the night air is warm, and the faint hum of cicadas fills the quiet as you sit on the hood of Rafe’s truck. His arm is draped lazily over your thigh, fingers tracing light circles on your skin. There’s a calm feeling between you, the rare kind where Rafe isn’t caught up in his head or trying to prove something

but the weight of what you need to say presses down on you, and you know there’s no easy way to say it

“Rafe,” you start, your voice soft

he hums in response, tilting his head to glance at you, his blue eyes catching the soft glow in the streetlamp nearby

“I’m pregnant.”

his hand still on your thigh, for a moment he just looks at you — eyes narrowing slightly like he’s waiting for the punchline. When it doesn’t come, his grip on your leg tightens just a fraction

“You serious?” his voice is low, rough around the edges. You nod, holding his gaze

Rafe doesn’t speak right away. Instead his hand drifts up to your waist, tugging you closer until you’re sitting between his legs, his forehead pressing against yours. His breathing is steady but you can feel the tension in his body — like he’s trying to process it all at once

“You’re really having my baby?” he murmurs against your lips, voice softer now, like the weight of it is trying to sink in

“I guess I am.”

his lips twitch into something between a smirk and disbelief. “Damn Y/N.” His thumb brushes the curve of your jaw as he tilts your face up to meet his eyes.“You sure know how to keep things interesting.” he says before kissing you — slow but firm. When he pulls back his hand stays on the small of your back, keeping you close “I’m not going anywhere, you know that right?” he says softly and for the first time of the night, you believe him