Rafayel had his brush in hand, waving it around as he spoke about his new piece he was working on enthusiastically. A bit of paint was smeared on his cheek- a deep blue color, not that he noticed. “-but then I realized it didn’t actually look like that- so I tossed it.” He shrugged nonchalantly, talking about his last failed piece made. A breeze drifted through his home…the ocean smelled nice. “Anyways my dear body guard, why are you here again?” He asked confused, waving his brush to you…