#( xavier ) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

oncasette · 1 day ago

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YYEEEAAAAHHHHHHHH IM OBSESSED W THIS !!!!!!! it’s a me thing but miscommunication is so delicious sometimes and i’m devouring this

ੈ✩‧₊˚we can’t be friends 🤍 xavier 星回 ੈ✩‧₊˚

RE-UPLOAD! The original post didn’t show up in the tags, sorry for the confusion :c

pairing ੈ✩: xavier x reader

summary ੈ✩: you and xavier had been best friends for years, nearly inseparable since the moment you met. But after one slightly drunken night, everything shifted: you became friends with benefits. You told yourself you could handle it, but as time went on, your heart began to ache. You had to end it, for your own sake. You were in love with him, but you couldn't shake the painful truth: you believed he’d never feel the same. Still, what if, all this time, while you were trying to push him away, he was quietly hoping to show you how perfect you two were together?

word count ੈ✩: 12k. omg. it’s LONG, long. grab some snacks and let me entertain you for a while!!

tropes ੈ✩: 18+, smut, best friends with benefits, miscommunication, unrequired love, not really tho, angst, angst with happy ending, plot with porn, love confessions, needy xavier, obsessed xavier, domestic xavier, i suck at giving tropes i swear i will get better someday, desperate xavier, everything is consensual, the consumption of alcohol mentioned, pet names, xavier was once in love with mc but the myths are not canon in this one!!

author’s note ੈ✩: GUYS this one’s IT. This idea was blooming slowly in my mind for quite some time. I really hope you’ll like it 🥹 also, please be gentle with me, i’m not a native speaker of english and I’m definitely not a writer. I like to think that everything i create is just fueled by my passionate delulu. please let me know if you liked it and if maybe you’d like to read part 2!! ♡ enjoy your reading!!

!!do NOT read if you’re not 18+!!

ੈ✩‧₊˚

It all started with the simplest of touches.

Your hands grazed, as if by accident. Then your eyes met. He grabbed you by your forearm, or maybe you grabbed him, everything was so blurry in your mind. A touch on a waist, a hand on a chest, and a sudden clash of your lips. You saw fireworks exploding in your mind, sending pleasant thrumming throughout your whole body.

Desperate touches. Rapid breaths. A whisper, maybe two. He said something. What did he say? The sound of your heart was the only thing you could hear.

Your dress came off. You felt lips. Lips marking every part of your body, leaving behind wet paths that made the exposed skin shiver due to the coolness of the air. He went down. Down. Down, and looked at you expectantly. Your head never nodded that quickly and it probably never will again. You saw stars. Millions and millions of them, shimmering under your closed eyelids. He grabbed your hand and put it into his hair. You caressed it gently, savoring the softness of it.

Then, you saw his eyes. Beautiful, deep blues that looked far too innocent for what he did and what he was about to do with you next. He kissed you again and again, and again, and he held you close throughout the whole night, making you shiver, moan, cry, beg — until you fell asleep from exhaustion right in the safety of his arms. He turned your world upside down.

And then came the next morning, when you began to question the entire ordeal. You panicked, thinking about your friendship that you valued the most and Xavier, whom you just couldn’t bear to lose. However, when you wanted to put it past you, to blame the alcohol consumed that night, act as if it was just a slip of your judgement, a mistake, a reaction caused by the need of intimacy after being single for a long time, he wasn’t having it. He said that he couldn’t forget about it, that it changed things, and you blurted out the first thing that came into your mind. You proposed the whole arrangement.

And that’s how, after several months, your relationship with Xavier stayed clear and technically uncomplicated. Friends with benefits. You thought that even if that night did change things, then in this way you could act as if it wasn’t a big deal to you. In this way, you wouldn’t have to lose him, wouldn’t make things awkward. You still acted normally in front of each other, you continued to spend time in almost the same way you were before that faithful night, but with one drastic change.

Almost every encounter since that night ended with you in his bed or the other way around. Hours and hours spend in each other’s embrace, touching and feeling too much, all at once.

And said feelings were what made you finally decide that you couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t continue sharing with him this intimacy, pretending that everything between you remained unchanged. You couldn’t do this anymore, knowing that it was all that you’ll ever get from him, despite being in love with him for so long.

You knew that he would never reciprocate your feelings. You knew that from the beginning, from the very first touch of your fingertips that night, but you foolishly thought that having him close for as long as he wanted you, would be enough for you. Even if he wanted you only for your body, because you were the easiest choice.

However, your heart was breaking every time you were reminded of one significant fact, a harsh reality that felt like a bucket of cold water in your face.

He will never love you. Because you were not her.

And you would never be.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

You already had a strategy to end the arrangement. You wanted to take it slow, step by step, with just a bit of pain on your side. You knew it wasn't your best plan, but it was a plan nonetheless. You wanted to end the friends-with-benefits arrangement in a way that would make you both slowly, almost naturally, drift apart—so subtly that he wouldn't even notice the change. As for you, you were ready to bear the painful consequences of your actions, if it saved you from the excruciating pain of a broken heart later.

You started with avoiding his kisses.

And it turned out to be a tough job to do, because you didn’t realize before how much of a kisser Xavier became during your friends-with-benefits situation. It never really bothered you before, you always accepted every single kiss with content. However, during your last meeting, you were trying so hard to avoid his lips, and noticed that he made it into an almost impossible task.

When you went out one night, he wanted to kiss you three times during hot pot, even though you were sitting across from each other. You thought that the sitting situation was enough of an obstacle, but you quickly learned that he always somehow managed to find a chance to try to steal a kiss. That not only bewildered you, but also made you blush so hard that you had to blame the spicy food for it to not look suspicious. Yet, you managed to stay your ground and ignored his needy attempts at capturing your lips.

You also avoided his lips while you were later watching a movie in his apartment, by pretending that you didn’t see or feel his constant gaze on you. You thought that maybe if he saw that the movie engaged you so much, he would finally drop the attempts. Unfortunately, your plan failed the moment his patience thinned, when he started kissing your neck while cradling your body to his. He was grabbing at you almost desperately and you really couldn’t escape from every single kiss he was giving you, no matter how much you tried to. And you really tried to.

“Why—why are you turning your face away? A-Ah… Let me look at y-you—mmm.” He said between his moans, and he never once stopped thrusting inside you. It was the day when he took you on a sofa between his soft, plushy pillows with the movie still playing in the background. Your legs were laying on his shoulder, his both hands holding onto them tightly while his hips thrusted deep inside you, making you gasp in pleasure. When you didn’t respond and kept your head away, hoping that he would finally stop with his relentless kisses, his hand gently grabbed your face and turned it towards his so that your eyes met. He smiled softly, his cheeks pink and face damp. “Yes, there you are. You feel good? You wanna break?” He almost slurred and you adored how quickly he was loosing himself with you, how much he was loosing his composure. When you squeezed your eyes, moaning at a harder thrust and shook your head no, he whimpered. Next thing you knew, he lowered your legs onto the sofa and layed between them, bringing his body closer to yours. Your chests touched and you could feel his rapid heartbeat, mirroring the rhythm of your own. He nudged your head, which was still turned to the side, with his nose.

“Give me a kiss, c’mon, starlight.” He kissed your cheek, slowing down his thrusts to a lazy, delicate ones. “I couldn’t get a kiss all day, I need it. Let me.” And when you saw his eyes, full of desperation and something that reminded you of adoration, you couldn’t keep denying him. Your lips touched his and he didn’t let go of them until you came, and later when he began growling straight into your mouth, chasing his own undoing.

It was the last time you met up, and after that you decided that you had to cut it off completely. You couldn’t continue being with him like this, not when you knew that he already loved someone else. Being with him this close messed with your head. You didn’t want to feel like a convenient second choice and you couldn’t help but feel that your meetings were slowly becoming more and more intimate. You had to constantly remind yourself that you weren’t together. You made sure to label the change in your relationship properly at the start of the arrangement — still on friendly terms, with occasional mutual pleasure. But the close proximity and constant intimacy started to make the lines blurry in your mind.

And your heart couldn’t take it anymore, it hurt every time you reminded yourself that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, and that he never will.

After that movie night you decided that the next step to your goal would be to stop engaging in small talk with him, especially the one that occurred at work.

You worked together at the Hunter’s Association, he was one of the best Hunters out there, and you specialized in weapon modification from the safety of your own desk. You wanted to be a hunter once, but with your Evol involving micromodification you guessed that you could be needed in a position that involved working with weaponry. After working there for years, you were passionate about your work and elated to have a job you loved and where you thrived while helping others to the best of your abilities.

Thus, because of the shared place of employment, you saw Xavier almost every day. He was often near your desk, passing by it, putting snacks before you or teasing you with that soft smile of his. So cutting the contact out there was one of the toughest jobs for you, but it had to be done.

When you knew that he would be free, you found a task that needed completion in other departments, so that you will not cross paths. Often, instead of others coming to you to fix their weapons, you proposed to make the trip instead. In this way you were always quick on your feet, going from department to department, back to the workshop and again to the others’ desks. You didn’t mind the extra activity, it made you think less about your breaking heart.

And when Xavier managed to catch you from time to time, because he always somehow would, you were trying to appear too busy even for a small conversation.

“Where are you rushing off to again? I didn’t manage to talk to you these past few days.” He said one day when he caught you by your elbow while you were going out of the bathroom. He must’ve seen you go in there and wait for you to come out. He brought you a little closer to himself and looked at your face so intently, that you got scared he could see right through you.

“Sorry Xai, I’m just really busy lately.” You answered, maybe too quickly, and were trying to calm your beating heart upon seeing him so close again. Too close. It didn’t help that he was in his hunter’s uniform, that made him look twice as dreamy. You were so close that you could also smell his comforting scent and see the small scar on his cheek that he got last year after you two tried ice skating for the first time.

The first and the last, for it appeared that you were much better at it than he would ever be, and you wanted to avoid him getting hurt again. It was also before your friends-with-benefits situation, when your friendship was pure and healthy. Your heart squeezed remembering how he grabbed your hand then, and how tightly he used to hold it throughout the whole activity.

