Love and Deepwater • A Rafayel story

Playing with fire

He stared at the closed door in front of him.

Rafayel had been sitting there for a while, the moment felt like an eternity to him as he waited for her to scheme something. He felt bored of waiting for so long when, suddenly, a sound broke the silence of the room.

Bang!

He heard a small thud coming from behind the closed door and his eyes quickly looked at the door handle, his eyebrows raised, his ears perked up.

Minutes passed, and his hearing sharpened, noticing the small sounds of her shifting on the floor. The bond was strangely quiet. Because of that, he started to worry, wondering if she had fallen asleep or was playing a different kind of game with him.

Tired of waiting, he rose from his seat and walked toward the bathroom. Pausing in front of the door, he pressed his ear against it.

No response so he knocked gently.

He heard some noises coming from the other side, a rustle but stillness.

He knocked again, firmer this time. But still, no words, no reassurance. The lack of response stirred worry within him.

'Enoria—? Are you okay?' His voice was soft, calming.

They had played this waiting game, a dance of anticipation and longing. But now, the stakes were higher. He knew he had lost, but if it meant seeing her again, it was a worthy defeat.

The silence was still deafening.

The silence pressed down on him, a weight that threatened to crush his resolve. Rafayel's concern deepened. This wasn't part of their game. Enoria's silence was a void he couldn't bear. His mind raced through scenarios: fainting, illness, an accident. Panic clawed at his chest.

He knocked louder, desperation fueling his actions.

'Enoria! Please! Open the door!' His voice cracked, revealing the raw edges of his worry. The bond between them remained expectant but silent. Two minutes stretched into eternity as he kept knocking, calling her name. His blood rushed, similar to a tempest of fear and urgency.

'Just say something!' He called.

The bond remained void, so Rafayel was getting pretty panicked at this point, he tried to hear if there was any sign of breathing, but there was no response.

Was she breathing? Was she conscious? The silence mocked him. Tired of waiting, Rafayel's fingers grasped the doorknob. He tried to turn it, but it resisted. It was locked.

His heart hammered against his ribs. Even though he was convinced that all of this was an act, the mere possibility of it being real was terrifying.

'Enoria,' he whispered, his voice breaking. 'I need to see you. Please.'

Rafayel stood outside the bathroom, his knuckles sore from repeated knocks. The wooden door remained unyielding, as if mocking him. He had lost count of how many times he'd rapped on it, but this would be his last attempt. The joke had gone on long enough.

'Enoria,' he called out, his voice a fragile thread in the silence. 'I will count to three, and then I will enter the bathroom. Please open up —before I break the door.'

His plea hung in the air, unanswered. Rafayel's worry gnawed at him. He knew Enoria wasn't hurt; she was too mischievous for that. But still, the silence unsettled him.

Rafayel waited a bit before he began to count.
He pressed his lips against the cold wood, whispering the first number.

'One...'