~YOUR'S FORVER~
The house had fallen quiet, the warm hum of dinner chatter now just a memory. Somewhere down the hall, I heard faint laughter from the servants' quarters and the steady ticking of a clock. The cream–colored guest room Raffy's mother had given me was soft and serene, bathed in a gentle glow from the balcony's moonlight.
But sleep refused to come.
I lay curled up on the wide bed, scrolling aimlessly through my phone. Earphones sealed me off from the silence, music filling my head so the loneliness wouldn't. I should've felt safe here, tucked in with more warmth than I'd ever known, but the emptiness of the bed gnawed at me.
I didn't realize Raffy was restless too.
In his room, only a few steps away, he tossed and turned. The sheets felt too cold, too wide. Ever since he had grown used to holding me in his arms at night, sleep without me was impossible. My absence pressed against him like a shadow. Finally, with a muttered curse under his breath, he swung his legs off the bed, ran a hand through his messy hair, and slipped out quietly.
The hallway stretched between us, but it felt unbearable.
The door to my room wasn't locked—just closed. With careful fingers, he turned the handle and stepped in. The faint glow from my phone screen painted my face in blues and silvers. I didn't notice him.
He closed the door softly, locked it this time, and crossed the room. Then, without a word, he slipped under the blanket beside me, one arm looping around my waist, pulling me close in that familiar, aching way.
I gasped, heart leaping, nearly jumping off the bed. But then his hand slid gently across me, soft and unhurried. That touch. That unmistakable tenderness. Nobody else in the world could hold me like that.
"Raffy…" My voice was a whisper, trembling. "Why are you here?"
His breath tickled my ear. "I was bored."
I frowned. "Then use your phone in your own room. Problem solved."
A beat of silence. Then his voice, low and raw.
"Okay… I admit it. I missed you."
He shifted, his hand pressing more firmly at my side, turning me to face him. His eyes were dark but shimmering, as if every unspoken word was trapped there. "Now sleep," he ordered softly, taking the phone from my hand. He reached past me, placing it on the side table with finality.
I pouted, folding my arms. "Easy for you to say. I can't sleep like this. Not in this dress."
"Fine." He sat up, his tone mock–serious. "What does madam want?"
"A hoodie. And trousers. Something comfortable."
He sighed but smiled, standing. "Okay, madam."
A few minutes later, he returned with his own hoodie and a pair of soft trousers. I grabbed them quickly. "Now close your eyes."
"I'm not watching," he muttered, scrolling on his phone.
"I swear I'll kill you if you peek!"
"Then why don't you change in the bathroom?" he teased, smirking.
"Because I'm tired and lazy," I shot back.
His laughter was low and warm, but true to his word, he didn't glance once. Respect shone even in the small things he did. That was what I loved most about him—he always waited, always asked, always made sure I had the choice.
I pulled on his oversized hoodie, which fell past my knees, and tossed the trousers aside. The soft fabric swallowed me, smelling faintly of him—fresh soap and something purely Raffy.
"All done," I said.
He glanced at me, eyebrows lifting. "Wear the pajamas."
"I don't want to."
Before he could argue, I quickly buried myself under the blanket. He shook his head but slid back beside me, one arm slipping under my waist, the other resting on my thigh. His hand was warm against my skin, higher than it had ever been before, and my breath caught.
For a moment, I froze. Then slowly, I placed my hand over his, and instead of stopping him, I pressed it there.
His grip tightened, strong and protective.
I smacked his chest playfully. "So this was why you didn't want me to stay here? Because of separate rooms?"
He groaned. "It feels like I love you more than you love me. You don't miss me the same way I miss you."
I rolled my eyes. "That again? Raffy…"
"I mean it." His voice cracked slightly. He slipped his hand away from my waist, his touch gone. The sudden emptiness made my chest ache.
At first, I thought he was joking, but when he scooted slightly away, my stomach twisted. His eyes were serious, distant.
I reached out, grabbing his wrist, dragging his hand back against me. Pressing it firmly to my waist, I tugged his collar with my other hand, pulling him close until my lips brushed his ear.
"Never think that," I whispered fiercely. "Or I'll make it true. Don't you dare leave me like this. Don't ever remove your hands from me. I'm yours—completely. Truly. Forever."
