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A Blessing - LDV Ficlet

Contrary to his brother’s belief, Rafael does not have a stick up his ass.

Does he have standards? Yes. Does he have a system? Absolutely.

Does he have crippling anxiety that whispers in his ear that he must do everything according to his system to meet his standards? You bet your ass, he does.

But he doesn’t have a stick in his ass, thank you very much.

That would make it very difficult to do some of the things he does, such as sitting on the carpeted floor of his father’s office and read through and review a dozen different campaign strategies before midnight.

Dad didn’t ask him to do it. Dad certainly didn’t ask him to do it before midnight.

But Rafael’s system did, and his standards insisted.

He has to listen. Not abiding by his system and compromising his standards would be a colossal mistake. A mistake that will result in everything around him crumbling down.

People might even die. Who knows?

“Rafael?”

Rafael looks up at the voice and smiles. “Hey, Maia.”

Maia is dad’s campaign advisor. If things go as planned and they make it into the White House – the very thought of which sends a shiver down his spine – Maia might even lead the White House Communications Office.

Dad met Maia in college. Rafael knows the whole story.

He first thought that it was a bad idea to employ your friends. But dad always says that its greatest strength – surrounding yourself with people you love and trust.

Maybe Rafael finds it complicated because he doesn’t have many friends. He is not very good at making them or retaining them. But it’s fine.

He has a system. He has standards. His system says that to achieve his standards, he should have at least three good friends by the time he turns 30.

He is still 21, so he should be fine.

“It’s late,” Maia points out, as if he doesn’t know. He didn’t know actually. But it’s fine. “Did you eat?”

Rafael points at the half-eaten box of takeout on the floor. “Is dad done with the meeting?”

“Not yet,” Maia replies. “But he asked to check if you want to go home. It looks like it’s going to storm tonight too.”

“I’m not done with these yet,” Rafael points at the files scattered around him.

“You can come back here and do them tomorrow-”

Rafael shakes his head immediately. “I have to finish today. Before midnight.”

Maia eyes the documents with uncertainty, as if it’s not a realistic goal. Then she nods and walks away.

Wow. That was easy.

He really thought she might put up a fight about it.

But the thing is, Maia is super smart. She’d never do something if she knows there is someone out there who can do it better and quicker.

“Rafael.”

Ah shit. Of course she called in big guns.

“What’s up?” Rafael asks casually.

“I’m taking Max home and you’re coming with me,” Bapak informs, and it doesn’t sound like Rafael has a choice.

Rafael turns around and looks at his brother who has been passed out on the couch for the last two hours. Poor thing must be exhausted after all that training.

Max has his own system – about what he eats and when he sleeps and how he exercises. If Rafael listens to his brain, Max listens to his body.

Rafael will never understand how someone as impulsive and reckless his brother could practice such discipline. He wishes his brother would apply that commitment to something a little less intense – something that doesn’t require him to wake up at four in the morning and sacrifice chocolate.

“I’m not done, bapak,” Rafael points at the campaign files. “I need to read all of them and then organize them for Maia.”

“You know the election is next year, not next month?”

“That’s only twelve months. Not enough time!”

“When I said you should take a break after college, I didn’t mean camping out in your father’s office,” Bapak shakes his head.

“Dad needs all the help he can get,” Rafael says a little seriously. “Also, if all of us leave now, he’ll probably feel like we abandoned him.”

“I will not fall for your manipulation,” Bapak huffs and then frowns a little. “But I suppose I could send Max home with Elyaas, then stay here and help you.”

“No, I have a system!” Rafael all but wails. “I have to do it my way. It’s the most efficient way.”

Bapak sighs at that. “Darling, you’re not going to finish all of this on your own.”

“I can if you stop talking to me,” Rafael points out.

“Alright,” Bapak puts up his hand, always knowing when to concede. “But if you don’t come home with your father, I will lock the front door.”

“No, you won’t,” Rafael replies, not looking up.

“No, I won’t,” the man sighs at that. “Will you wake your brother up and ask him to meet me in the lobby. I’ll get the car to come around.”

When Rafael pokes his brother in the tummy, Max immediately wakes up and sits up straight – as if he is in the army or something. He frowns at his Apple Watch and then frowns further at Rafael. “You interrupted a really nice dream.”