“Xavier, are you sure you don’t want to go back home already? I’m afraid that your cut will scar if we leave it like that.” You said, looking at the bandaid on his cheek, the only remedy for his small injury that you could provide at that time.

He squeezed your hand and still appeared sheepish after his fall. You secretly found him adorable, you never saw him doing something in which he didn’t excel in. It was as if he let you see a part of himself that no one had ever seen before. That thought made your chest warmer.

“No. I won’t let the ice defeat me.” He said surely and you knew that he won’t give up, even if his legs already visibly trembled from exhaustion. You let out a sigh. “Besides, you’re holding my hand now, so I feel much safer.” He looked at you, his voice soft and cheeks red, most likely from the cold air. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state made you completely overcome by the feeling of tenderness, and you send him a huge smile, thinking that it was the first time he relied on your protection, and not the other way around.

Little did you know that this smile would catch him by surprise so much that he slipped backwards, this time pulling you down with him. However, your reflexes slightly worked, because you managed to put your hand behind his head, shielding it from the impact with ice. You landed on him with a groan as his hands moved to pull your body closer.

“Oh god, Xai, are you okay? How did that happen?” You asked him, trying to lift yourself off of him. You felt him relax his head further into your hand, and when you raised yourself enough to face him directly, he sent you a wide smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. This sight made your heart melt.

“See, I knew you would protect me.” He replied, clearly referring to your hand behind his head. “My little savior.” He called you, and when you puffed the air out, annoyed that he could have hurt himself for real this time, his smile turned into a full laugh, his body shaking under yours. He looked so angelic, covered in snow, laughing in a way that was so scarce that you couldn’t help but join him in his moment of happiness.

And thanks to your mittens, your hand was left with only a purple bruise from the impact. Still, Xavier couldn’t let you forget about it up to the day it disappeared completely, expressing guilt for the minor injury, his sight chasing your hand every time it appeared in his line of vision. He often caressed it softly with his fingers, looking at it with a mysteriously thoughtful expression, whispering “My little savior.” under his breath. It made you wish that the bruise would never disappear.

You took a step back, suddenly overwhelmed by the memories and the closeness between you. He always invaded your personal space, stood so close that you could almost feel his breath on your face. This time, you had had to cut it out for your own good.

“S’okay. You’re always busy but I guess I just got used to meeting you near your desk. Just text me after work? Maybe we could meet up for our book club today.” He said and you swallowed the awful feeling of longing in your chest. Book club was the term you came up with when you both just wanted to sit and read together for hours. Unfortunately, you knew how book club sessions looked like since the beginning of your friends-with-benefits arrangement.

You were sitting together in silence, reading for hours, then talked about your books until you both lost your breaths. A wonderful experience, you adored your little reading sessions, but you knew that recently they always ended with his lips on yours, and with your clothes scattered around his bedroom.

You couldn’t let this go on forever. You couldn’t go back to being just friends now, and you couldn’t keep him so close, knowing that he will never fully be yours. You pitied your poor heart.

“Sure, will do. See you around!” You were aware how awkward you sounded, but before he could stop you, you were already off to your another task of the day.

You didn’t text him after work, and neither did you reply to his message in time. The next day you send him an excuse that you were tired and fell asleep quickly, and you hoped that he believed it or didn’t care enough to question you further.

If the distance hurt you this bad now, you couldn’t even imagine how would it feel when he eventually would’ve left you for her.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

The next stage of your plan involved not answering his texts at all. You allowed yourself small replies from time to time, most often very brief, if the situation called for it. Replying excuses from left to right. Then, you incorporated not picking up his calls, especially on weekends, when he appeared to want to see you the most, because you were absent from the Association building and he couldn’t catch even a glimpse of you.

The distance you yourself put between you broke your heart, and you were getting more and more depressed by the day. Ignoring the person you loved wasn’t easy, when he was the one with whom you wanted to spend your time the most.

To distract yourself from the situation, you were trying to pass your time differently. You were meeting up with your family and friends, or you started doing things that you were putting off for ages. Everything and anything to fill the void in your heart caused by the absence of the one you loved. The absence forced by you.

It had to be done, you reminded yourself daily. You had to end this somehow, no matter how it hurt you. You had to move on. You couldn’t still be in love with him the day he would end up with MC. You knew it would ruin you.

Three weeks passed since your last meeting at the Association and you could feel that Xavier was getting impatient. His calls were more frequent. His messages longer. Sometimes while running away from him at work you could catch how he was scanning the room in search of you. How frustrated he seemed to be. How upset.

You understood it. You were best friends after all, and he also probably needed someone near him to help him get his head clear of MC. You knew that it must’ve been hard for him. But you were sure you were doing the right thing, that’s why you kept avoiding him during the past month, and not only it was the longest period you’ve been away from each other since the start of your complicated arrangement, but also the longest time since the start of your friendship. Even when the times were rough, you managed to see each other at least once or twice a week.

You felt the pain of the distance too. Missing him almost every second of the day. But you had your reasons. You didn’t want to try to satiate the hunger he felt for another woman anymore.

So every time his name appeared on your phone screen, along with the picture of him shoving two muffins into his mouth at the same time, you closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and waited out the signal, simultaneously praying for and dreading the silence.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

On a quiet rainy day, after a month of ignoring almost every attempt to make contact from Xavier, you heard your phone ping thrice. You sighed and put the book you were reading down, deciding that it was a good moment to reply something short to him in order to slightly ease his worries, and make him feel less alarmed. You wanted distance, but you still sticked to responding from time to time, to appear casual. To let the connection break off less abruptly.

xavier: why cant I see U at all recently.

xavier: why are U not picking up my calls and not replying to my texts.

xavier: are U hiding from me?

you: Of course not, just busy.

xavier: busy for me but not busy for others I know U are going out all the time.

xavier: are U mad at me? did I do something wrong.

you: No, you didn’t, don’t worry. It’s just me. I have a lot of things on my mind recently.

xavier: could U please have me on Ur mind too? I miss U.

xavier: so bad it hurts

You let out a rugged breath, and decided to stop responding, but then another text came. This time, making your blood run cold.

xavier: going back from a rough mission right now i think i need help.

you: Oh my god, are you okay? Are you injured?

xavier: cant tell U why dont you come and see me for Urself.

you: Fine, I need to see if you’re okay. Do you need anything? Food? Medicine? I will pick something up on my way there.

xavier: i just need U

You closed your eyes and hid your face in your palms, then swore it would be the last time. You will go in, treat his wounds and go out. It had to be the last time you allowed yourself to be this close to him, and then you had to cut him off completely. A month wasn’t enough to heal your broken heart, and these small sightings won’t make your heart feel any less burdened.

It had to end today.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

When the door opened, he managed to take your breath away once more.

First, only figuratively. His beauty always managed to amaze you. He looked so handsome no matter the circumstances, his hair so fluffy and shiny, his face like that of an angel, with sharp jawline and soft, pink lips almost screaming at you to be kissed. When you met his eyes, you almost gasped at the intensity of his deep blue gaze. There wasn’t a thing about him you didn’t miss terribly after so much time apart.

Then, literally, when the first thing he did was grabbing your hand and hugging you tightly to his chest, that was still clothed in his hunter uniform. He pressed his face into the crown of your hair and touched the nape of your neck, holding it gently with his cold hand.

“Was the mission that difficult?” You asked, thinking that his reaction to you was mostly due to his need for someone else’s closeness. The need for security. “Were you in danger?” You asked quietly, fear bubbling in your mind.

“No. I lied.” He murmured and you felt him squeezing you even harder, inhaling your scent with content. His hand started stroking your back, slowly making its way under your thin coat. “Didn’t know what else to say to make you come see me.” He said and you hoped that he couldn’t hear, nor feel the sound of your erratic heartbeat.

He shouldn’t say things like these, it made you feel too hopeful. You tried to push that feeling down, knowing that’s how he normally acted with you, his best friend. You knew that he didn’t have a lot of people beside him, thus he treasured the ones that stayed. And that thought made you so incredibly apologetic that you had to swallow the tension in your throat. You hated that you fell for him so hard. You hated that you had to leave him because of it. You hated that you knew, that he would blame himself when you’ll leave.

And you started to hate yourself the most because of all of it.

“Did you miss me that much?” You teased, trying to calm yourself with a friendly banter.

“Yes.” The answer was immediate. The kiss he placed on your temple as natural as breathing. “Everything and everyone seems to be taking you away from me these days.” He said and you could hear him sulking. Your heart squeezed again, but you knew that you were doing the right thing. The distance was necessary.

Necessary for you to avoid breaking. You had to protect yourself first, you decided. You couldn’t remain in love with him forever. You had to move on and in order to do that you had to keep the distance. Which was impossible with him around, when he craved physical touch so badly.

You started to be so mad at yourself for breaking your streak today. You didn’t realize how touchy he will be after some time apart and it was getting to your head. You were so conflicted. You felt too much, and that was always the case when you were around him.

He was in love with someone else. Your head was screaming loudly, trying to calm the wave of unwanted emotions.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. I love you, you thought. “But now I’m here, so maybe I can inspect you for any injuries? You always seem to neglect them as long as they don’t make you bleed out.” You managed to free yourself from his hold and missed how his hands went after you for a second. He didn’t want you to put distance between you two. Not yet, not ever.

He looked into your beautiful, shiny eyes and nodded without a thought. He couldn’t say no to you, not when he saw the still remaining hint of worry in them. Besides, checking for injuries always came with physical contact, and he was so starved. He needed to feel your body close to his. Your hands on him, somewhere, anywhere, everywhere. He felt addicted and craved some kind of relief. He looked after you like a lost puppy, following your footsteps closely, touching the familiar material of your coat that you left on a counter. The distance this past month made him feral, every part of his body screamed to hold you and don’t let go.

