Chapter Text
"Ahh, this is just what I needed, I can't remember the last time I went swimming!"
you exclaimed, a smile spreading across your lips. Plopping your bag down on an open lounge chair, you stretched, finally letting the stress of being a hunter roll off you.
"Well, of course, dummy. More time with me is the cure to all ailments. Besides. I can't travel without my miss bodyguard to protect me, now can I?"
Rafayel smirked as he set his things down next to yours.
As is a common occurrence for 'His Artsyness', Rafayel had been asked to come as a guest lecturer in the sunny vacation town of Calico. Another of his pieces had caught the eye of a prestigious collector who just had to have him speak at his upcoming event. Between teaching classes, restoration projects, and high-profile parties, the invitation wasn't anything special. Rafayel had actually planned to decline, but at your behest to 'think of the aspiring artists of tomorrow' and the knowledge he could share, he had reluctantly agreed on the condition that his bodyguard come along for his "protection" lest he encounter any overzealous fans.
The charade that Rafayel needed your protection was an illusion that had long since been shattered. At first, you had taken the lanky artist as he presented himself, a frail, delicate thing.
Between exhaustion-fueled bouts of blindness, hospital stays over twisted ankles, and complaints that could give a toddler a run for his money, Rafayel came across "needy" to put it nicely. And while these behaviors were irritating at first, you found a whimsical charm to it all.
You certainly had had the opportunity to "save" him from the odd fan, paparazzi, or even an occasional wanderer, but it had become more and more apparent that he could more than handle his own. On the few occasions you found yourself pressed or outmatched, it was almost like he switched gears.
You wondered if your mind was playing tricks on you, only ever catching him out of the corner of your eye. He and his dagger moved at lightning-fast speed, his nimble movements and agility foreign for a man who spent 90% of his time either lounging or with a paintbrush in hand. But it became undeniable. Any time you were anticipating a strike, you wouldn't be able to deflect yourself, a flash of purple, the heat of a flame, and the ring of a blade. He wouldn't let harm come to you. With that level of skill, surely he could protect himself. And you had experienced his strength firsthand. While he may pretend to struggle against you in the day-to-day, in moments of... emotional weakness... his mask would drop, his grip on you unrelenting, unbreakable, almost superhuman. Why he felt he needed to keep up the facade, you hadn't yet deciphered. Rafayel was a question wrapped up in a mystery, and while one day you hoped to solve it, you were content for now just to be by his side.
And so here you were, several hours away from Linkon City, enjoying a free stay at a luxury hotel. You subtly shook your head, thinking back on it. After checking in, your main luggage was left with the front desk to be sent over to your rooms. To your disappointment, there would be no "one bed" scenarios with your very hot "employer"/ friend tonight. Upon your arrival, the hotel traded out his provided luxury suite for connecting rooms, a move you understood but were disappointed with all the same. But you weren't going to dwell on the loss of fantasy scenarios, especially on this gorgeous day. Day packs in hand, the two of you went straight for the pool, swimsuits already donned in anticipation, determined to soak up as much vacation fun as possible before Rafayel's responsibility to speak popped up tomorrow evening. Until then, your time was your own to enjoy the facilities as you pleased, and you had set your eyes on the pool.
Calico was landlocked but boasted a warm tropical climate, a refreshing change from Linkon and white sand bay. And the hotel in question certainly took advantage of it. Stepping out into the recreation area was like stepping into a lush tropical forest. Greenery, water features, stonework, and lights transformed the pools into a fantastical getaway.
Slipping off your sandals, you felt the warm, smooth stone that lined the pool and felt yourself let out a sigh of relief. You hadn't realized just how stressed you had been recently. When was the last time you actually went away to a place like this? Reaching up you began to undo the tie of your wrapdress, letting the sides slip away to reveal your swimsuit underneath, when movement caught your eye. Turning your head, you saw Rafayel pull off his shirt, revealing his porcelain white skin underneath, his defined muscles catching the light like one of his paintings.
This wasn't new to you, there had been many an afternoon Thomas had sent you for proof of life just to find Rafayel asleep in his gallery, shirt disheveled or discarded, blotches of paint, food wrappers and various other supplies scattered about. Hell, you'd even shared a bed with him before, though purely accidental. But there was something about seeing him in the sunlight. The way he shined was almost kingly, a lord among the common folk.
A blush spread to your face as you realized you were ogling him. Widening your gaze, you realized you weren't the only one. Glancing around, you noticed eyes from all around, young and old, had stopped to glance at this man, like a statue in a museum. A few children had even halted their play for a moment or two to stare at the figure before them. It was then that Rafayel looked over to you, no longer distracted with his clothing. His eyes connected with yours, a genuine smile across his face; however, it was soon replaced with a flustered panic as his eyes dipped. He cleared his throat and turned away, red creeping onto his ears. Coming back to yourself, you were aware that your dress, now merely a swatch of cloth hanging loosely from your shoulders like a cape, left your swimsuit, and thus cleavage, midriff, and upper thighs, clearly exposed.
Understanding the reason for Rafayel's blush, you quickly spun, lest he catch your own blush intensifying. Discarding your dress fully, laying your towel out onto the chair to soak up the rays of the sun, and clearing your throat, you playfully called out
"Come on, let's get in already!"
Without another thought you slathered on some sunblock and sprinted to the waters edge. After assessing the depth and bracing for the chill you leapt in, letting the water embrace you.
There was something otherworldly about being in the water. Something about being submerged— the soft caress around your skin, the weight of your body dispersing, feeling your hair relax and flow freely. There was nothing quite like it. And just... a feeling of belonging. Like you rediscovered a puzzle piece you didn't know was lost. Sure, a dip in the tub, or a hot shower after a hard day of work was refreshing, but this, this was living. Even the smell of the water was something your body craved. The chlorine of the pool, though distinct, wasn't your favorite. You much preferred the natural bodies... lakes, streams. But the ocean was your favorite. It was probably a large part of why, despite the way he pushed your buttons, you could never say no to a visit to Rafael's studio, the salty air coloring the space just as the paints did. The thought to swim there had crossed your mind before, but neither the opportunity (nor the invite) had come along. But that was besides the point.
Basking in the elation of it all you returned to the surface and breathed in, and it was like you hadn't taken a full breath in years. Tipping your head up and slicking your hair back, a smile plastered from cheek to cheek you blinked the droplets away from your eyes and searched for your companion.