21 Days - Love and Deepspace

Life as an undercover fake wife isn't exactly exciting, as it turns out. You've only been here for four days, and you're already starting to feel restless. Xavier has spent most of the day setting up surveillance around the apartment, while you've been busy cleaning up the small piles of mess he leaves in his wake. Tech gadgets aren't really your thing, but the telescope he set up on the balcony off your bedroom is intriguing. The thought of him out there, spying on people like a nosy old woman, is somehow much cuter than it should be.

Living with him is both like and unlike what you expected. He's still the same quiet, sweet, and thoughtful person he's always been, but you'd imagined the two of you would spend more time together. Instead, Xavier is always busy with one thing or another. You're not exactly sure what he's doing—after all, it's just the two of you in this tiny apartment—but somehow, he always seems to be in a different room. Aside from sharing a haphazard meal and a bit of playful bickering about the ideal apartment temperature, you've barely spoken to him today.

You've been out on the balcony for a while, watching the sun dip below the horizon as the evening chill settles in. The last light of day lingers, painting the sky with deep shades of yellow and orange that gradually melt into a delicate blue. It's the kind of sunset that holds you in place, almost hypnotic in its beauty, and it makes you think of Rafayel. He'd love this—he's always had an eye for moments like these, where nature seems to put on a show just for the few who take the time to watch. You linger a moment longer, breathing in the crisp air and letting the colors wash over you before snapping a quick picture to send to him.

After slipping out of your t-shirt and jeans, you reach for your favorite cozy pajamas, a soft, well-worn purple set that's just perfect for a cool evening like this. The fabric feels familiar and comforting as you pull it on, wrapping you in warmth. You glance over at the bed, which seems to be calling your name, promising a cocoon of softness and quiet. With a satisfied sigh, you pull back the covers, savoring the feel of the crisp sheets as you settle in, letting the day's tension melt away. Snuggling deeper into the pillows, you grab your phone and open your text messages.

Miss Bodyguard: How's my favorite artist doing? I saw this and thought of you. Could be inspiration for a new painting?

Fishie: so you are alive

Fishie: its been like 800 years

Fishie: when are you coming back

Fishie: Reddie misses you and has been refusing to eat

Fishie: he dun like it when youre gone

A smile spreads across your face as a stream of incoming texts lights up your screen, each one making you miss him more. You shift, settling deeper into the pillows on what you now think of as your side of the bed. It strikes you as odd to have a side at all, something you've never really given much thought to before. But here you are, and it's official now—Xavier claimed the side closest to the door on your first night together, and it's been the same ever since.

Miss Bodyguard: Really? Reddie told you that?

Fishie: yes isnt it obvious

The next text brings a smile to your face—it's a picture of Reddie floating in his bowl with a cartoonishly exaggerated sad face drawn onto the image, complete with stickers of oversized, dramatic tears. You can't help but roll your eyes at the absurdity of it, but a laugh escapes you anyway, bubbling up unexpectedly.

You're so absorbed in the conversation that you don't even hear Xavier enter the room. It isn't until you feel the bed shift under his weight that you realize he's there. Startled, you glance up just as he sits down beside you. He peeks over your shoulder, his curiosity evident as he studies the screen.