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Raf just hadn't expected to like it so much, even turning a blind eye at some of the historical inaccuracies.
"Wouldn't it be so much fun to go hunt for treasures like that?" she sighed dreamily. "It sounds so…free."
"It does, doesn't it?" he smiled, imagining such an adventure for them.
"Well, if you liked it so much, don't come at me when I make you rewatch it in a few months," she giggled.
"Why not? I think we only have a short list of movies we like to rewatch. I'm definitely willing to add this to the list."
"I still can't believe this is your favorite, too," she said, almost in awe.
"Now that I think about it, doesn't it always happen this way? Last time you suggested we watched Buffy and now it's my favorite show, too."
"I was so sure you'd hate it," she laughed. "It was my favorite growing up, but the CGI is not the best."
"But the storyline is damn addictive."
"You know, I never expected you to be Team Spike," she added after a moment, sharing a funny gif with Spike from the musical episode.
His lips drew up in a smile, browsing the gifs and sending a few of his own, most of them consisting of Spike mooning after Buffy and being clueless of his feelings.
"Hey, Spike and Buffywork. Their feelings grew naturally, and they also had awesome teamwork. Angel was a little off from the beginning," he commented, grabbing a bottle of soda from his desk. He popped the lid off to take a sip before going into a tangent on why Spike was better than Angel ineveryway.
"I know," she gushed. "Who wouldn't want someone to be as obsessed with them as Spike was with Buffy? Even without a soul he loved her."
"Damn, Curiouscat. Don't tell me you've been a closeted romantic all this time?"
They'd been talking steadily for two years now, and in all that time she'd always tried to come across as cynical towards love and relationships, but from her commentaries on different shows, he'd seen there was more to her—a part of herwantedthat. But for some reason she was afraid to admit it. He wondered if she thought it would make her seem weaker in front of him since he was a guy.
"I have not," she replied vehemently. "I just happen to believe real romance and fictional romance are two different things," she tried to argue in her defense. "Fictional romance is a place of comfort. Real romance? Nonexistent."
"I don't think you've met the right person," he shot back. "Maybe when you do your views will change."
Raf hadn't met the right person either, but somewhere deep in his heart, he was still hopeful. He knew the whole world was against him, his isolation becoming harder and harder to bear as the years went by.
Yet it was times like this—friendships like this—that kept him afloat. And this relationship reminded him thateverythingwas possible. After all, there had been a time when he'd been so hopeless, he'd never thought he was going to have a friend, never mind someone like curiouscat. For all their differences in the beginning, she'd become his best friend over the years, helping him overcome his bouts of depression and being there for him when the rest of the world was decidedlynot.
He'd never crossed the line, though. He might have wondered if it was possible at one point, but he'd never wanted to do anything to make her uncomfortable. He knew how vulnerable women were on the internet, and the last thing he wanted was to come across as a creep.
They'd talked about sex and romance in abstract terms, but their conversations hadneverstrayed into uncomfortable territory. There might have been some jokes that could border on innuendo, but they'd both kept their interactions respectful—fun.
Though he could see their relationship becomingmore, he didn't want to ruin what was already working. And by God, if she rejected him, he didn't want to make things awkward as they would undoubtedly be.
"Maybe," she answered noncommittally. "Anyway, you didn't tell me how your meeting with your advisor went. Did you manage to get his signature?"
His face erupted in a smile.
Curiouscat could be so standoffish sometimes, but she was nothing if not attentive, not one detail escaping him. It was what he valued the most about their friendship. She knew how to listen, and she didn't merely pretend to do so. No, she took notes, making sure to ask for updates and give him her honest opinions on his issues.
He was the same with her, but the exchange was heavily skewed in his favor. She shared facts about herself, certainly more than before. But there was a reluctance to go in depth about her private life that he respected, never pushing for more.
At the same time, he didn't think he was sharing anything out of the ordinary by telling her about his scholarly projects, or the fact that he was in his last year of college and currently writing his senior dissertation.
"Yes, I did. Finally," he groaned.
It had been a battle to get all the approvals for his project, since it involved using the university's archaeological collection.
"I can't wait to read it," she told him honestly—with a hint of excitement, even.
