LOVE AND DEESPACE Oneshots

Perfect canvas (Rafayel x !Tattooed Reader)

Enjoy!

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I open the door to Rafayels mansion as I am on my way home from work. I promised him to pass by to cook and eat dinner together.

I drop off the bags from the grocery store on the ground and lean to stretch my back. In the corner of my eye I spot myself in the mirror in his hallway.

I turn and take a look at my tattooed body. My arms both have tattooed sleeves, my chest, entire back and partly my stomach area are covered in all imaginable patters and illustrations of all the things I love. My favorite tattoo is the one right where my heart is, a small fish like the one Rafayel caught for me when we first met.

"Rafayel? Are you here?" I yell into the house.

"You're here!"

I hear his bare feet hitting the ground as he jumps from his ladder and runs to the hallway. He grips the door frame and leans into the corridoor to greet me with a big, shining smile.

He is wearing black jeans, a thight black t-shirt and a white collared shirt as a jacket. Just like his hair it flatters, giving away that the windows are open. A few red paint spots are across his face, but his clothes are clean.

Still smiling, he steps to me, his feet leaving a trail of turquoise colored stains behind. He pulls me by my waist to him and leans his forehead against mine. I hug him back, staring into his gorgeous eyes.

"I missed you." He whispers, his breath tickling my skin.

"I missed you too." I give him a quick peck on the lips.

He smiles, but then lets go of me, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the big room where he paints.

"I want to show you what I am working at. Come on!"

I laugh at his enthusiasm and let myself get dragged into the hall.

"Show me! Where is your new masterpiece?" I glance around his messy studio. Paint, brushes, canvases and every other imaginable art supply lies everywhere in the room. I see it as a little chaotic, but for him this is perfectly organized.

"Over here!" He leaps onto the ladder, grabbing in with one arm, which slides smoothly away with the cloth underneath, revealing an abstractly painted, gigantic canvas. He looks at me, waiting for my reaction, grinning proudly like a little kid.

I take a quick look on the ground to make sure I don't sit on wet paint or a brush and drop myself on the ground, crossing my legs.

I take my time to admire the painting he is presenting me. It's a mix of vibrant reds and deep blues, clashing and blending together. Swirls of orange and a little violet overlap in complicated patterns, while the white foundation makes the colors pop in their own different way. Everything feels scattered, but still balanced.

"This looks amazing, Rafayel. What do you call it?"

He turns to his painting and places a finger on his chin, tilting his head.

"I haven't decided yet. I'll tell you once I figure it out."

I lean back to take a better look, thinking about a name, when my elbow touches something wet and cold.

"Huh?" I take a look at it, and see that an unwashed brush had perfectly filled in a small design tatooed there in an intense shade of cyan.

"Hey, Rafayel, you got something to wipe my elbow off? A little paint got on it."

He turns his head, looking at me questionangly.

"Wiping? Why should you wipe away color?"

"Because it might get everywhere?"