“Were you dreaming in French?” Rafael makes a face. “You were mumbling.”

“No,” Max huffs and then makes a wistful expression. “Do you know if the prince will attend the Olympics next year?”

“What prince?”

“The Prince of France, Rafael, who else?” Max rolls his eyes. “It’s happening in Paris, remember?”

“Ah,” Rafael replies and then shrugs. “I don’t know. He’ll probably be at the opening ceremony.”

“I see. I see,” Max nods seriously.

Rafael chuckles at that and shakes his head. “Bapak is going home. Meet him at the lobby.”

“You’re not coming?” Max yawns.

“No.”

“I can stay if you want,” Max offers.

“No, I’m good,” Rafael replies. “You go home and sleep properly.”

“Okay,” Max yawns again. “I need to go home and take an ice bath anyway. Coach says we need to get used to cold water because Paris is going to be cold as shit in February.”

Rafael truly worries about his brother sometimes. All this training stuff is getting a little out of hand. He should probably mention it to his parents.

But he needs to stick to his plan for now. One task at a time.

He immerses self into campaign strategy from the Obama campaign, focusing on grassroots organizing. He has no idea how much time has passed when he hears a knock on the door.

“I’m almost done,” Rafael lies immediately.

He has seven more campaign strategies to read up on and its quarter to midnight. He might have slightly miscalculated the amount of time that he needs to read through these files.

It’s not his fault. Whoever wrote this was extremely thorough so he can’t help but take his time with it, digesting every crucial detail to better understand their own campaign for next year.

“Yeah, you’re going home,” Dad informs.

“But I’m not done,” Rafael points out.

“We are closing the office,” Dad counters.

“Can I take these home?” Rafael gathers up the files to his chest.

“It’s too sensitive, Rafe, I don’t think so,” Dad replies.

Rafael chews his lip. “I wanted to finish this today.”

Dad sighs at that as he walks over and crouches next to Rafael on the floor. “The world is not going to fall apart just because you didn’t finish this today.”

But it will. It might.

Rafael doesn’t know how to explain it to his parents or anyone else. If he can’t finish his tasks for the day, then it will up with his tasks for tomorrow and then it will go on like that until everything turns into a shitshow.

And the next thing you know dad will lose the election and it will all be Rafael’s fault.

“I just want to help,” Rafael says quietly.

“I know,” Dad puts a careful hand on his shoulder. “But you’re not helping right now, you’re holding everyone up from going home.”

“Right,” Rafael swallows. “I’ll come home with you.”

His brain is screaming at him to shut up.

You’re doing it wrong. You’re doing it all wrong. You didn’t finish your task! You’re going to mess everything up!

“Hey,” Dad says gently. “Would it help if I give you a new task to accomplish?”

He knows. Dad always knows.

“Yes, please,” Rafael replies immediately.

“Could you drop Anjali home?” Dad asks. “I think she’s going to take a cab, but you know how I feel about those.”

Oh shit.

Is this what people mean by digging your own grave? Probably.

But it’s still a task and Rafael is happy to do it just in case it will quieten his brain a little bit.

“Okay,” Rafael nods and packs his things up. “I can do that.”

“Great,” Dad smiles and turns around. “Ah, Anjali. Good news. Rafael will drop you home.”

Anjali narrows her perfectly manicured eyebrows. “I didn’t ask to be dropped home.”

“Yes, well, it’s late and you know it’s not safe for a young girl to-”

“So, the solution is to be chaperoned by a man?” Anjali asks in amusement. “It’s interesting how the problem and the solution both happen to be men.”

“Anjali, it’s past midnight and I haven’t had enough whiskey for this conversation,” Dad pinches the bridge of his nose. “Now please go home and we can talk about how much the patriarchy sucks tomorrow, okay?”

“I’ll hold you to it, Mr. Lightwood,” Anjali gives a little salute.

Dad rolls his eyes fondly and gives Rafael a nod before leaving the room with his jacket and keys.

“I just like fucking with him,” Anjali informs to no one in particular.

“Lucky,” Rafael mumbles under his breath.

“Sorry?” Anjali frowns.

“Nothing,” Rafael clears his throat. “We should probably leave before it starts raining.”

“Okay,” Anjali replies as she picks up all the files on the floor.

