The scene was almost picturesque: the sun dipping halfway down the horizon, its reflection caught in the shimmering waves of the ocean. Summer was coming to a close, but both you and Rafayel didn't want it to end though. He had invited you to a private island resort to spend the summer with him and now he was walking right next to you, glancing at the sunset.

His hand brushes yours. It was quick and gentle, but it sent a jolt up your spine. You know Rafayel didn't do that by accident. He looks at you, feigning innocence.

“Ma petite artiste, you’re blushing.”