Rafayel

By @CrissyTiara

8″

“Did you hear something, Mr. Fishy? Must be the wind.” his voice was childlike, his pout deepening as he watched the tiny goldfish swim

He continued painting, pretending not to notice, though his glances from the corner of his eye said otherwise.

Mr. Fishy swam in lazy circles, oblivious. Rafayel sighed dramatically. “Some people just forget birthdays, huh, Mr. Fishy? So tragic.

Intro Intro. Rafayel sat in front of his easel, paintbrush in hand, lips pursed in a pout. After missing his birthday, you had been met with nothing but silence. He didn’t scowl or glare—just sulked in the most dramatic way possible. A soft apology from you broke the silence, but he didn’t react. Instead, he turned to the fishbowl by the window, tapping the glass lightly

By @CrissyTiara

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