“Dad said to not take them home,” Rafael says quickly. “They’re sensitive.”

“I know,” Anjali rolls her eyes. “I wrote them.”

“Oh,” Rafael blinks. “Um. They’re…They’re really well-written. I liked how you had pointed out the key learnings under each strategy and noted the potential risk factors too.”

Anjali gives him a look at that. “Don’t flirt with me.”

“I wasn’t!” Rafael squeaks.

He was. He totally was. He just didn’t think she’d clock it.

They take the elevator quietly, Anjali carrying half a dozen files in her arms and Rafael trying not to nervously pull at his jacket.

“You scared of elevators or something?” Anjali asks.

“No,” Rafael swallows. “I just…I don’t wanna get caught in the rain.”

“I can still take a cab.”

“No,” Rafael shakes his head immediately. “I have to drop you home.”

It’s a task. He has to finish it.

“You have to drop me home?” Anjali scoffs.

“I just meant…I promised my dad I’ll do it,” Rafael tries to explain.

“Your dad is very annoying sometimes,” Anjali informs as the elevator opens.

“Why do you work for him then?” Rafael asks curiously, voicing the question he’d always wanted to ask her.

“Because working in the White House will look great on my CV,” Anjali shrugs. “Make it a little easier to make my way into the Supreme Court one day.”

“I just didn’t think you’d want to be a secretary,” Rafael points out.

Anjali looks over her shoulder. “You think about me, Santiago?”

Rafael flushes at that. “I just meant-”

“Nothing wrong with being a secretary,” Anjali tells him. “Especially if you’re working for someone who knows what they’re doing.”

Rafael smiles at that. “I’m glad to hear that. My dad speaks highly of you too.”

Anjali’s stilettos come to a screeching halt as she whirls around and jabs him with a long, red acrylic nail. “Tell me everything.”

Rafael chuckles at that as he spots his bike and walks over to it. “You should consider your options though. Just in case we don’t make into the White House next year.”

“You don’t think we will?” Anjali frowns.

“We will if we follow our strategy and do everything exactly as we’ve planned,” Rafael points out. “But, you know, things don’t always have to plan.”

“That’s what losers say,” Anjali scoffs.

“I just like a good backup plan,” Rafael shrugs. “There are plenty of judges in New York you can work with. Or you can work in the DA’s office.”

“The District Attorney is a cunt,” Anjali says very matter-of-factly.

Rafael chuckles at that as he takes out his keys. “You know, you’d get along great with my brother.”

Anjali groans at that loudly. “No offense, but that boy gives me a migraine every time I talk to him.”

Rafael chuckles again. “Well, you’re gonna have to put up with him a lot if we make it into the White House next year.”

“When we’re gonna make it into the White House,” Anjali corrects him. “And when we do, you and your doubtful ass owes me a set of new highlighters.”

“Textsurfer Classics or the Zebra Mildliners?” Rafael asks as he climbs onto the bike, chuckling at Anjali’s expression on the mirror. “What? I know my way around stationery.”

Anjali scowls at that before climbing in behind him. "I told you not to flirt with me."

Rain pours down on them just as they make it to the Lower East Side, just a couple of minutes away from the Williamsburg Bridge, close to where Anjali lives.

“Do you want me to pull over?” Rafael loudly asks over his shoulder.

“We’re almost there. Let’s just keep going,” Anjali shouts in his ear. “I think it might get worse if we wait.”

Rafael nods and tries to go a little faster. He senses Anjali shift behind him and watches her remove her jacket and drape it over the slides close to her chest.

“Anjali, you’re going to get sick!”

“I need to protect files!”

“Don’t you soft copies?”

“Don’t be stupid. Of course I do.”

“We’ll just get more printouts.”

“But you already annotated most of this.”

Rafael pauses at that. “It’s fine. I can do it again.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Anjali!”

“Just shut up and get me home.”

By the time they get to her apartment building, they are both drenched, Anjali worse than him. Rafael considers giving her his jacket, but it’s of no use.

“I told you,” Anjali tells him, teeth chattering a little. “It got worse.”

“Shit,” Rafael sighs, looking at the rain that pours down the street. Bapak will kill him if he tries to ride his bike in this rain.

“You can stay at mine until it calms down,” Anjali shivers a little and walks over to the elevator.

