and stuff.” He looked down at his feet.
“It’s a very nice place for a picnic as well.”
“Yeah, it is.” Desmond said and looked proud of himself when he looked at them, which made Raphael’s heart skip a beat. “Oh, right, so what do you want?” He turned back to the boxes, which he had put behind him on the blanket. “We’ve got, uh, ham with onion paste and zucchini and baloney, rocket and tomato and one that’s I think egg, salad and radishes.” As he picked the boxes up to look at them, he mumbled to himself: “Damn, Cia made sandwiches as if she wanted to feed a whole family.”
Raphael couldn’t help but laugh. They tried to stifle it.
“They all sound very appetizing,” they said. “I think I’ll take one of the ham ones.”
“Then here you go!” Desmond held out one of the boxes and opened it for them.
Raphael took one with a “Thank you” and smiled at him, which made Desmond blush and his smile turn wonky.
He put the box away, took a sandwich from another and devoted his attention towards it instead of Raphael. He still avoided to look at them when he started to admire the panorama around them.
It didn’t seem to calm him since his face remained red.
“You got something there,” Raphael said and wiped a piece of salad from his cheek.
Desmond froze for a moment before he finally turned to look at them. “Oh, thanks.” His smile was abashed.
Raphael smiled back, before they let their eyes drift through the valley and over the hills.
They put their half-eaten sandwich down on top one of the boxes and propped themselves up on their arms.
Desmond also supported oneself with one hand on the blanket. Raphael’s little finger brushed against his hand.
From the corner of their eyes, they saw Desmond wince and stop chewing for a moment. He stared blankly ahead.
Raphael also looked ahead when they slowly moved their hand to cover Desmond’s.
Before they could, Desmond put his hand over theirs.