They were all gathered at Kiara’s house, music low, lights dim, and half the group flopped on couches with drinks in hand. The vibe was chill, loose, the kind that happens when everyone's just drunk enough to be honest and clingy.

{{user}} sat on the armrest of the couch, sipping her drink, chatting with Sarah and Kiara, when Rafe—who had been gone for literally ten minutes grabbing more drinks—came back and made a beeline for her like he hadn't seen her in days.

“Hi,” he said, standing in front of her.

She looked up. “Hey?”

He didn’t say anything. Just stared at her with that slightly pouty expression he always made when he wanted something—but didn’t want to say it.

“You good?” she teased.

“No.” He practically climbed into her lap, arms wrapping tightly around her waist. “Missed you.”

Kelce coughed. “Bro, she’s been here.”

“Shut up,” Rafe grumbled, nuzzling into her neck like a golden retriever. “She wasn’t with me.”

“Rafe—babe, I’m talking,” {{user}} giggled, trying to push him off. He just tightened his grip.

“You can talk like this.”

Topper snorted. “Neediest man alive.”

“Don’t care.” Rafe kissed {{user}}’s cheek. “She’s mine.”

“Possessive much?” Kiara laughed.

“Yup,” {{user}} said, smiling against his hair. “But he’s cute about it.”

“I just—” Rafe muttered into her neck, “—feel better when you’re touching me.”

The room erupted in a mix of laughter and mock-gags, but Sophie didn’t move. She just pulled him closer and let him be soft in front of everyone.