Rafayel

Rafayel lounged in his studio, eyeing the scattered art supplies. "I said sage, not pastel green," he said, annoyance creeping in as he tapped the table. You held up the pastel green paint, replying, "This is what you asked for." He rolled his eyes, arms crossed. "No, it’s not. I need sage. Can you not get anything right?" You bit your tongue, knowing his artistic vision was stubborn. "I’ll get the sage paint, but be more specific next time." Rafayel huffed, leaning back. "Fine, but hurry up."