Going with the Flow

04: Now Who's the Fish out of Water?

                         Rafayel and I sat and chatted a bit while finishing the rest of our cake and wine. letting the peaceful night pass us by slowly. The outside world continued to become a winter wonder land, and inside of the estate was a warm getaway. the fireplace being the only other noise besides our chatter and the occasional wind gust on the other side of the walls. I finish what's left of my wine and nibble the lone strawberry half that had fallen off of the cake onto my plate. ''You...didn't give me milk earlier so we could drink wine, right?'' I peek up at him from what's left of the strawberry just as he's finished his own glass. 

''Ooorrr maybe it was meant to be eaten with the strawberry cake?'' The upwards inflection he used led me to believe that he was up to something, but what it was I had no idea. I guess he could read the expression my face held. ''You're not saying I'm some kinda mastermind who can control the weather, are you?''

''...Well, not quite that omnipotent.'' Carefree, Rafayel chuckles and lazily taps his glass. Why do I get the feeling that something is being foreshadowed here? 

''Hold off on the alcohol for now. Didn't you prepare a lot of party games? Shouldn't we play first?''

''They're meant to be played by other people. I've also been practicing my dance moves.'' As if I've given him the green light he was looking for, Rafayel immediately got up and walked over to his sound system. A song starts playing, a soothing piano melody that fills the air. He walked right back over to me and extends his hand, an invitation to dance. 

''Wanna tell me who you practiced dancing with?''

''My coat rack at home.'' I amazed myself at how quick of a lie I was able to conjure. (Sorry Xavier...) I apologized to him in the back of my mind. I wasn't prepared to open up that can of worms, not in the least bit. I placed my hand in his, accepting his invitation and he tugs lightly, helping me off the couch. 

''Next time you need a practice partner, choose someone you're more in tune with'', he offered unabashedly. 

''Are you volunteering?'' I smile at him as he leads me to a clearing in the middle of the living room. He wraps his arm around my waist, moving in time with the song. His gentle touch and the distance between us were perfect. Our breaths, stained in the same sweet, red wine, intertwine and seemingly form a thread of intoxication. It connects us, closer and closer with an irresistible force until the music stops. The room was so quiet that I could hear the snow falling from outside. 

''Is this how you imagined the party would be?'' Rafayel broke the silence, his voice a quiet but deep melody ringing in my ears. 

''I don't know...''

''Well, it's exactly what I had in mind.'' He's pretty much confirmed my epiphany from earlier. He continued on. ''Buuuut you'll probably feel a little queasy after drinking and spinning around, yeah?'' His hand rests on the small of my back, and his warmth seeps through the fabric of my clothes. I can't tell if the heat is because of our dance...or because of him. I could only think about the scent of red wine. I could feel his shirt against my body and his slow caresses on the back of my hand. Everything, along with his deep, yearning gaze seemed to overwhelm my senses. 

''I'm...feeling a little thirsty.

Rafayel leads me to the window and starts rummaging  through the mini fridge stocked with various refreshments. 

''What do you wanna drink? There's some sweet stuff. Or maybe you want something light? Oh, I see sparkling water here.''

I think for a bit. Part of me wants a little more ''lift'' than the very slight tipsy feeling from the amount of wine we had. ''How about you mix me one of your special drinks? I remember we've stocked up on plenty of cocktail ingredients.'' Rafayel glances at me, a teasing smile on his lips as he tilts his head. 

''My dear guest, alcohol isn't gonna make you less thirsty. You'll just be more drunk.'' Again, he had a good point. Still, the less responsible side of me wanted just that, but I give in. ''Then make me something that's refreshing and won't get me drunk, please.''

''If you insist. I'll do my best. Ok, give me a moment.'' He grabs two bottles, gives them a once over, and pours their contents into a shaker. He then scoops up some ice cubes from the ice bucket and adds them in. He closes the shaker and gives it a good shaky-shake and in just a matter of seconds, a colorful beverage appears before me. 

''Oooh, what's this?'' I take the glass, admiring its colors swirling around freely. 

''It's sparking fruit juice. And the best part? It quenches your thirst without getting you drunk. The bad news is that there's no alcohol.''

''I ordered a cocktail. If there's no alcohol, then what's the point?'' I cock my head to him sideways a bit, watching him as his gaze follows me.

''Sorry, sorry. The bartender here plays it by ear.'' He then places a hand on his chest, leaning slightly forward to look apologetic. All the while, he wears a smile that's clearly for the spectacle. I humor him a bit. 

''...Seeing as how you're genuinely sorry, I guess I can taste it first.'' I take a small sip, and then glance over to him. 

''Well? Is it to your liking?''

As I take another sip of the ''cocktail'' to quench my thirst, I noticed that he's still standing there, unmoving. I decided to keep playing along with him. ''While it's delicious, it's still not what I ordered. If you can't make me another drink, you need to compensate me in a way that makes me happy.'' Pretending to be angry, I stroll over to him and press my finger against his chest, pushing him back until he stumbles into a chair. Sighing, he nudges a present on the floor away with his foot and holds my hand, giving me a troubled look. 

''How should I make it up to you, my dear customer?'' At this point, I can't tell who's actually humoring who, but I continue on.

''Well...'' Holding in a smile, I spot a ribbon draped on the back of his chair. I take it and circle around him, sizing him up. After a few laps, the ribbon is loosely wrapped around him. It's vibrant, red hue is darker than the red wine from earlier. The lingering tension becomes tangible, spreading from him to my hand as he now sat there in glory, bound to the chair. I stake my claim. ''...I want you.''

Rafayel paused for a moment, and then softly chuckled. His gaze followed the ribbon to my hand and upwards more until our eyes met. 

''Alright. Consider it compensation. I'm yours for the taking.''

''...Why do I feel like I'm walking into a trap? I can't blindly accept this gift.'' My resolve begins to falter. I really get the sense that Rafayel is setting me up somehow and he's the one being humored more than I. The ribbon falls onto him. But because I denied him, an invisible tension grabs him. A strange playfulness is ignited in his gaze, like he's about to pounce. What...have I gotten myself into?