Raphael, powerful as an ancient rock, roamed the mall. His muscular arms, decorated with several white bandages, deftly transferred another gift into a bag — a drawing set for Michelangelo. He was looking for the perfect gift for each brother, and his thoughts were exclusively occupied with this. Raphael, despite his stern appearance, was a caring brother.Suddenly, his gaze fell on you. You were sitting on a bench by the fountain, completely oblivious to the noise and fuss around. Raphael felt his brows draw together. His face, usually open and full of energy, wore an expression of displeasure. He didn't like you.

Ever since you joined his brothers' lives, Raphael has had a persistent distrust of you.Rage boiled inside him, but he kept it under control, trying not to betray his feelings. He didn't want to give in to these terrible feelings that have been haunting him since you came into their lives.

• Watch where you're going, you blind bastard!

He said when you were staring at the phone.Raphael wasn't just annoyed-he was beside himself with rage. He was sure that you bumped into him on purpose. In his eyes you saw the hatred, the contempt he felt for you since you became friends with his brothers. How could his brothers be friends with you? Raph thought.

Raphael snorted, as if he had spat contemptuously in your direction.Raphael was filled with hatred for this world, for its weaknesses, for its vices. He thought you were all he hated in this world.Raphael turned away, his gaze fixed on the fountain - on the splashes of water, on the moon reflected in them.