You sat down on his couch, and patted the place next to you, hinting at him to sit beside you. He was trying not to appear too eager while doing so, and also when he started taking off the upper part of his uniform. He was almost shaking with excitement knowing that you really came to see him. That you were worried about him. The distance was making him sick. Furious. Desperate. Hurt.

He suppressed a shudder when you touched his shoulder and peeled away the material off his back completely. Your hands were pleasantly warm, as always. He bit his lip trying not to gasp from the contact.

He needed more.

“Xavier.” He hummed, giddy inside upon finally hearing his name from your lips. He was bracing for your outburst. Couldn’t wait for it. “You said you lied about the mission being hard, while having a fucking gash on your back? I-I can’t believe you...” He heard your angry, shaky voice and smirked unintentionally. You were worried about him and he liked that. He liked the attention, when it was coming from you.

Yet, you didn’t know that.

You cursed under your breath and went to grab the first aid kit from one of his drawers, and proceeded to patch the man back up, having no idea that he allowed the Wanderer to injure him, to have an excuse to see you. To keep you with him for a minute longer, even if it was only under the pretense of tending to his injuries. He was ready to do anything at this point to keep you from slipping away from his grasp.

If you knew that, you wouldn’t be so adamant on distancing yourself.

But because you didn’t know, you also didn’t predict that after patching him up, he would propose you to eat dinner with him, making up an excuse that he didn’t want to be alone with his pain. Later, when you wanted to come back to your place, he mentioned he wanted to play kitty cards, the game you adored. You couldn’t refuse him.

During the next hours you spent at his place you both talked in the same way you always used to - about everything and anything, exchanging opinions, stories and everyday thoughts. You laughed together for the first time in weeks, and your cheeks hurt from how much he was able to make you smile. You always had so much fun with him, he was your favorite person in the whole world. You missed him so bad, despite knowing that you couldn’t back out from your plan fully. Yet, you allowed yourself a little break, telling yourself that it was in order for your distancing to not look suspicious. In addition, he was injured, and you felt the need to comfort him in any way you could. The gash on his back wasn’t that deep, but it worried you regardless.

The atmosphere changed drastically only when he managed to win the next round of kitty cards. You jokingly frowned at him, forging displeasure, and he looked directly at your pounting lips. The time seemed to stop when you noticed that look. He raised his hand to touch your collarbone, caressing it with his fingers, up to your neck and over your cheek. He looked deeply into your eyes, and you noticed how dark his became. You found it fascinating that his soft gaze could change so drastically in a matter of seconds.

His hand reached out to grab your chin and brought your face closer to his. And when he whispered: “Could I ask for a reward?” with that dangerous, needy voice of his, you knew that you couldn’t deny him anything.

When your lips touched, you decided that it will be the last time you let it happen. It would be your goodbye, before loosing the feel of his touch. You thought that you could at least make the best of it, get lost in the artificial feeling of being treasured for the last time, before you started the last phase of your plan.

After that, you had to cut off the ties with him completely. No matter the measures. No matter the pain.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

“Xavier, m-maybe not today?” You asked when you realized how low he was going with his kisses. You knew what he was about to do, and you hated how much you couldn’t contain the sounds that were coming out of your mouth when he was doing it. Besides, it didn’t feel like a mutual pleasure anymore, it felt like an act of service and you were not sure you wanted him to pleasure only you.

He looked at you, having already dropped to his knees. He looked ruined, his hair already a mess from the touch of your fingers, lips wet and swollen, shirt off displaying his toned chest, bandaged in the center with caution. He was practically heaving. The sight made you blush.

“Why not?” He voice sounded whiny, his lips already kissing the inside of your thigh as if he couldn’t restrain himself. Every kiss send electricity to your already wet core and you found it hard to think clearly. His hands were grabbing your tights possessively, relishing in their softness. “Please, let me eat you out. I’ll make you feel good, I promise.” The pleading in his eyes was so apparent. So unfiltered.

“Don’t you want to get to the point already?” You offered shyly and he huffed out a laugh.

“Where are you trying to run off to this time?” It sounded like a joke, but he appeared annoyed. “Relax, starlight and let me take care of you. Please.” You still hesitated. It made him pout. “I need it, please, star. I want to taste you so bad. I didn’t manage to last time.” He kissed your knee and put his head on it, looking for the answer in your unsure eyes. “Will you let me?” His pleading tone, along with his desperate gaze was what made you break. You whispered a soft confirmation and it was all it took before he quickly put his mouth on your core, licking vigorously, devouring you like the most delicious thing on the planet.

“Mmmm.” You heard him humming, before your own cries, along with the constant tremble of your legs, drowned out any other sound.

He was elated.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

“Mmmh— Yes. Yes. H—holy—” He whimpered at the same time with his thrusts and squeezed your waist harder, moving his hands up and down your back, caressing it affectionately. “You are s-so warm, so beautiful, fuck—” He moaned when you tightened on him. You stiffed a whimper and tried to commit to memory the touch of his strong hands.

He was taking you slowly from behind and the pace was almost unbearable for you. You needed more, and you couldn’t stand how romantic it felt when he was this gentle with you. However, at the same time you didn’t want him to strain himself, you were aware that the slow pace was reasonable due to the injury on his back. The slow pace did surprise you either way, you thought that after so much time apart he would be quick and rough, chasing his pleasure faster than he normally would. Instead, he acted even more passionately than usual.

The slow pace brought you so much pleasure that you couldn’t contain the sounds escaping from your lips. He kept pressing your most sensitive spots, his thrusts slow, deep and precise. His forehead rest on the back of your shoulder, and you could feel his hot, labored breath pressing against your damp skin.

He made you feel so appreciated, and so cared for, and that made you uneasy. More so, with the accompaniment of the things he was constantly saying to you, from the moment you allowed him to touch you today.

“Can you turn around now? Please, my star, I want to see you.” He half-whispered and started kissing your neck, then moving his mouth to every patch of your skin he could reach: your shoulders, back, arms. No place was left unkissed under his relentless lips. You shook your head no, you didn’t want to let this become even more passionate than it already was. You positioned yourself facing the headboard of the bed from the very beginning, and you were adamant to keep your stance up until the end. You feared that your eyes would betray you, displaying your feelings for him and that was what made you not lose your composure.

Upon hearing your refusal for the third time this night, he proceeded to voice his frustrations by grunting, and thrust into you a little harder. You moaned loudly, surprised at the sudden change of tempo.

“Please, starlight.” He begged, his voice achingly earnest. He picked up the pace and you almost choked with how deep he reached inside of you now. You thought that you could never get used to how big he was, his girth filling you up to the brim. “Turn around. T-turn around for me.”

“X-xavier slow down, I don’t want you to get hurt—” You managed to choke out, grasping sheets with your hands for some kind of stability. You closed your eyes when they were turning upwards, biting your lip in the process. He felt otherworldly, but you couldn’t help but think about the gash on his back. He shouldn’t strain himself.

“Then turn around and look at me.” He repeated and you shook your head again.

“I-I can’t, I—Ah—”

“W-why do you keep—Mmh—denying me?” His voice came out like a growl and he kept up the fast tempo. Then, he grabbed your shoulder and put his other hand on your lower back, making you bend over more. His thrusts got even faster, making you moan louder. “Like that. Yes.” You breathed quietly. So good. He was so, so good. “I just want to see your face. I need to kiss y—A—Ah—Kiss you so bad, so, so, so bad.” He thrusted more deeply, making you involuntarily back out from the stimulation, your body almost collapsing, but he quickly grabbed you with his strong arms, and brought you even closer to him. You saw stars and touched one of the arms that held your whole body — from your waist, between your breasts, to your neck. His arm was so hard, so strong. He was huge compared to you. “No, n-no, don’t run away, star. You feel so good—G-God how I missed this—” He held you closer by the second, pressing more kisses to your shoulders, his thrusts becoming quicker, less deep. You were holding back your tears from how good he felt inside you. “I missed you. I missed you. I miss you.” He started babbling and that’s how you knew he was close.

To your surprise, he suddenly pulled out of you completely and grabbed you by your shoulders, turning you around to finally face him. Before you could show any signs of protest, he lowered himself onto his forearms, caging your head between his biceps so that he could have a perfect view of your face. He took his cock in one of his hands and he slipped himself into you again with ease. You shuddered and cried out softly with astonishment.

“Xavier—!”

“Yes. Yes, that’s my name.” He started thrusting into you again, this time much slower and more attentive, and looked deep into your eyes. You had nowhere to run, the only thing you could do was to close your eyes, but the sight of him so close made you want to never look away. “Say it one more time. Just once.” He looked ethereal, his silver hair wet from the perspiration that gathered oh his forehead, and his cheeks painted a pretty shade of red. You could see how blissful he felt. “So p-pretty.” He finally kissed your lips softly. “So sweet.” He licked into your mouth, deepening the kiss. It made your toes curl, you loved when he kissed you this sloppily. When he released your already swollen lips, there was a string of saliva connecting you. It was all so intense.

“Why were you denying my kisses?” He kissed you again deeply, sucking on your tongue. His slow thrusts made you go insane. “You don’t like kissing me like this?” He sucked on your lips until they were red and swollen. There was so much saliva. He licked them and kissed them again. “I could come from this feeling alone. So soft.” You were shocked at how much he talked. Was he always this talkative? Or were you realizing it only now, when you knew that the closeness with him would soon come to an end?

“Am I making you feel good? Yeah?” You decided to nod at him truthfully, your moans short, resembling small hiccups. You were lost in the pleasure, you could feel the end approaching. He put his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “W—wow, you—you sound so adorable, I won’t last long—” He moaned and grabbed your face in his hands, kissing your nose first, then softly your lips.

“Yes, yeah, let go. Let go my little star. My starlight, my treasure.” He whispered into your ear, feeling you clench down on him as you came with his name on your lips. You felt him reaching the end quickly after you, he shuddered, his mouth opened, and he released into the condom with a low moan. Still cumming, he took your face into his hands and kissed your forehead gently. When you both were still coming down from the high, breathing heavily, he began stroking your hair, pushing it out of your face, and kissing your cheeks.

What in the world was all that?

