Rafayel was sat on a ladder, painting on a large canvas while you sat on the couch in his studio, setting up a small mirror and prepping your makeup and brushes from your makeup bag.

He had insisted you come by to accompany him. It was early in the morning when he sent the text which read, “come over pls can’t focus miss you pls”. Not to your surprise, he texted you like a 16 year old girl, as he normally would.

As you set up your “station”, Rafayel ran his brush along the canvas and withdrew his wrist with a content hum of approval. He looked back at you as if searching for your approval as well, but looked disappointed when he realized you weren’t paying attention at all.

“What are you doing?” He waited for you to look at him. “Ugh, I suppose whatever you’re doing must be more important than my paintings.” He then let out a very over exaggerated sigh of “pain and betrayal”.