Work Text:
Rafayel: ”woo i never knew someone could recite a menu in her sleep thats actually impressive”
MC: You need to hang up when I fall asleep next time. You’re not allowed to listen to me sleep-talk!”
Rafayel: “but like how else will i hear your honest thoughts while dreaming?”
.
It was all just, of course. She didn’t hang up when he fell asleep, so she wasn’t really one to talk.
But Rafayel wouldn’t be telling the whole truth if he said that waiting for his girlfriend’s even breaths on the other side of the line was just because he liked hearing her sleep-talk.
.
Rafayel still remembered how, not long after they began dating officially, he'd had to deter a particularly annoying patron. After that, Rafayel had to step in when a particularly nosy tabloid reporter got a bit too close for comfort. Then there was what seemed like an endless parade of people who for some reason thought that his bodyguard, draped in whatever gorgeous outfit she was in that day, was eligible.
She declined every advance, of course. Professionally, she was there as a bodyguard, and when she wasn’t, she was his personal guest. It would be rude to accept another man’s advancements on either term. But some, like an investor that had been at one of the exhibitions, had persisted, until Thomas had stepped in to inform him that “Mister Rafayel’s bodyguard is exclusive, and full-time. If you continue persisting, I will need to ask you to leave.”
Rafayel had found all of this out from Thomas later on after the guests had left, his cutie being rather horrible at admitting when things like that happened. He’d given her an extra kiss on her way out that evening.
And then of course there were the stalkers. First, it was that clerk, then it was a particularly annoying art enthusiast who couldn’t keep his hands to himself. The final straw was the one that came so close to his cutie that Rafayel had spent a week stationing himself inside the apartment so his poor cutie could get some sleep. (That one, too, had been sent off to the police station in handcuffs. The police were very familiar with his name by now.)
Seriously. None of them had any tact at all. At least when Rafayel had done it, he hadn’t gone as far as to try to disrupt his now-girlfriend’s personal life.
But that brought him to the current time. It had been quiet since the last incident, and while Rafayel enjoyed the peace of having his cutie all to himself, it was still unnerving after so many incidents. And ever since his week-long stakeout, he and his cutie had split their nights at Mo Art Studio and at her apartment, his cutie still nervous about being alone even in the apartments for Hunters and him very much concerned for her safety when it was possible others knew where she lived.
But they both lived busy lives. She had missions that took her across Linkon and beyond, and he was an artist who had to travel for exhibitions, inspiration, and occasionally targets. They had to be apart sometimes, for weeks upon weeks when things happened.
So he called her. Every night they were apart, he made sure that he was on the line, ready to act if anything was amiss. He would be the last voice she heard when she fell asleep, and he wouldn’t rest until he heard her breathing evenly in sleep. And never hung up--if the call ended, it was because his (or her) phone died or one of them lost reception. If anything happened while he wasn't there because the line went dead, Rafayel knew he'd be kicking himself about it for the rest of his life. Sure, being hyper-aware of every tiny movement was probably a little more then needed, but better safe than sorry, right?
He was always a light sleeper anyway. He didn’t mind. He could always rest later, after he finished his painting or whatever process he needed to extract his paints,. Or better yet, once they were together again.
After all, he wasn’t about to let some random person undo all of his efforts to make this lifetime the happiest one he could.