God, you couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t let this keep up, it felt too real, too romantic, and your heart really couldn’t take it. Not when every time you were together like this you keep thinking that he would like you to be someone else instead. Did he imagined her under him this time? You trembled, scared because of that thought, but the things he was saying made you feel that it really could be the case.

Your breath came out shakily and you took his muscular forearms in your palms and grazed them gently with your thumbs. You let yourself feel for the last time how warm his body was, how pleasurable his weight on top of you. You kept your eyes closed to not let him see your tears, but you couldn’t stop one from going down your cheek.

And of course he saw it as soon as it appeared. He seemed to always look at you when you wanted him to ignore you the most.

He kissed it off, swiped the wetness with his thumb and proceeded to kiss your temple.

“Why are you crying?” He asked softly, his eyebrows furrowed. “Did I hurt you?” He appeared so concerned, and you felt the shivers going down your spine.

Yes, you wanted to scream.

“No, of course not.” You said instead. Because it was your fault for feeling too much. “I’m okay, just tired.” You lied straight to his face. He send you a small smile and kissed your closed eyelids gently.

And when he shifted and pulled out from you slowly with a little hiss, you let out a sigh and knew that your time with him had to end now.

But before you could lift yourself up, he hugged you from the side and put his head on your chest. He was listening to the sound of your heartbeat, and you already knew that it had a soothing effect on him. His hand started caressing one side of your waist, his hair touching your chin, his scent overlapping you. You could feel his heartbeat on you, fast but steady. Another tear escaped from your eyes. You had to run away. You couldn’t take the closeness anymore. It was too painful.

“Xavier, I—” You swallowed the sob forming in your throat. Your voice came out rusty. “I really need to go.”

“Already? Stay with me for a little while longer.” He squeezed you harder to himself, showing no intention of releasing you from his hold. You hated that you needed to cut short such a vulnerable moment with him. “The night is still young. I thought we could maybe watch something together? Or bake these cinnamon cookies you like? I practiced, they taste and look almost perfect now.” You closed your eyes hard, moved by his thoughtfulness, and you almost sobbed audibly if it wasn’t for your hand quickly covering your mouth.

But he felt it, and it made all the muscles in his body tighten, as if he was struck.

“Star?” He loosed his hold on you and quickly studied your face. “What’s wrong?” His eyes became huge, filled with worry. And that concern on his features was what finally made you run.

You raised gently and pushed yourself from him, starting to pick up your scattered pieces of clothing. Your hands shakily put the panties and your sweater on your trembling body, not once looking Xavier’s way. He was waiting patiently for your answer.

“I can’t do this anymore, Xavier.” You replied, feeling more comfortable now that you had some clothes on. You couldn’t meet his eyes, but you heard him standing up from the bed.

“Do what?” He sounded puzzled. You heard him grabbing and putting on some pants hastily, clicking his belt in place. As if he was preparing to run after you. “Did I do something wrong? You didn’t like it today? Was I too intense?” You had never heard him speak so quickly, and the panic in his tone was a rare occurrence too.

“No, it’s— I am at fault here.” You answered truthfully, and you took a couple steps away from him. You wanted to run as fast as you could but for the love of God, you couldn’t locate any other pieces of your clothing. Your eyesight was clouded by unleashed tears. No, not now, you couldn’t let them fall until you were in the safety of your home.

“But you were perfect.” His voice carried more panic by the second. “We could change some things. You could tell me what to do differently, everything works with me as long as I do it with you.”

You suddenly remembered the beginning of your night, and rushed to his living room, were you finally found your pants.

“No. No, and please stop trying to persuade me. This—this friends with benefits thing, it ends now.” You uttered surely, now fully clothed. You turned around and finally laid your eyes on him, and saw him wearing only black jeans and a miserable expression on his face. God, he still looked perfect. He almost shined, the workout clearly visible on his face, his hair, his lips. Your resolution almost wavered.

“Okay. Okay, of course, I—I understand.” He answered quickly, and you felt a slight pang in your chest at how easily he took the news. This whole time you were so easily disposable. “But please stay. I want to spend some time with you, I haven’t seen you in such a long time.” He took a careful step towards you, and you wanted to bolt then and there. “Please, stay.”

“No, Xai, I—” You paused to take a breath, trying not to crumble in front of him. His worried expression felt like a knife to your chest. You were his best friend, yet here you were, clearly wanting to run away from him—how could you expect him to feel anything but hurt upon such a sight? You felt incredibly cruel. “I really can’t. I think I need a break from all—all of this.”

“You mean from me?” He didn’t wait for your answer, the thoughts in his head seemed to go quicker than lightning. “No, please, I swear that if you don’t like it then I won’t touch you anymore. I swear.” You hated how upset he sounded. You closed your eyes for a second and fresh tears slipped away. You couldn’t keep them from falling anymore. “You know how much you mean to me. Don’t make me stay away.” He looked as if you were tearing his heart out, his posture slumped, hands shaking. How you wished you could take them into your own and warm them up.

“I have to.” Your voice came out whiny. He stepped closer to you, keeping his arms in front of himself.

“But why?” His question was quiet, nearly a whisper. He couldn’t help but wonder, if you really wanted a break from him, then why were you crying as if you didn’t want to go?

“I—” You stopped yourself before going as far as to utter a confession. He couldn’t know. Not now. Not ever. “This— This situation, and how our friendship looks like right now it’s—it’s so wrong.” You opted for a response that was the closest to the truth.

“It’s not.” He replied immediately. “Not for me.”

“Well it is for me. Friends don’t sleep with each other, Xavier! We messed up so bad this time and I’m afraid we can’t let this past us.”

“Do you regret it that much?” His voice was losing its’ strength, and he seemed so utterly hurt. Meanwhile, you were just trying to protect yourself from feeling even more pain. How could you make him understand without confessing to him? You didn’t really know because you were always honest with him before. He was your safe place.

And to think that everything could be avoided, your friendship left unscratched if only you could control your feelings better. But you had no idea how to stop loving him so deeply, when he was everything that you’ve ever dreamed of.

“I should. I know that I should, it was never going to end well, I—”

“Stay. Please, starlight, stay. At least for one more night, let me hold you just for one more—” His arms went out to grab you and you flinched, taking a few steps back. His jaw tightened.

He was always afraid that he will see you run away from his touch. He felt as if his nightmare became reality - the thought of loosing you too much for him to bear.

“Xavier, I can’t!” You trembled all over. Why did he make this so hard for you? “I can’t do this with you anymore, can’t you understand how much it hurts me?” The truth was at the tip of your tongue, craving to be spoken out loud.

“Why? Why does it hurt you? The only one who has a good reason to be hurt is me, you avoided me, ignored me, and for what? If you just talked to me honestly one time—”

“You are in love with someone else!”

The silence that followed was unbearable and seemed to last ages. Slow ticking of the clock was the only thing cutting through the tension, reminding you that the time didn’t stop, even if your heart seemed to do so.

You turned to him, the tears falling from your eyes in cascades now and your chest was coming up and down rapidly with how fast you were breathing.

The tears run down your cheeks quickly, making your vision less blurry. How you wished that they stayed in place, if that meant that you wouldn’t have to see Xavier’s pained expression, that quickly changed into one of utter confusion. You were shaking with how much you were feeling, your frustration pooling out of you in a form of shaking hands and bitten lips.

“I can’t continue being like this with you when I know that you’re in love with her! And I get it! I really do. She’s so wonderful, and so, so lovable. And I could never be her, no matter how much you would want me to be. I just don’t want to be a replacement anymore.” You continued, the desperation in your voice almost making you wince. You sounded pathetic and felt so embarrassed for it. You felt as if you were loosing the ground beneath your feet.

“What?” He said completely stunned. He wasn’t moving a single muscle. “What on earth are you talking about?” He hissed, and took a step towards you, and when you shook your head and wanted to bolt through the door, he quickly grabbed you by your wrist and pressed your body close to his. You gasped at the contact, so sudden and forced. “No, stop running away from me!” He raised his voice, still holding your wrist tightly. You’ve never heard him sound so irritated. “Speak.” You kept your head low, when he was desperately trying to catch eye contact, but you couldn’t look at him right now. Not when your true feelings were basically flowing to the surface.

“About what? You really thought I didn’t know about your feelings for her?” You struggled to keep your voice from shaking. “Xavier, I know, and I knew from the very beginning, and you really don’t have to explain yourself to me. I really understand.” You tried to free your wrist from his grasp, but he held it too tightly. You needed to run, this conversation wasn’t supposed to happen, you didn’t even have a reason to be mad at him. You couldn’t blame him for not loving you romantically, nor for feeling this way towards someone else. You were only friends, and friends should be happy for each other when they find someone dear to them, not sick of the idea of loosing the other to someone else.

“I’m afraid you actually don’t understand anything.” He sounded almost defeated. His voice back to it’s soft tone, but his hold on you unrelenting.

“It’s really okay, I—”

“No.” He scoffed. You finally gained enough courage to let your eyes meet his and you were instantly appalled at how furious he appeared to be. “It’s truly NOT.” He released your wrist and put his hands up to stroke his hair back. He breathed out loudly. “Who the fuck are you talking about?” He asked, confusion and irritation taking over his features completely. You never saw him wear that expression while talking with you.

“Oh, don’t make me—” You cut off, seeing his furious glare. You took a deep breath, stepped back from him and touched your cheek, trying to swipe the wetness caused by your tears. You failed, they were still coming down, one by one, making your efforts futile. “MC. You know that I mean MC.”

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” He groaned and let his head fall back. He covered his face with his hands for a second, and when he looked at you again, you couldn’t read his expression correctly. “Who told you about it? Where did you get it from?”

“Jeremiah.” That’s all he needed to know. And apparently it was enough for him to grasp the situation. He laughed humorlessly and shook his head, his hands squeezed tightly into fists by his sides.

