𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘- 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨- 𝐍𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐰

A/N: I changed Makari's face claim to Psalm West, it worked better that way. He's around 1 1/2, maybe 1 3/4 and he can speak limitedly, and can do that weird walk/run that babies do, you know the one, the wobbly one.

After showering and drying off, Rafe Cameron emerged from Mitra's bathroom in nothing but a towel.

Her bedroom was empty, with a pair of loose, grey shorts and a blue crew neck jumper folded neatly on her bed, a note sat on top of them in delicate cursive writing.

𝑅𝑎𝑓𝑒-

𝐼'𝑚 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑖𝑜 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑙.

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒'𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑜𝑟 𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙, 𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑎𝑠𝑡.

𝑂𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑖𝑜 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖'𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑑.

𝑂𝑘, 𝑏𝑦𝑒

-𝑀𝑖𝑡𝑟𝑎 ❀

Rafe smirked with a small head shake as he set the note back down, eyes lingering on the small flower drawing next to her name as he slid the jumper over his damp hair and stepped into the grey shorts.

He wandered out of her bedroom, looking at the small engravings on the doors until he came across one that said '𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑖𝑜' and knocked his knuckles against the wood.

A soft "come in" was heard from inside, along with the quiet hum of music.

Rafe turned the handle and stepped in, the smell of honey immediately filling his nose as his eyes set on Mitra, perched on a stool and leaning over a desk, hair tumbling down her face and a green dress with white dots coving her body, tattoos on display.

She lifted her head from the skull she was painting and smiled at him, head nodding to a chair for him to sit in.

He silently made his way over, legs spread and his hands in between them, leaning forward so he could watch the paint smother the pencil lines.

"You drew that?" he asked, smiling contently as she nodded, eyebrows furrowed and tongue wetting her lips slightly.

"Yeah... I did my tattoos, you didn't know?" she smiled, setting the paintbrush down and turning to face him, her legs crossed.

Rafe's eyebrows raised in shock and he let out a sound of approval, "no- no, I, uh... You... Really did them?" be asked, his voice raising slightly in surprise.

Mitra laughed and nodded her head, "most of them. All of the ones I could reach, anyway" she laughed, standing up and waving for him to follow her.

A ringing noise sounded in the kitchen, and Mitra answered the old, wall mounted rotator phone with a smile, "hello?" she asked, her voice light and jaunty.

A sigh of relief was heard from the other end, and Mitra smiled even wider when she realised it was her sister, Morello.

"Heyyy Mitra," she greeted, her voice strangely high as she dragged out the 'hey'.