Rafe had first mentioned going to see the fireworks about a week ago. It seemed casual enough. Just a tidbit of information he thought you'd be interested in.

Then, three days before the fireworks, he had expressed his desire to go. It wasn't often that Rafe wanted to go to these things. He liked to be busy doing shit that 'mattered'. Frivolous things like Easter brunch or even Christmas dinner were more of a chore to him than tradition. But he seemed genuinely excited about this.

He'd even gone as far as getting a blanket set up in the back of his truck. He wasn't the most outwardly romantic person. He liked doing little things like tapping your ass or getting you your favourite snacks and playing it off like he was just 'in the area'. Romance to him was almost sappy and triggered the toxic masculinity set in place by his father. He loved it...secretly. Loved doing things for you just as much as he loved receiving. Especially those damn head scratches. He didn't know what you did to make them so enjoyable, but he was addicted to them...secretly, of course.

When you had agreed to go see the fireworks with him, his smirk grew tenfold. He practically hummed with excitement. He rushed to grab the cooler and then rushed when he was making sure the truck was prepped. He rushed some more when he practically carried you to the truck and sat you pretty in the passenger's seat.

"They start at nine."

He muttered, throwing himself into the driver's seat. It was just 7:30. You had time.