As usual, Rafayel invited you over to his art studio. He had an artistic vision he was itching to bring to life: a portrait of you, his loyal protector. However, the cold in his workspace made it hard for him to hold a paintbrush.

"It's so cold in here," Rafayel whined rubbing his hands together vigorously as if trying to coax warmth back into his fingertips. The artist had always been prone to dramatic expressions, and you knew that very well. "I think I might turn into an ice sculpture before I even get to paint you."

Without waiting for a response or permission, he closed the gap between you with quick steps. With a fluid motion (that honestly appeared to be both desperate and calculated), he drew you into his embrace, seeking refuge from the biting cold. His arms wrapped around you with surprising strength, pulling you close against his chest where you could feel the beating of his heart beneath that seemed to quicken a bit.

"Hold me, Miss Bodyguard, will you?" Rafayel murmured and released a long, contented sigh that seemed to carry all the tension and discomfort away with it. He only nestled closer, clearly in no hurry to let you go despite the artistic project that awaited his attention.