“I will strangle him this time. I swear, I will—”

“Oh, please, Xavier, stop! What’s so wrong about me knowing? I was glad that someone finally enlightened me!” You couldn’t believe that he was so angry at you for knowing such an important thing. Not when from the moment Jeremiah said that he had a thing for MC for a long time, you wondered why he kept that a secret from you. “You never even said a word about it even though I thought we were best friends. I had to learn from someone else and that already hurt.” You wanted this conversation to be over. You wanted him to admit to it already and let you go away, with a broken, but at least free heart.

But he had different plans.

“Have you maybe thought that I never said a word about it simply because it wasn’t true?” He asked carefully, his voice still angry. “I just can’t believe you thought that I loved someone else—”

“What?” Your mind went blank. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts. “What do you mean it’s not true?” You sniffed quietly, confusion taking over your face.“B-But Jeremiah said that you had a past with her and—”

“I did. I had feelings for her once, but that was literal lifetimes ago!” His irritation didn’t ease in the slightest. “I had feelings for someone who looked similar to her. But she’s not the same person anymore, and even if she was I couldn’t possibly fall in love with her. Not now, not ever.” You stopped in your tracks, trying to analyze everything he was saying to you and failing miserably at it. You looked at his face, your expression puzzled, searching for an answer there, hidden between his beautiful, soft features. It shocked you to see that now he started to calm himself down, gaze genuine, an image of complete transparency.

You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea that you were mistaken. All this time, when you thought you never stood a chance, when you thought that he loved another, when you wanted to let him go—

“You’re not in love with MC.” It wasn’t a question anymore, your voice quiet while you were trying to process that thought. He must’ve seen how you fought with the thoughts inside your head, because he released a groan and took a step towards you. You unintentionally took one step back. He frowned.

“Of course I’m not.” Voice sweet like honey, stance sure, his eyes searched desperately for yours. He looked at your face, covered in tears and his eyebrows furrowed deeper, hating how upset you seemed and didn’t know how to reverse it. “How could I ever be, when your face is all I can see, every time I close my eyes?” He uttered looking at you with such devotion that it almost made your knees buckle.

Complete silence took over your thoughts after his confession. You didn’t know what was happening.

But fortunately, his mind finally started to piece everything together in a picture, that although was beyond frustrating to think about, was giving him so much hope for something he thought he already lost.

He allowed himself to relax, took a deep breath and finally decided to drop his inner shackles, letting his emotions flow out of him without restraint.

“You are the one that I love.” He said clearly, not moving a muscle. He wondered if you could see the quick movement of his chest, with how hard his heart was trying to escape through it to reach you. Whereas, you felt as if yours stopped moving completely, along with the time around you, not ready to believe that this was truly happening. “It was you from the very beginning. I adored you since the day I first saw you.” He continued, his gaze piercing into your face, slight confusion visible on his features. “And I thought that was obvious? I wasn’t exactly the best at hiding my feelings, especially after I told you about them the first night we spend together.”

You blinked slowly. Once, then twice.

Your head hurt. You couldn’t wrap it around everything he was saying. Xavier was in love with you? And he already told you about it? You were so confused that the only way you knew how to react was with denial.

“You—You didn’t. I didn’t know, you are not being serious.” He shook his head in disbelief.

“I did. You really don’t remember?” His tone softened, and he waited a short second for your answer, but couldn’t contain his nerves. “It was the night I kissed you for the first time, thinking that would be the last. But you reciprocated.” His eyes gleamed in the moonlight, and you found yourself holding your breath, afraid even the slightest sound might interrupt the flow of his confession.

“You—You kissed me back, and let me do things to you I only ever dared to dream about before.” He took another step your way, a small smile grazing his handsome face. “And the confession slipped out of me so naturally before we even reached the bed.” He briefly recalled that fateful night, describing the conversations you forgot, but longed to remember since that very moment.

“You didn’t reply, but you responded nicely to my touch, so I thought that meant that you wanted me too, that maybe you’d accept me. As your beloved. Your soulmate.” You brought your hand to cover your mouth. You couldn’t believe it. “But then in the morning when you woke up, you were panicking. I tried to reassure you, but you weren’t listening to me.”

That part of the story you knew by heart, him telling you that he couldn’t forget, didn’t want to forget. Back then you didn’t connect it with anything close to confession, but more with the change in your relationship. You really didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, you didn’t even dream about him loving you, when you though that he loved MC. Insecurities and false assumptions completely clouded your vision.

“And when you proposed staying friends, with the bonus of intimacy, of course I took the chance. I thought you remembered my confession and didn’t reciprocate my feelings, but I was so desperate that I would take anything you were willing to give me, even if it didn’t involve your love. I—” he cut off, blush flushed over his cheeks, up to the tips of his ears. He took a shaky breath. “I was clinging to the hope that maybe through the new shared intimacy I could show you how much you meant to me. And maybe, maybe someday you would start feeling the same, when you realized how good we are together and how good I can be for you.”

“Xavier—Oh my god.” You breathed, your hand still covering your mouth, your eyes never leaving his face. His beautiful, starstruck face, now so full of confusion and unspoken hurt. “Bunny, I’m so, so, so sorry. I had no idea, I—” Your voice practically a whisper, you were still coming to terms with the fact that your feelings were reciprocated. And that you were the one who complicated things between you. “I don’t remember anything you said to me that night. I couldn’t even hear you through the sound of my own blood thrumming in my ears, that’s how drunk I felt. How overwhelmed after our first kiss.”

The alcohol consumed that night also wasn’t of big help. You were a lightweight and you drunk only occasionally, so the few drinks you had already made you feel dizzy. Mixed with the intensity of your emotions, it overwhelmed you so intensely that his touch was all you could remember from that night. But now you could make it all alright.

“I only remember your touch, the things we did, and our conversation the next morning. I remember touching your hand and initiating the kiss, and my tipsy brain just thought that you went with it to forget about MC.” You said truthfully, letting it all pour out of you. Your cheeks burned with the embarrassment of admitting how desperate you were for him, that the thought he loved another didn’t stop you from having sex with him.

Then the blush deepened from the realization that from the very beginning the only one he was thinking about was you.

This thought made your head spin, the happiness slowly bubbling in your chest. Your whole body trembled.

“That’s— Fuck. You really don’t remember.” He shook his head again, realizing how deep the misunderstanding reached. “You didn’t initiate anything. I was the one who kissed you first.”

“No, I—”

“Yes. You touched my hand, smiled at me contentedly and said some things and I—I just couldn’t restrain myself any longer.” This time you were the one who started approaching him slowly. You needed him close. Always. And you realized that now you didn’t have any reasons to deny yourself that lack of distance. “You looked so soft, so open and kissable, and I just went for it. And then you reciprocated.” The light in his eyes started sparkling when he noticed that you were finally coming closer to him. He reached out his hand for you and you took it gently, still shaking from the unspoken emotions.

“I can’t believe it. All this time I thought that you were in love with someone else.” His hand was warm, the touch electrifying. You squeezed his hand and intertwined your fingers together. You saw how between your clasped hands, his Evol started shining brightly, shading soft light upon your features. It was a sign that he was excited. “I tried to put a distance between us, end this intimacy because I thought that I was just a second best for you. An easy distraction.”

“How could you think that? Almost from the moment I met you, I have loved you passionately—” He brought you even closer together, pulling you by your intertwined hands, and put his other hand on your cheek. He swiped the reminder of your tears with his fingers, looking into your eyes with a devotion so apparent that it took your ability to form coherent thoughts. How did you manage to miss the way he was always looking your way?

“X-Xavier.”

“I couldn’t even think about anyone else even if I tried to. You occupy my every thought. How could I ever find a place for somebody else in my heart when you fill the space out completely?” Everything that came out of his mouth was laced with impatience. He was trying so hard to make you understand him, and the intensity of his emotions. He couldn’t psychically hold it inside anymore, he restrained himself for so long that he felt as if all of his walls finally crumbled. He needed you to know everything.

“I love you, starlight. I’m so in love with you that I couldn’t contain that feeling inside anymore. I couldn’t even spend five minutes in your presence without trying to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you. My whole body longs for you constantly.” He said, thinking off the months after you started being friends with benefits. How at first he wasn’t sure how much he could take from you, and then, when he noticed that you didn’t mind the affection outside the bedroom, he couldn’t contain himself. He kissed you every time he had a chance, he touched you everywhere he could, he was trying to stay away from you as little as possible. Despite thinking that you did not reciprocate his feelings fully, his love for you flowed out of him naturally, every look and every touch laced with unconditional devotion.

During the period of your silence and avoiding him, he thought that it was because he finally crossed a line. He let his feelings out too much, he finally made you uncomfortable. He was starting to act as you lover, not as your friend and it wasn’t what you agreed to. He thought you still didn’t love him and maybe that was a sign that you never will. And even if that could be the case, he still couldn’t let you go.

And it appeared that he didn’t have to.

That you were not uncomfortable, but unsure.

That it was all a huge misunderstanding.

And the words that came out of your pretty, little mouth next, almost brought him to his knees.

“Xavier. Xavier me too, I—” You stuttered, completely overwhelmed by how much you were feeling. You squeezed his wrists, and looked deep into his beautiful, hopeful eyes. “I love you too. And I fell in love with you long before our first night together. I just thought that it was wishful thinking, because your heart was already taken by someone else. And that I could just stay beside you as your friend and that would be enough. And then share your bed from time to time, if that meant that I could hold you close, be on the receiving end of your affection.” You said and raised on your feet to place a quick kiss on his lips. He chased after you instantly, despite appearing stunned. You noticed his hands were shaking.

“You really mean it?” He asked, leaning towards you, kissing your lips again, this time for longer. He had trouble keeping his mouth away from yours, especially now, that he knew that every one of your kisses was filled with love. “Am I not dreaming this time?” You smiled and stroked his hair affectionately, petting his head, wanting to convey your feelings in every way possible.

“Xavier, I love you.” You repeated, grabbing his head in your palms and looking deep into his eyes. Your voice was strong, leaving no room for uncertainty. “I love you so mu—” He didn’t let you finish that sentence, because he quickly picked you up and spun you around, holding you in his arms. You giggled and put your arms around his neck, holding him tightly, his face buried in your neck. When he stopped, he quickly found your lips again and that kiss felt groundbreaking.

