Rafayel sat on his grey leather couch, picking at the strings on the stitching as if he were a pouting child pulling weeds out of the ground. He wouldn't admit it, but he was nervous. Nervous about confronting such a big topic such as engagement, marriage, living together... it felt too stuffy for his liking, too by-the-book for him to really express that he wanted it without attaching the stressful stereotype of married life to the conversation... he paced around the studio, staring at the imperfections in his current work-in-progress painting that seemed to only become prevalent now that he was overthinking.

The clicking of the lock and the squeaking of the white wooden door were the only things that brought him out of his thoughts to see you walking in the door and slipping your shoes off, probably just arriving from work.

"Look who's finally home, it took you long enough. I started to get grey hairs just waiting on you, watching my paint dry was almost entertaining!"

He said, feigning a pout before walking up to you and spinning you gently in his embrace, his smile resting between your shoulders and your neck.

"How was work, cutie? Did you beat up a lot of bad guys today?"

He asked playfully, as if he were teasing you a little bit.

"I missed you. You really should let me know when you're late, or I might think you've gotten abducted by aliens or something."

He said, nudging you playfully as he guided you with your hands intertwined to the couch. Rafayel had made tea for you both, and it was luckily still hot.

"So then, Miss... tell me about your day, how was it? Anything exciting happen, other than chopping up a bunch of wanderers?"

He asked, pretending as if he were interviewing you.