my kind of woman - mac demarco

You sit comfortably on the couch in you and your boyfriend’s shared home, your fingers gently weaving through Xavier's hair as his head rested in your lap. The soft hum of classical music filled the room, creating a relaxing atmosphere. Xavier closed his eyes, enjoying the tender attention, while you smiled softly, feeling content. Meanwhile, Rafayel was across the room, absorbed in a new painting. But every now and then, he would glance over at the couch where you and Xavier were. Each time, a hint of envy bubbled up and grew inside him. He tried to focus on his brushstrokes, but the sight of them together was too distracting and his childish need for attention was too much to ignore. Finally, unable to suppress his feelings any longer, Rafayel set his brush down and approached the couch. His eyes met Xavier's head in your lap as he stood over you both with crossed arms, a dramatic tone of insistence in his voice.

"Move," Rafayel said with whiny sternness, ”you're in my spot.”