My fingers slid through his hair, brushing it gently. His eyes softened, lips curving into a faint smile. His grip on me tightened, sliding back to my thigh, possessive and sure.
"You're mine," he murmured, voice rough. His mouth found my neck, pressing a kiss there. "Now and forever."
My body trembled, but I whispered back, "Not now."
He groaned dramatically. "There you go again."
"Because it's not the right time," I argued softly. "Wait. Marry me first. Then…"
He stilled. "When?"
I avoided his eyes, burying my face in his chest. He chuckled darkly. But he didn't press again. Instead, he pulled me closer, his hand firm on my waist as his fingers traced soothing circles through my hair until sleep finally claimed me.
At breakfast, his parents chuckled as soon as they saw me walk in wearing Raffy's oversized hoodie. I flushed, tugging at the hem.
"I was just uncomfortable in my dress," I blurted.
His mom's eyes sparkled knowingly. His dad cleared his throat, hiding a smile.
"Raffy," his mom said casually, "where were you last night? I came to your room. You weren't there."
Raffy froze mid–bite, then glanced at me. "I… was in the garden. Couldn't breathe in my room."
His father narrowed his eyes. "I was in the garden. You weren't there."
"Then the rooftop," Raffy said quickly.
Both his parents burst into laughter. His mom leaned over with a teasing smirk. "Don't hide it. It's okay."
Confused, I looked between them. "Hide what?"
"When you two were in your room, fighting and talking."
My fork clattered against my plate. I turned to Raffy, wide–eyed. "You told them?!"
He smirked. "No. You just did, right now."
I slapped my hand over my mouth, mortified. His parents laughed harder. His mom reached across, touching my hand warmly.
"It's okay, dear. I knew from the very first day I met you at the hostel."
I blinked. "But… we weren't even together then."
She smiled knowingly. "But he loved you then."
My eyes flicked to Raffy. His ears were red.
The morning melted into comfort. His mother fussed over me like I was her daughter, brushing my hair back, piling food onto my plate. His father cracked jokes and listened to my stories with genuine interest.
And then came his words:
"Why don't we all go out today? Somewhere fun."
I hesitated. "Unc- ... DAD, I—"
"No hesitation." His tone was firm. "We're a family. Families go out together."
I smiled softly, my chest aching with gratitude.
That afternoon, we sat in a cinema, popcorn in hand. His father had chosen the movie—a horror one. My worst nightmare. Raffy shot me a look of sympathy, but I swallowed my protest, not wanting to ruin his father's excitement.
Within ten minutes, I was screaming at the top of my lungs, clutching Raffy's arm so hard my nails dug in. People around us turned, glaring, whispering. Mortified, I buried my face in Raffy's chest.
"Shhh," he whispered, wrapping an arm around me protectively. His chest shook with laughter as he stroked my hair. "It's just a movie, drama queen."
By the end, my throat was sore, but we stumbled out laughing. Ice cream followed, melting sweetness on our tongues as we strolled back, the night alive with chatter and jokes.
His mom and dad were glowing, laughing louder than us. "We haven't had fun like this in years," his father admitted.
I pretended I had known them all my life, and they pretended right back. It felt… real.
But too soon, it was time to return to the dorms.
"I'll miss you," his mom whispered, hugging me tight.
"You should've invited her, not me," Raffy muttered, pouting. Everyone laughed.
His father pulled Raffy into a hug, pride shining in his eyes. "That's the first time you've ever talked to us so much. Thank you for being our son."
His mom joined in, eyes brimming with warmth. "And thank you for finding us such an innocent daughter… and the future mother of our grandchildren."
"Mommmm!" I cried, burying my burning face in my hands.
Laughter echoed around us.
In the car, as the city lights blurred by, Raffy glanced at me. "Did you enjoy it?"
"Yes!" I burst out immediately, yapping without pause. "I loved it so much. The food, the laughter, the cinema—even though the movie was terrifying, I'll never forget it. And your mom's hug felt like—like home. And your dad! He's hilarious, did you hear what he said about—"
I kept going, words tumbling, unstoppable. Raffy just smiled, tapping my head gently now and then, listening without interruption. His eyes never left me, filled with an adoration that said more than words ever could.
And somewhere between my endless chatter and his quiet smiles, I realized—I didn't just belong at that table anymore. I belonged in this family. In this love. In this life.