The elevator ride is quiet and cold. Anjali’s apartment is even quieter and colder.

It’s everything and nothing Rafael expected.

He’s known her since he was in high school. Dad’s friends with Anjali’s father and they met at a fundraiser and Rafael’s been obsessed with her even since.

He likes to think he knows her well – mostly by observing her. Because the thought of talking to her terrifies him. What if she thinks he is just another dude trying to hit on her? Even though he is fact just another dude trying to hit on her?

“If you don’t stop that, I’m going to punch your judgy little face,” Anjali glares at him.

“What?” Rafael coughs. “Your apartment is, uh, lovely.”

“I know it needs cleaning,” Anjali rolls her eyes, putting away four empty cups of chat on her coffee table.

“I’m not judging. I know you’re super busy,” Rafael says carefully. “Although…You could get a cleaner?”

“Pay someone to clean my house?” Anjali snorts loudly. “My Amma might just disown me.”

Rafael chuckles at that and shrugs. “Well, I don’t mind.”

He does. He minds a lot. But it’s rude to tell someone their house is messy and it’s beyond stupid to say that to the girl of your dreams.

“I’ve only got one bedroom, so you’re gonna have to take the couch,” Anjali tells him, walking over to the couch and picking up a bunch of things off it. Why is the laundry detergent on the couch? Never mind.

“That’s fine,” Rafael replies. “Can I have the files back?”

“Aren’t you going to sleep?” Anjali demands incredulously.

“I can’t sleep in new places anyway,” Rafael shrugs, which is only half a lie. In truth, he can’t sleep when he knows she’s right there, too close and too far at the same time.

“You need sleep,” Anjali frowns at him.

“I need the files,” Rafael corrects.

“Well, you’re not getting them.”

“Anjali.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I was planning to work on it tonight, okay?” She huffs in response. “You don’t get to interrupt my routine.”

“Your 1 AM routine?” Rafael raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t be a hypocrite,” Anjali rolls her eyes. “Bathrooms on your left. I can give you some clothes to wear if you want. I have some of my dad’s shirt-”

“I don’t mind wearing yours,” Rafael tells her. “I’m sure I can pull it off.”

Anjali rolls her eyes at that before walking off to her bedroom and returning with a pair of grey sweatpants and a plain burgundy t-shirt. “Let’s see if you can pull it off.”

Rafael tries not to scream. “Is it okay if I use the bathroom first?”

“Yeah, I need to clean up here anyway,” Anjali sighs and glares at her own living room.

Rafael quickly heads to the bathroom and gets changed, trying not to have a panic attack the entire time.

It’s fine. It’s fine. He can handle this.

Just go out there and be normal.

Don’t do anything weird. Don’t say anything weird.

Just be normal. Be chill.

When he walks out of the bathroom – dressed in Anjali’s clothes, ah! – he finds the girl leaning over the now clean coffee table and setting down the files.

“Do you need help with that?” Rafael asks. “I’m sure we can finish it soon if we do it together.”

See?

Normal. Chill. Nothing weird. All good.

“I guess that makes sense, thank you,” Anjali sighs at that. “Give me a minute. I need to get out of these wet clothes first.”

“Do you need help with that?” Rafael asks again before can stop himself.

Anjali stills at that before slowly turning around to face.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Run. Jump out of the window. Save yourself.

She walks over to him and cocks her head. “What did I tell you about flirting with me?”

“Uhhh,” Rafael replies eloquently.

“You and I?” Anjali says slowly, and Rafael can’t help but focus on the water droplets running down her neck. “It won’t work.”

“Why not?” Rafael asks stupidly.

“Because I will be part of your father’s permanent staff very soon.”

“If he becomes President, you mean.”

“When.”

“If.”

“When.”

“If.”

“Why can’t you be delusional for a minute and believe that he can actually win this thing?” Anjali demands in frustration.

“Someone has to keep all of you on your toes,” Rafael hears himself reply. “Besides, the only thing I’m delusional about is thinking that you like me as much as I do.”

“Well, that depends,” Anjali hums quietly. “How much do you like me?”

“Enough to fantasize about a world where my father doesn’t win and I can ask you out on a date,” Rafael chuckles.

“But you love your father,” Anjali says in confusion.

