NOVEL NEXT Chapter 8: Chapter 8
A week had passed since Rowan began living in Rafayel's eclectic art studio. While Rafayel remained as sharp-tongued and dramatic as ever, Rowan noticed subtle cracks in the walls the man had built around himself. Though their affinity in the system remained stubbornly stuck at 2%, Rowan felt they were growing closer in their own chaotic way.
Rafayel still hadn't mentioned much about himself, and Rowan hadn't dared to push. Even so, there were moments when Rafayel let his guard down like when they bickered over mundane things, or when Rafayel's laughter slipped through in unguarded bursts.
Thomas, too, had become a comforting presence. The man had even given Rowan a phone, grumbling that it would be easier to coordinate Rafayel's busy schedule. Rowan accepted it gratefully, thinking, Thomas isn't just his gallery manager; he's basically his babysitter.
Thomas had said, "you'll need it to keep tabs on Rafayel. He's a handful."
Rowan nodded, thinking, You're not wrong there.
---
One sunny afternoon, Rafayel declared they needed a break from the studio. "Come on," he said, dragging Rowan toward the shore. "It's time to eat fish ."
"fish?" Rowan asked, eyebrow raised.
"Fishing," Rafayel replied grandly, as if the word itself were an art form.
Rowan didn't argue, though he found the idea amusing. As they stood by the water, Rafayel fiddled with the fishing rod, his fingers tangling in the line.
"Need help?" Rowan offered, barely holding back a grin.
Rafayel shot him a glare. "Absolutely not. I am perfectly capable of—"
Before he could finish, the line snapped back and hit him in the wrist.
Rowan couldn't help but laugh. "You're hopeless."
Rafayel bristled. "Hopeless? I'll let you know I am a genius in all things."
"Sure you are." Rowan stepped in, his hands brushing against Rafayel as he took the rod. He expertly untangled the line, casting it into the water.
As they waited in silence, Rowan stole a glance at Rafayel. The man was perched on the edge of the rock, his gaze fixed on the rippling waves. Something about the scene struck Rowan as oddly poetic. His lips twitched as a thought crept into his mind: A merman fishing.
He bit back a laugh.The mental image was too funny to ignore. If only Rafayel knew what Rowan was thinking, he'd probably throw him into the sea.
Rafayel caught Rowan's amused expression and narrowed his eyes. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing," Rowan said, feigning innocence.
Rafayel didn't seem convinced, but he let it go.
Not long after, Rowan spotted a small motorboat tied up nearby. An idea sparked in his mind.
"Hey," he said, nudging Rafayel. "What if we go further out? Better chance of catching something."
Rafayel hesitated, his gaze shifting to the boat. "I'm not sure…"
"Don't tell me you're scared."
"I'm not scared," Rafayel snapped. "I just don't trust human contraptions."
Rowan smirked. "Sounds like you're scared."
Rafayel glared at him. "Fine. Let's go."
Rowan guided him onto the boat, starting the motor with ease. The rhythmic sound of the waves was soothing, and for a moment, Rowan thought they might actually enjoy the outing.
But then a sudden slap of water rocked the boat. Rafayel immediately grabbed the edge, his face turning pale.
"Are you okay?" Rowan asked, concerned.
"I feel… unwell," Rafayel groaned, dramatically pressing a hand to his forehead.
Rowan stared at him, incredulous. "Are you seasick?"
"I'm dying," Rafayel declared. "This is it. My brilliant life, cut tragically short."
Rowan rolled his eyes. "You're not dying. You're just dramatic."
"Take me back," Rafayel demanded.
Sighing, Rowan paddled the boat back to shore. Once they reached land, Rafayel stumbled out and collapsed onto the sand, striking a pose worthy of a Shakespearean tragedy.
"I survived," Rafayel announced dramatically, his voice filled with mock tragedy. "But at what cost?"
Rowan leaned on the oar, crossing his arms as he tilted his head. "The cost of your dignity, apparently."
Rafayel peeked through his fingers, giving Rowan a glare. "Dignity? Please. You wouldn't understand the anguish of what I just endured."
Rowan smirked. "Oh, I understand it just fine. It's called seasickness, not some life-altering trauma." He crouched down beside Rafayel, shaking his head with mock pity. "You're such a delicate little flower."
"I'm not delicate!" Rafayel huffed, his voice rising. "I'm merely… sensitive to certain conditions."
"Uh-huh, sure." Rowan squatted lower, his teasing smile faltering just a little as he examined Rafayel more closely. "You're not faking it, are you?"
"Of course not!" Rafayel snapped.
Rowan ignored the outburst and leaned closer, placing a hand gently on Rafayel's cheek to tilt his face toward the sunlight. "Hold still," he said, his voice unusually soft.
Rafayel froze, his eyes widening in surprise as the heat crept up his face. "W-What are you doing?" he stammered, attempting to sound indignant but failing miserably.
"Checking if you're actually okay," Rowan replied casually, his thumb brushing lightly against Rafayel's skin. He frowned in thought, his gaze lingering on Rafayel's unique complexion.
Rafayel's confusion quickly turned to shy irritation. "Well, stop touching me like I'm invalid!"
Rowan chuckled, ignoring the protest as his fingers lingered for just a moment longer. "You know, your eye color is so unusual. I don't think I've ever seen anyone with a color like this."
Rafayel's cheeks flushed a shade deeper, and he immediately swatted Rowan's hand away. "That's because I'm—" He stopped himself abruptly, his eyes narrowing. "I mean, why are you even noticing something like that? Don't you have anything better to do than ogle me?"
Rowan laughed outright, standing up and brushing sand off his pants. "What a cute kid"
Rafayel stuttered, momentarily caught off guard. "Y-You—!" He pointed a finger at Rowan, attempting to sound angry but coming across more flustered than anything else.
"What?" Rowan teased, grinning. "You don't like compliments now?"
"I don't like your compliments," Rafayel shot back, his tone dripping with sass.
"Sure you don't." Rowan's smirk widened as he watched Rafayel flounder. "You're like a walking art piece, you know that? All dramatic poses and unique colors no wonder people can't stop looking at you."
Rafayel scowled, though the flush on his cheeks betrayed his true feelings. "Keep talking, and I'll make sure you regret it."
"Looking forward to it." Rowan winked, laughing as Rafayel huffed and turned away, crossing his arms like a petulant child.
Unbeknownst to them, a black crow perched on a distant rock, its sharp eyes fixed on their every move. Its gaze was unnervingly intelligent, as though it understood far more than a mere bird should.
As Rafayel and Rowan continued their playful argument, the crow tilted its head, watching for another moment before taking flight. Its dark silhouette disappeared against the horizon, leaving an unsettling stillness in its wake.