He held you close to him, one hand squeezing you by your waist, and the other holding your jaw gently. His brows furrowed in desperation and his kisses were slow, sensual, sending pleasant shocks throughout your whole body. His tongue made an appearance, and he tasted you in a way that made your legs feel like jelly. He licked into your mouth, grunting lowly, his fingers placing a strand of your hair behind your ear, then tracing patterns on your warm cheek. When you opened your eyes for a second, you could see that the tips of his ears were red. The blush spread through his cheeks too, making him look so adorable.

“It does feel like a dream.” He breathed between kisses. “And sounds too good to be true.” He captured your lips again and you smiled into his mouth. Your heart was about to burst.

“I love you.” You repeated, basking in the feeling of finally being able to say it out loud, be open with your emotions. He released your lips and kissed your forehead. You looked up, and he placed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a wide smile adorning his face.

“Don’t stop saying that. You make me so happy.” He said quietly, and you whispered the confession once again, making him sigh shakily.

“I was so stupid. I should’ve asked you right from the start if what Jeremiah said was true.” You said and hugged him more tightly. “I should’ve told you sooner.” You placed your head on his strong chest, your ear touching his bare body, listening to his fast heartbeat. Your hands were hugging his waist, mindful not to touch his bandaged back.

“No, I foolishly thought that telling you once would suffice. I forgot that you drank that night and that could’ve clouded your memory.” He squeezed you harder to himself and started back away with you in his arms, until the back of his legs touched his couch. He feel into it, holding you close, making you sit on his lap. “To think that I could have you sooner—” He looked into your eyes, as if searching for something.

“You had me before, and you have me now. My heart, my body, my soul.” You positioned yourself more comfortably, placing your legs on both sides of his waist, and took his face into your hands. He closed his eyes at the contact, and started to caress your body, from your waist, down to your legs. He squeezed the plush of your tights and let his head fall against the couch pillows.

He couldn’t believe that this was happening. He prayed that this wasn’t a dream, that all of the things your were telling him were true. His chest vibrated pleasurably, incredible warmth spreading through it. His heart beat so quickly, and so loudly that he thought it was the first time he felt its’ beat so intensely himself. Your words made him feel drunk with emotion.

He opened his eyes to look at your face.

He almost choked with how beautiful you were. How divine, sitting on him, caressing his shoulders, smiling at him with the stars in your eyes. He looked at your lips, full and swollen, bearing the signs of his kisses. He looked at your neck, delicate and unmarked, and he stroked it with the back of his hand, wanting to change that fact immediately, knowing that now he was allowed to do that. He switched his gaze to your eyes again and drank them in, basking in their light, wishing that this moment could never end. Or maybe it should, so it could become your new beginning.

You were his treasure. His star, his light, guiding him through life, making his existence worth pursuing. You showed him that the world can be beautiful, despite it’s overbearing cruelty. You were his salvation, his safe place, his one and only, showing him every single day that he mattered, that he was not a lost cause, or a villain in disguise. You taught him that he was capable of loving so intensely and now, that he was loved as passionately in return.

He doubted his worth, but the only way he knew to prove his love for you was by protecting you with his very life. You had no idea, but his sword, now a symbol of your bond, was yours to command—and you were the only reason he continued to wield it.

“What are you thinking about?” Your voice was not more than a whisper, your eyes still looking into his starry ones, losing yourself in the deep blue. You loved them, how magnificent and expressive they were, and you swore to yourself to tell him about it every day.

He seemed to get out of the trace he was in, and his eyes softened, still taking you in. He smiled and took your hands into his, and kissed your knuckles, his kisses gentle and long-lasting.

“You.” He replied shortly, his voice gentle and reassuring. He put your hands on his shoulders, making you hug his neck with them. You complied and put your whole arms around his neck, bringing your bodies closer. One of his hands touched your waist, caressing it delicately, and the other one stroked your hair, admiring its’ softness. His eyes never left yours. “Always you, my starlight. Then, now, and till the end of my days. I will always carry you in my mind, and in my heart, to be able to reach you, no matter the distance.” You could feel his breath on your face with how close you were to each other, and he gazed at your open lips, which were already waiting to be kissed senselessly. “I love you, as I never loved anyone else in my life, and I never will again.” His lips captured yours in a kiss so soft, yet so desperate, and full of adoration, that you felt a single, happy tear escape from your eye. He deepened the kiss and held you throughout the night, kissing you and touching you, never wanting the moment to end, the warmth of your skin to become a memory.

It all started with the simplest of touches, and it never truly ended. The spark you ignited that first night has never faded. Since the moment you met, it has burned brightly between you both, a light so powerful that it could be seen across the vastness of deep space. Everlasting and exquisite, just like the different lifetimes you both had ahead of you, always finding each other, as if guided by it’s warmth.

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thank you for your time and please let me know if you liked it!! i was thinking of writing more for this au, maybe from xavier’s perspective? how they met and how he fell in love + how their first night really played out ♡

#fic rec #xavier

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astracora · 2 days ago

Text

Turning Point - Part 5

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Angst, Loss of Arm, Lots of emotional struggle with disability, mentions for Rafayel stories, and myths, violent imagery and arguments.

Word Count: 5456

Written: 9th January 2025

Notes: Pre-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. Rafayel is so hard to write for a lot of reasons, but also is one of my favourite characters in any story because he's just... contains multitudes. I also feel like he's the one who struggles most with all these other people in MC's life. I also feel like he's so fixated on pain, and struggle, that he forgets kindness can be offered to him with no price. Anyway, I enjoyed working on this bit a lot even though it was hard. Enjoy! Also as a side note, the song of choice I can only partially explain, Rafayel out of all the boys makes me think of regency romance on a level I truly cannot explain. (even though he doesn't have a dancing scene... YET!!)

Now Playing: All I Want, by Kris Bowers

Masterlist AO3

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Rafayel loves you. That is never in doubt. He finds himself bitter and aching that there is so much you have shared that only he remembers.

Sometimes it comes out in harsh words or lies. Even though he knows it is unfair to punish you, when you can't control it.

Mostly, however, he tries to enjoy moments with you. Hoping that something will spark, and you will look at him and see long years of history.

Remember his longing and his love in all its forms.

Remember all the facets that make him up. Perhaps it's cowardice to want your memories to fill in the blanks that he is too scared to tell you. Blood on his hands, heart offered up. He does not want to see your expression change. For you to fear or hate who he is… who he can become.

He thinks about beautiful blue seas, and the breath stolen underwater.

When he finds himself thinking of the beach he waited at, every year, he pushes himself into his work.

Now, he spends most of his days at your side. In case you need him. He watches closely, because he's used to you hiding your struggle from him. When you're sick, you've hidden it, he's reminded you that you're not a superhero. As much as you put on a brave front for every kid that sees your hunter reels.

Rafayel has watched this version of you for a long time, before he finally met you again. Properly.

He has seen so many renditions of you, no matter who you have been… he has loved you. He has and will love you for eternity and beyond, even if it might be easier not to.

Rafayel has finished most of his work for his exhibit, as he stares at the final piece that is missing something that he cannot find.

Sun blends with sea, as the tides recede. As silver bones are left behind to bleach.

He stares and stares and nothing comes. Just that vague, irritating feeling of incompletion.

"You're going to burn a hole in it, fish."

"Sylus, leave the man alone, he's actually working."

Rafayel huffs… and therein lies his other problem. Your consortium of bizarre attachments. If he were less observant, he could pretend they see you as a friend only.

But he is a man who can kill another, who can plan his revenge, who can hide in plain sight. Who is capable of sneaking up even on the N109 Zone Leader.

So he can see and he can't ignore. He also can't ignore that they comfort you as well.

You have teased him for being childish, and he thinks the irritating feeling in his gut, that demands he steal all of your time, that you are his bonded partner, confirms such a claim. He is not possessive of a lot… your heart is his.

He tries to ignore the doctor and the crow. Staring straight ahead, hoping that answers will come to him, but he cannot. He can feel their presence and it is on the edge of his consciousness. Poking at it.

Like he is a crab on the beach and a child wants to watch his pincers clasp.

"Maybe you should take a walk, get some fresh air."

"Do you want the fish to suffocate, Doctor?"

"Truly, you are incapable of not prodding at others aren't you?"

He huffs this time, turning his face to look at the two. Zayne is typing on his laptop, barely looking up to converse, while Sylus is on his tablet, glasses on the end of his nose.

The two look eerily similar like this.

Rafayel tries not to compare the doctor to the crow, it's unflattering. At least the doctor can heal your wounds.

When he speaks though, his irritation comes out in the snippy tone he takes, "Your opinions are noted, dumb crow. Then swiftly discarded."

The man does that irritating little laugh he does, that is more a puff of air than a real laugh. Like it's too much effort to feel anything, and Rafayel wants to pluck his feathers.

How you can tolerate him, he'll never know.

At least the hunter is quiet…

Still, he wants to get out of here, they make it harder for him to think, and he can't make progress like this. So he stands, shrugging at them and heads towards the door, as he goes to make through he almost collides with you and Xavier returning from the hospital. He isn't surprised when you move out the way just in time, you're a hunter and your training has made you capable. Still as he greets you, you hesitate, before tugging at his shirt before he can leave.

He looks down, your hand holding onto the fabric, not tough enough to tear, but enough to halt his movements.

"Are you alright, Raffy?"

It shouldn't surprise him that you notice the tick in his jaw, or the stress under his skin. It isn't the first time, and you've shown many times to have been able to pick out when his mood has dropped. You're observant as part of being a hunter, you're careful, you pay attention. You're smart.

You care.

About him, about his mood… about his life. His irritation settles, soothes at the edges, and his smile is easier, "I need some fresh air. Want to come with?"

You hesitate and he watches the fear enter your eyes. Wavering. You walk between the hospital and the apartment when you don't take Zayne's car, but that's the extent of your journeys. He wants to pull you by the hand… make you see the sea with him.

