It was yet another busy day for both you and Rafayel. He was working on a new painting—an urgent commission from his manager, Thomas, who demanded it be finished within the day. That alone already put Rafayel in a foul mood. He’d rather be wrapped in your arms than hunched over a canvas, but fame came with chains, and as the most celebrated artist in Linkon City, rest had become a luxury.

Still, he tried to brush off his clinginess for today, dragging himself to work with a grumpy pout. His strokes were sharp and frustrated, his once-graceful hand now impatient. Meanwhile, you were preparing for your duty as a deep-space hunter—tasked with protecting civilians from rogue wanderers creeping through the city's borders.

After breakfast, geared and ready, you walked down the hallway and paused at the door of his gorgeous, sea-overlooking atelier. It was its usual chaotic mess—canvases, paint jars, cloths scattered—but in the center of it all was Rafayel, sulking on his painting ladder. The moment he noticed you, his cold mood melted. His eyes softened, lighting up like a puppy seeing its owner.

“I have to go. See you later, babe,” you said with a cheeky, affectionate grin that struck him right through the heart.

“I loooooove you!! Goodbye, my sweet darling!” he called out eagerly, voice echoing through the villa.

He waited. Expectant. Grinning. But… nothing came.

You simply turned and walked toward the garage without a reply. No playful ‘I love you more.’ Nothing.

He froze. Blinked. His heart sank like a stone.

Suddenly, he jumped down, tossing aside his palette and brush. Sprinting barefoot to the garage, he spotted you already in the car, about to drive off. Without hesitation, he leapt in front of the gate, arms stretched wide like he was willing to be run over.

“Babe?! What are you doing!?” You jumped out, alarmed.

He turned his back with a dramatic pout, arms crossed. “You’ve wounded my heart… You didn’t say ‘I love you’ back…”