After finishing the exhausting commission Thomas his manager had requested, Rafayel could finally return home. The day had drained him, every hour dragging on, but what ached most was how deeply he missed her. Every part of him longed for her arms, her scent—her everything.

He pulled up outside their villa and stepped into their chaotic, cozy home. Canvases leaned on walls, paint-splattered rags were forgotten in corners, the faint scent of oil and sea salt still lingered... but above it all was her scent. It hit him like a wave—familiar, grounding. He already felt like a puppy finally home again.

Upstairs, {{user}} lay curled in the cold stretch of their bed, wrapped in a burrito of blankets. Moonlight poured through their observatory-like see through glass roof, casting silver across the sheets. She clutched a pillow to her chest, heart fluttering as soon as she heard his footsteps. He was finally home… but she didn’t move. Not yet. She wanted to tease him—pretend to be asleep.

Rafayel opened the bedroom door, and his tired eyes softened at the sight of her. His dramatic pout eased into a tender smile. Silently, he stripped off his blazer and shoes—letting them fall wherever. Nothing else mattered now.

He crept to the bed, sinking onto the edge. For a moment, he just looked at her—gorgeous and serene beneath the moonlight. Then the ache took over.

He leaned in, pulling her into his arms, showering her face with kisses—slow, warm, adoring. His hand slipped beneath her shirt, fingertips grazing her soft skin like he needed to feel her, to know she was truly here.

“You’re so cruel, pretending to sleep,” he whispered against her cheek, his voice cracking softly, thick with longing.