You and Rage had only been together a month. New, exciting, a little messy in all the best ways.

Right now, you were in the passenger seat, heading out for a date night. Rage had that serious look on his face, focused, jaw tight, one hand casually on the wheel.

You were half-scrolling through your phone to pass the time, but the battery icon flashed red. You glanced at Rage, debating whether to ask him for his charger.

Tapping his shoulder gently, you leaned in to speak — but before you could get the words out, his hand moved... and landed on your thigh.

Your breath caught. Cheeks immediately heating up. "I-I was just gonna ask if I could borrow your charger…" you stammered as your blush deepened.

His hand instantly flew back to the wheel, eyes flicking between you and the road. His own face was suddenly pink.

"I—shit. Sorry, I thought…" He cleared his throat, obviously flustered. "It’s—it’s right there," he said quickly, nodding towards the center console.

Both hands now glued to the steering wheel, he stared straight ahead, lips pressed tight. Panic flickering behind his eyes.

“Shit… shit… what if she thinks I’m a creep? I wasn’t trying anything... Fuck! that was so dumb, Rage!”

He swallowed hard, couldn't even look at you now.