“Very much,” Rafael nods. “But-”

“But what?”

“But I want to kiss you so bad, I think it’s starting to drive me a little insane,” Rafael sighs tiredly.

Anjali looks at him incredulously. “I think you might be crazier than your brother. I can’t believe he’s the sensible one.”

“You take that back!” Rafael gasps.

Anjali chuckles at that and shakes her head. “This would be a big mistake, Rafael.”

“I hate mistakes,” Rafael tells her.

“I know,” She smiles a little. “Which is why I don’t want be one.”

“You would never be a mistake, Anjali,” Rafael bites his lip. “You’re a choice. One that I desperately want to make.”

Anjali looks at her hands and groans a little. “This would be a lot easier if you were an entitled jackass who happens to be my boss’ son.”

He knows.

He knows there is something here.

He’d never in a million years talk to her like this or flirt with her when he can if there wasn’t something. He’s seen it. He’s felt it. He knows it’s the same for her.

But he also knows it won’t work out. She does too.

Not when everything will be complicated after next year.

Of course there is a simple solution to all of this.

Anjali could simply not work for his father. But he could never ask her that. He’d never do that.

It’s not fair. It’s not right.

How could you love someone and not want the best for them? How could care about someone and not when them to have everything they deserve and have dreamed of?

He can’t do it. He won’t do it.

Anjali’s dreams are more important than his feelings. He will always stand by that.

“Sorry,” Rafael chuckles wearily. “I could try to be an entitled jackass who takes advantage of his father’s secretary. Ask you to bring me coffee or grope your ass.”

“If you ask me to bring you coffee, I will dump it on your head,” Anjali tells him menacingly. “Although I’m partial to the groping.”

“Amor, don’t play with me,” Rafael shakes his head, feeling an ache in his chest.

“I’m not,” Anjali whispers quietly. “I…I’m not, Rafael.”

“Oh,” Rafael exhales, all the air in his lungs leaving him at once.

“Maybe it doesn’t have to mean anything,” Anjali says carefully.

“It’s you,” Rafael tells her in a whisper. “It will always mean something to me. You’re too amazing for it to be anything less.”

“Stop being nice about this!” Anjali groans loudly. “You’re making this difficult!”

“I’m sorry,” Rafael laughs. “Fine. I’ll be mean to you. Your paragraph spacing is shit.”

“You take that back right now-”

“Ow! Okay! Okay!” Rafael laughs again, pushing away when she tries to him hit him again. But he doesn’t let go of her hand. He doesn’t want to. “Can I kiss you?”

Oh.

Oh, there is no going back now.

Anjali’s dark eyes shut close at that. She sighs and shakes her head. “You shouldn’t.”

“Right,” Rafael swallows. “Sor-”

“But I want you to,” Anjali confesses quietly.

“Really?” Rafael can barely himself.

“Maybe a kiss is okay,” Anjali says slowly.

“Yeah,” Rafael agrees, trying not to pass out with each passing word. “Just a kiss.”

“Just a kiss.”

“Exactly.”

“And then we get back to work.”

“Of course.”

“We’re professionals,” Anjali tells him. “We can control ourselves.”

“Totally,” Rafael nods. Then there is quietness. He swallows again. “So, does this mean I can now kiss-”

When she leans forward and kisses him, he knows it’s all over. When he feels her fingers in his curls, he knows there is no going back.

He’s thought about this moment so many times that it’s kind of embarrassing.

He’s thought about Anjali kissing him and his head exploding – and not in the fun way.

He had expected his brain to scream at all sorts of things.

Stop! Warning! Red alert! Danger! Stick to the system! Where are the standards? Stop this at once!

But he hears nothing right now.

His brain, for the first time since he can remember, is quiet.

It’s almost as if it’s got nothing to say to him. It’s almost as if it knows he’s got more important things going on.

As if it knows nothing could possibly be more important than Anjali.

Most of it all, it doesn’t feel like what he thought it would feel like.

A mistake.

It doesn’t feel like a mistake. In fact, it feels like a blessing.

A blessing.

Something he shouldn’t regret, but something he should be eternally grateful for.

A blessing.

#these nerds istg #rosewood #ldv #l'appel du vide #my fics #also not alec inadvertently setting up his kids with their soulmates oops

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