"Where are you going?"

"Whitesands."

It's far enough removed, very few people visit it, and he will get a walk somewhere familiar. Perhaps it's familiar enough for you to follow him.

He extends his hand, carefully, trying to keep the need from bubbling to the surface. If he could take you away far from here, he would. Take you to everything he's ever seen, so he can see it with new eyes. Yours.

Your hand stretches out, and your fingers tremble, before you finally take his, "Alright, if it's quiet." Your request is one he'll happily grant. Both of you alone, he can't think of a better way to spend his time.

The walk is kind to him, as they head towards Whitesand Bay, he gets to keep your hand in his, listen to the song of the world, and watch as your steps become lighter. You stop staring down at your arm and checking around you, eventually focusing on the sky and him.

As feet crunch on white sand, and approach the edge of tides. You let go of his hand to walk a little further out, and he watches. As you crouch, as you reach fingers to the water.

Rafayel paints everything he thinks is beautiful, tragic, or brings pain to his soul. You hurt him too, in ways he aches for. Like he is placing his hand in a burning flame, and holding it there, because the longer he holds it, the closer he gets to what he craves.

Like there is an answer there, waiting over the edge of agony. If he tumbles after it, he'll find what eludes him.

There's a feeling in him that wants to drown you with him. He could swim out, with you in his arms, and pull you under. On the edge of the question of life, before he gives you the means to breathe alongside him. He's warned you of the nature of sirens, and you've looked him in the eye and told him you don't fear him.

You should, though, he knows. You should fear the ocean's grasp as well as his own, because he wants your heart for his.

As you turn your eyes back to him, soft smile tugging the scar on your face, his heart thunders and then stills. Flames and agony. The need to touch and hold it in his hand… Lit against the contours of your face, and the glimmer in your eyes.

His inspiration is always closer than he thinks.

—-----

Rafayel dislikes your companions.

The prince gets to spend all of his time with you, working together, protecting each other. Where Rafayel had to convince you to be his bodyguard, just for a fraction of that time.

The doctor is who you trust with your injuries and your wounds, he is who you go to when something hurts. You hid your sickness from Rafayel before now, so he didn't doubt your capabilities.

The crow… the crow gets under his scales. Like a tick. Biting and bleeding and ruining his skin. Yet you trust him, a man who built all his life on violence. Who has blood on his hands. Who is open about his sins… While he cannot tell you for fear of the look in your eye changing.

It is safe to say the crow is his least favourite. The one who grinds at him most, who plucks and pulls. Like a hook in his upper lip. He dreams of drowning the man… he would if the look in your eyes didn't stop him.

So he hates them, he thinks. The anger and irritation and the childish petulance. He wants your attention and he fights for it, he wants you to trust him most. It took too long to gain entrance into your home, reminding himself that time builds strong bonds. That he should be patient. He did not want to scare you, to startle you. Like you are a small fish and he is a bigger… hungrier beast.

There is no peace when they are around, and normally pain brings him inspiration, an answer on the end of a paintbrush. A vision in the agony.

Whatever feeling they inspire is not pain, and it brings him no art to create, no feelings to share in blues and greens. Nothing to show for it.

He has thankfully, however, finished his final piece. So there is a relief in him, even as the crow looks down at him, eyebrow raised.

Rafayel ignores the man, looking straight ahead, signing his work. Paintbrush steady. Steadier than the racing heart in his chest.

He will not lose a game of chicken with an overgrown bird.

So when the crow turns to walk away, he is relieved, and so smug, until he hears a crunch. Looking over quickly, and staring down at the floor.

"Ah, what a shame."

One of Rafayel's paintbrushes snapped in half by the stupid crow's foot.

He levels a glare at the man, "Are stupid crows clumsy too?"

"Are all fish messy? Your things have spread across the apartment."

"I'm working!"

"Quite diligently I see, despite galavanting off to the beach. Inspiration was it?"

The look on the crow's face is too level. It's too calm. He does not respond to the rise of Rafayel's voice. He does not flinch at the glare in his eyes. He does not move, from where his foot is still on his brush.

It is a feeling of irritation that burns and scorches where it stands.

He has to tolerate and bite his tongue. He has to think and be careful. He has to share, where he does not want to share.

You are his heart, why does he have to look at the eyesore in his vision, and think about his hands on you too.

His anger bubbles and froths and overflows. A pot that has been left, and forgotten. You will forget him too, in favour of a crow! A stupid. Foolish. Irritating crow.

He stands and presses forwards, fangs bared and sharp. He is a predator of the seas. This man is nothing. He is a god of the tides. This man is a petty criminal.

Rafayel knows you better, he has seen more incarnations than this man can even comprehend, and he dares to play at favour?

"If you wish to be drowned, crow, I am happy to oblige."

Eyebrow quirks at him, a look in his eyes that Rafayel can't make out, but it glitters and twinkles, "I'd love to see you try, fish, but I'm afraid you couldn't hope to kill me."

"I am more than willing to try."

"Then you'll simply be hurting your 'beloved bride', wouldn't you?"

He snarls, a low noise in the back of his throat, hand reaching out to grab at the man's throat. To snap it, bite through it, to cut his voice permanently, he isn't sure. It will hurt, and he will deserve it. For calling you what he cannot. Too many memories that you cannot hold in your heart.

The crow steps forwards, as if daring him to try. To wrap his hands around his throat and twist. To slice his throat open with a dagger. To see. To show him if it's true.

"Raffy?" Your call comes from the side, stumbling in, voice wary.

His hand hovers, he debates. Thinks for a moment. Stares at the crow's adam apple as the man swallows his laughter down. The dare is there, waiting for him to take… and they both know he won't.

So he rips his hand back, offers you the kind of smile that shakes at the foundations, "Hey cutie, I was just going out for the exhibit."

You open your mouth to speak, and he shakes his head, grabbing his canvas. Lifting it far too quickly to be safe, and turns on a heel, "I'll see you later."

The speed he leaves the apartment leaves the door frame shaking behind him. Heading out, running from the place. From the crow's dare, from the wary look in your eyes.

From the inadequacy… the guilt… the irritation. The pain.

What lurks over the abyss could just be nothingness. A world where you don't want him, or need him. Where without your memories you do not look at him, hear him call you his beloved bride, and love him as you once did. Where his bond with you is not enough, and he simply has to experience the heart that cannot beat for anyone but you.

That he has lied and hidden and kept from you for too long, that a criminal with blood on his hands who does not hide… claims your heart for his.

His heart…

There is pain behind his art and in his soul. A reminder that he cannot always be with you in every life, and he prays this is not one of them. An alter of suffering that he would cut his chest open at, if you would always look at him.

—--

You cannot stop thinking about the look on Rafayel's face.The agony in his eyes as he'd darted from the room. You'd asked Sylus who had shrugged, "I broke his paintbrush." But not explained further.

You'd seen Rafayel break his own paintbrushes in his studio, stepping on them, falling over them. Resulting in a trip to the hospital because of how messy things were.

You help Sylus clean up some of the mess, containing it in a corner with the rest of Raffy's things, hoping it would alleviate some of the feeling you can't seem to shake in the air. A stagnation. It feels like decay, and you can't open enough windows to air it out.

If Sylus decides not to share, he won't. You've known him long enough, pried at his secrets enough, that you don't waste the strength anymore. He shares what he wants, when he wants to.

So you abandon the effort and go about your day. It drags. Waiting for time to pass, working through your exercises, before you have to leave.

As the time approaches, the clock hand moving, it begins to click harder. The sound impending.

You think about other exhibits, the amount of people, the noise…

It cuts through the excitement, the peace of the wait, the boredom.

You pause as you're getting ready, staring at the prosthetic arm flexing in front of you. The movement of metal fingers, the clear indication of your injury… your failure.

You're going to see Rafayel. A man who people will be looking at. Commending.

Taking photos of.

Do you really want to be stood next to him like this? To draw attention to yourself and him?

An icy chill runs up your spine, and you stop. You have to get these clothes off. You have to cancel. You can't go.

You can't be there.

You feel the chain on your ankle, it tugs and it pulls, and it drags you back. The beast that settled, has woken up. It is hungry and it is angry, and it is laughing at you for trying.

A mistake, this was a mistake. You made a promise to someone you care about, and now you're going to hurt him. Either way, you're going to hurt him. Make him look stupid. Make him hate you.

You're going to break this fragile peace. Bring that agonised look into his eyes again.

Take from a man who gives you so much. Love, affection, kindness, warmth, acceptance, joy.

You are ripping all those things from his hands, and returning nothing.

"Kitten?" You stumble, when the voice startles you out of your thoughts. Falling back onto the bed, looking up as Sylus enters, not bothering to wait for an answer. Ever since your mission had gone wrong, he has been far less hesitant. If he could ever be said to be hesitant.

When he sees you sitting, tears in your eyes, he approaches you, kneels in front of you. Hands on your knees. Soothing your skin. His skin is so warm, it's like a brand. You almost pull away. On fire, itching, hurting. He notices your flinch and pulls his hands away. The relief of the cool is intense, and you choke on the feeling.

You're the mistake. Too fragile to be touched. Too useless to be helpful. Too much work.

He takes in your rumbled clothing. The shirt half pulled off, the jacket thrown away from you, the trousers unclasped. You are shivering, and shaking, and while you can see his hands twitching. Yearning, needing to soothe, he knows he can't. So he tries to speak, hesitant now, "Don't you like them?" You think about the time he spent, finding things with Rafayel that are easier to wear. Clasps that can be done easier with one hand, or buttons bigger for your unsteady metal fingers.

Things that require the least amount of struggle. If he could not find them, he had them made.

The two of them, you think as you try to fight through the fog, are dangerous.

You shake your head numbly. "I can't go."

It doesn't require much more from you, even without his eye, Sylus reads people. He reads you. He's said sometimes he cannot understand the workings of your mind, but he improves everyday. It is terrifying to be seen by him. Terrifying for him to look under the rough exterior, to the rougher interior.

