Don't Let Me Fall - {Rafeed fanfic}

4- [Las Vegas to Angelas]

Rafael

The next day was awkward. And by awkward, I mean really awkward. We didn't even text it was that bad. I had gone home, straightened everything up and making sure that creep hadn't stolen anything, let Mía out, and did my usual afternoon business. It was hard to fall asleep though. Yes, me and Daveed had gotten into some really awkward shit before, but what was this? A new feeling or sensation? I didn't think there was much to it. After all, I've always felt some sort of spark around Daveed. I've almost felt that same spark around other people, mainly all of the girlfriends I've had, but it was never quite the same.

I walked from my kitchen to the window in the living room and looked out at the beautiful city streets, the feeling of a founded home in it's own way.

What did I feel though?

When we're acting together, I see him as a brother, but that's just acting. My emotions change when I'm acting. It's also different when we're with people, then it just feels like a best friend. Like we're best friends with nothing to it.

But then, there's when we're alone. He knew my triggers, he knew my likes and dislikes, he knew my humors and what I liked to do, and even how I liked to be treated.

Almost on cue, Mía scampered over to me from the couch and started licking my ankles. "Mía! Aww!",

I laughed and picked her up. "Hi sweetie", I said as she started licking my face. I hugged her.

She stopped licking me for a second, her attention caught by some passing birds migrating back south for the spring.

I smiled. "You're lucky Mía, you have no worries. All you've got to do is watch the birds pass. You don't have to deal with money, bills, drama, all of that stuff. You're just a happy pooch, aren't you?", I said, scratching her ears.

Her attention was still guided away from me. I sighed and sat her down. "Want me to turn on the tv for you?",

She looked up at me, her tail wagging as a sign her attention was now on me. I chuckled and walked to the couch, sitting on it. The black remote was sitting on the coffee table, so I picked it up and turned on the news. Of course it was ranting about people in the White House modifying bills, spending money, and putting propositions out there.

Of course I didn't agree with any of the bull, and Mía just watched not understanding.

I sighed, setting the remote to the hell/heaven device down. As I set it down, I realized my poem book was lying there. It seemed to be waiting for a pen to just fill it's pages with lines upon lively, mesmerizing lines of poems.

I grabbed the grey composition book and flipped it open to a blank page. Looking around, I stood up from the couch and walked into the kitchen.

After grabbing a pen and walking back into the living room, I sat on a small wooden chair and started to write.

Three hours later

So, I've been writing for three hours, the sun is setting, Mia is asleep on the couch, I'm surrounded by crumpled up paper, and I'm fucking out of paper in this comp book.

Reeeeeeal great.

Not to mention I was thirty and had no motivation to even move.

I just dropped the cover of the book and slouched over, running a hand through my hair. "No poetry can express what I'm feeling yet, 100% confirmed", I sighed.

That was when I heard a knock at the door.

//OK YALL IM SORRY I DIDN'T GET THIS PUBLISHED SOONER I FORGOT TO SORRYYYYYYYY//