2012 Raphael Novels & Stories

Evelyn replied. On the other hand, Raphael returned to his room and closed the door leading to the balcony. He was done receiving fresh natural air for the night. He still had some things to do. He was already in a bad mood tonight but after listening to Evelyn's voice, he had managed to calm down. His mouth was still paining him that he had to nurse the swollen part. He brought out his laptop and logged in to his secret account. On clicking on a button, different architectural buildings popped up bearing the title EXCLUSIVE NORTH STAR. He rubbed his palms against each other before relaxing on the chair, his eyes glued to the screen.

~ (Raphael) I was dreamwalking my own dream to get some peace and quiet and let myself read a bit. I never really got much time to myself, running a multitude of Covens and all. So my escape was in my dreams. I had just downed a second glass of brandy, which I had just turned silver, when I felt a presence.

He gestured for them to sit before taking the journal from Emma’s hands. “I haven’t thought about Mrs. Williams in years,” he admitted, his voice tinged with sadness. “She was one of the most extraordinary people I’ve ever known.” Emma leaned forward, her eyes searching his face. “The journal mentioned a project you were working on together. Do you remember what it was?” Raphael nodded slowly. “It was a series of paintings. She called it “But one day”. It was meant to be a celebration of resilience and hope, inspired by her own struggles when you found her contract document from your ex-husband's house. But we never finished it.”

Raphael looked up at Melany with a cold look in his eyes. He sneered, turned around, grabbed a cup of tea and drizzled it on the painting. Melany's eyes widened again. "Raphael, what are you doing? This is my painting..." "This painting has long belonged to me, and it has nothing to do with you." Raphael's voice carried a strong tone of disgust. "Since you say this painting is yours, there is no need for it to stay in my house anymore. Maddox, throw this painting out." Two bodyguards immediately walked in, picked up the painting on the floor, and headed out.

Raphaël entered, two tablets under his arm and a coffee in his hand. “Mon ami (My friend), the old man’s servers are better protected than the Bundesbank vault, but…” He stopped when he saw me, his gaze following mine to the magazine. “Ah. The masterpiece of family propaganda. Are you admiring yourself? It looks good, I admit. You clean up well in photographs.” I ignored the comment. My attention was still trapped on the page. “Rapha…” My voice came out lower than usual. “Look at the boy.”

Came to a thought, Raphael decided to used his ability. Raphael, momentarily lifted his body from the ground while he float on mid air. With arms outstretched forward, Raphael casted a spell. "Water creation, Ultimate magic: Raging storm" an overwhelming storm rain drops of water and snow showered upon the ground in massive distance. These water droplets and snow droplets was the very most sharpest amongst the sharpest weapons. The enemies limbs was been castrated from their bodies. But his comarederies whose been hit was not feeling any damaged. Its like a normal storm of rain and snow to his comaraderies. The enemies numbers been lessen in a huge amount. It became par to theirs. Raging st

Raphael is standing by the fireplace in pajamas, looking like a page out of a high-end magazine with just pajamas. He's holding a cup of coffee, watching me descend the stairs like I’m the main event.

* Rafaels was already there, sleeves rolled up on his black button-down, paint stains on his jeans like he’d been working on something personal. Mid-thirties, intense dark eyes, messy hair that always looked like he’d run his hands through it too many times. He had this way of looking at your work, and at you, that made it feel like he was peeling back layers whether you wanted him to or not. “You’re late,” he said, not looking up from the canvas he was studying under the track lights. “Had to finish the last sketch.” Isabella set her portfolio down and started pulling out the big charcoal drawings. Nudes. Her own body mostly, from different angles in the mirror at her apartment. Raw stuff.

He chuckles at my feeble attempt, only stepping back with a malicious grin. Raphael isn’t as tall as Marco, but he is still a decent height for a male. And he didn’t get classed as a bully for no reason. Although muscular, there is no smooth elegance or refinement to his physic. Raphael is a rough piece of work, as if he has been carved with a blunt knife. Curated with jagged edges, a shaggy unkempt beard and buzz cut. He is like a rusty machete, worn, weathered, and ragged, but still dangerous enough to cut you and give you a nasty infection. “Stop! Stop this nonsense!” I yell, decently fearful, as I feel a close friendship with Mr. Barlow. Even with his annoying old man tendencies. I don’t

The mere thought of it would make Raphael lose his control over his sanity. Raphael punched at the pillar beside him as he was standing at the balcony and took some deep breaths. "Why Winter is my mate? I cannot get her off my mind," he complained to himself. His eyes turned deep red, his growls increasing. "How can I turn into such a weakling because of Winter? I've been in rut for many times, but never once I felt this way," Raphael mumbled and rested his back against the pillar. His entire body was burning and the beads of sweat formed on his forehead.