You wait for the moment that he realises you're not worth it.

"You'll be with us." He starts, and you look down at where his hand twitches towards you, then back. "You won't be alone."

You haven't been alone, you think. In all the time you've spent with this. This weight, first on your back, then on your ankle. They have come to find you. Looking.

Just like Caleb did.

Is it enough? This could be that wakeup call.

"Rafayel wants you there, he's excited to see you." It is odd. It is hearing Sylus say 'Rafayel' and not 'fish', that jolts you back. Just like the moment you saw them in your kitchen, arguing. Just like when you saw them all walk through that door when the blanket was your only defence.

It is a realisation of how odd this is. How bizarre they are.

It almost makes you hiccup a laugh. The idea of Sylus speaking for Rafayel. You think about how warm he is to you, how he takes your hand easily.

I will always want to look at you.

"What if it's too much work?" You finally manage, the agony lightening so you can speak, no longer tearing at you. Though you can feel the creature on your ankle. Tugging. Like a dog with a chew toy.

"The important things are worth it."

Important.

Learning to use your prosthetic is hard. Learning to trust is hard.

It was with Caleb, it is with all of them. It is a constant struggle. A constant weight. To try.

They catch you, with a security net. Give you space to breathe, so you can stand back up again.

You think about what you want, think about what will make you happy… what is worth living for.

It is the reason to keep getting up.

You want to see Rafayel's work, you want to see the people you care about. You want to keep your promise to a man who values you. A hesitant shaky hand takes Sylus' where it hovers. The way you can watch him heave a sigh, the tension in him easing, as he clasps yours between both of his. Tight, but not suffocating. He grounds you, and it doesn't burn.

"What do you think, Kitten? Do you want to try?"

Sylus has never belittled you for tears, or made you feel your emotions are a mistake. When you are drowning, he offers a hand. When you anger and hurt, he is there, either to join you in your hurt, or to help appease it.

He offers you a choice, and he means it. If you truly do not want to, you know he will accept it. If you want to, he will help.

"I want to try."

He nods, pulling you up with him, to stand, straight into his chest. So that you can feel his uneven heart beating against you. "Then let's get you ready."

—-----

He should never have left so early. He should have stayed with you.

Rafayel left the apartment in frustration and anger and now he stares at his phone, hoping to see your name pop up.

It is an agitating feeling. To be stood on the edge of the cliff and not know if there's water below.

He has forced himself to listen to Thomas, to go through the motions, to ensure his exhibit is set up correctly. He has sat under too bright lights, feeling himself drying up, as he waits. As the clock hand moves, as he thinks, and he struggles.

If he keeps running, will you stop chasing him?

As his exhibit starts, he checks again, only to see a message from the doctor, 'Good luck today'. He doesn't respond. He stares at it. It's unsettling. He doesn't want the doctor to wish him good luck. He doesn't want his comfort.

He doesn't need it.

Even when his agitation settles a moment, and he hides it from Thomas who asks him why he's smiling. He's not.

That doesn't mean anything.

He does not wave at Xavier as he walks through the door, milling around the paintings quietly. Avoiding the bigger crowds. He tries not to think about the fact that he's come to see.

It doesn't matter.

As time passes, Rafayel fidgets.

Stares at the door.

Fidgets.

Stares at the door.

He walks around the room, passes Xavier, who hands him water quietly, then walks off. He stares down at it, but he's parched, the crowds are tiring him out, the people are talking like they understand him, and he just wants to be somewhere else. So he downs it, and lets the relief of the chill settle in his throat.

He talks absently to people he doesn't really care to listen to. Thomas gives him a talk about doing his duties.

Irritation settles in his stomach. He doesn't care about his duties. He cares about seeing you.

He checks his phone, and is relieved, though irritated, when he gets a message from the crow, 'We're on our way'. He sends back a thumbs up, though it is through a shaky hand. Excitement makes it unsteady.

It is when he is not staring at the door, when he hears your voice behind him. "Raffy?" Pulling away from where he is avoiding Thomas' lectures, he takes you in. Your hand is grasped in the crow's, eyes darting around the room. You're wearing your prosthetic, a dark blue jacket over your shoulders, painted with green and blue flowers. Flared trousers and a light shirt. He absently thinks that the crow's style isn't too ridiculous, if it means you visit his exhibits like this. Like one of the flowers in a garden he wants to take you.

"Cutie!" It is relief and it is the weight of hundreds of years that shed. He waited, he waited, and you came. He takes your hand away from the crow, not without giving a smug little smile, which receives him a smirk, and kisses the back of it. "You made it."

He watches your eyes glisten, he can feel the heat off your cheeks. Not all embarrassment, he knows some of it is stress, but it is enough. "You don't have to stay long." He promises, it doesn't matter how long you stay. You came. You came, no matter what.

You came, and he knows it wasn't easy.

The laugh you release, it trembles, like your hand, but it is accompanied by the small smile he is learning to draw with his eyes closed. "Show me your work?"

"I'll go find the prince, call me if you need me." The crow offers, he leans, kissing your temple, before he leaves. You blink after him a bit, touching where he kissed with your hand, pulling it from Rafayel's grasp, and then look at him. He glares after the man, but doesn't offer much of a response.

"Come on then cutie, you're mine." He doesn't look as he grabs your hand, and he knows he is grinning at you. Pulling you forwards with him, darting to where his art calls for you.

He doesn't notice the chill in your hand, until he eases his fingers over it. Feeling grooves and edges. He almost releases when he realises he has grabbed your prosthetic, you are staring down at it with him.

Rafayel looks at you, tries to read the look in your eyes. It is soft, and awed and gentle. So he raises it to his lips, kissing the wrist. You tremble, blinking, before tightening your grip just a little.

It is the soft, warm look in your eyes, as you tug him forward a little bit more, a laugh bubbling out of you. "Come on Raffy."

He takes you around all of his paintings, and just watches you.

You don't offer him opinions or thoughts often, he has learned if he gives you space to look, you can tell him how you feel. What his art brings out in you. If he looks closely at your face, he can watch it. Trembling in your eyes.

As you flit amongst paintings, like a butterfly amongst flowers, tugging him along with you. He follows willingly.

There are moments when you stop, and your hand twitches out. Like you are holding back the urge to run your fingers over the paint. Tracing shapes, touching at his heart directly.

He wants to tell you that you can do as you please. That you are the one who he wants to understand him most. That his art, and his soul are yours to do with as you like. That you could tear images from his canvas, and he would still paint more for you.

Finally you find yourself in front of his struggle. Bleached bones on the beach, tides easing out. Leaving scars behind.

At the edges of the horizon, the sun rises again. Painting the once dreary sky in a rainbow.

You are the sunrise that greets him, that reminds him that time moves forwards. That there is something to see after the night.

That tomorrow has a chance for better than today.

You bloom like a flower before his eyes, a sight he could never have seen beneath the waves. A reminder of why he came to visit the surface every year. A reminder of all the wonders of land that he idolised as a child.

"Beautiful." Is exhaled, and he is unsure if it was you or him. The twinkling in your eyes, perhaps it was both.

Eventually he feels the strain in your countenance, the exhaustion, so he sneaks with you out of the exhibit. Escaping into gardens that are quiet, and closed to others. A locked gate has never kept him out of anywhere, however.

It is the quiet that settles you, and he settles alongside you. No longer wearing a mask he does not want for people who come to stare at his work. He pulls you amongst flowers, fields of lilies, and whispers of petals.

Secluded and alone. The way he feels best with you.

Lying down in the grass, to look up at the sky, stars twinkling.

It is with the view of the stars that you speak, voice tinged in a guilt he wishes to chase away, "I almost didn't come. I'm sorry Raffy."

His eyes turn to you, to read the draw of your lips, the pain in your eyes, the way you tighten your grip on his hand. Cool metal against skin that reacts to you more than any other. Sensitive, aware.

Your touch will always alight his senses.

He knows the hesitation, he thinks about the way you wavered on the edge, hand extended to you as you feared to take it. He knows that you are adjusting. He regrets asking you to promise, to put that weight on your shoulders.

He is relieved you came. To see him, to stare at the workings of his heart, and yearn to trace it with fingers.

His patience and his need fight often. His awareness of pushing, his desperation. It is hard to balance.

"What changed your mind?"

You edge a little closer on the grass, so that the heat of him spreads over the sensors of your prosthetic. Alongside the gentle stroking of his thumb over your hand. "Sy told me you wanted me to be here… and I wanted to be here for you."

Rafayel's first instinct is the kind of reaction he's seen cats get to water. Hissing and jumping up. Shaking himself furiously.

There is great dissatisfaction at comparing himself to the demons.

There is greater dissatisfaction at the crow, helping him. In any way.

It is a feeling of being pulled back by the scruff of his neck, away from the abyss he seeks out. The fall into the ocean.

The agony on the edge of the conscious.

You poke his cheek with your other hand, then brush hair back and his heart settles its seething. "I'm glad."

"Glad?"

"That they care for you." It is whispered, and it is tentative, and he sees the worry in your eyes.

The fear at his arguments before. The anxiety that you are causing distress.

Forcing them. Making them clash in enclosed spaces. Like caged beasts.

It is the wary voice that calls out to him, tries to ask the question about the pain in him, the voices and the agony ripping and pulling and hurting. The pain that grants him no inspiration.

They care.

A message sent to wish him luck. A quiet presence bringing him water when he dries. A fool giving you the push to move forwards to lead your feet to him.

You have not stopped looking for him and at him, and he has been holding you like a toy he does not wish to share…

It is a feeling he isn't ready to digest or question, not when the stars are bright and you are safe next to him. It is one he will think about in days to come, as he watches the doctor help him clean. As he is offered a pillow the prince favours in order to sleep better.

When the crow argues with him, but gives him food that satisfies a hunger he forgets to appease for himself.

When you do not look at him any less. That he has not lost anything, he is not lesser.

It is a feeling for later.

To help paint canvas he wants to share one day, though pain is absent, and something else glimmers in the sea.

88 notes · View notes