Rafe tries, he really fucking tries to listen to you. At first, he even hums occasionally, nodding like he’s following along as you jump from some local Kook drama to some TikTok breakup scandal to the metaphysics of manifestation in less than five minutes. But he’s been staring at the same goddamn email for the past one hour and every time he starts typing a response, your voice and animated expression distrupt his focus. Not that he doesn’t like your voice, he really does but Jesus Christ, your ability to switch topics with zero warning is insane.

“So apparently this girl—no, wait, it was actually her cousin..well, someone’s cousin—”

Rafe exhales sharply, fingers flexing against the keyboard. He’s not even sure what email he’s working on anymore because now he’s somehow thinking about some influencer’s faked breakup, and that’s not even the weirdest thing you’ve rambled about in the last hour.

You continue talking “...and then people found his Venmo trans—mmph"

He grabs your face, kisses you mid-sentence, cutting you off completely. You let out a muffled noise of protest, hands instinctively gripping his shirt, but he doesn’t pull back—not until he feels you melt against him, lips parting, a tiny sigh escaping.

When he pulls back, his mouth is curved into that lazy smirk when you try to glare at him. “You talk too much,” he mutters, thumb swiping over your bottom lip.

You blink, dazed for all of two seconds before you try to pick up right where you left off. "Anyways I—mmph" the second your mouth opens, Rafe kisses you again. Every time you try to speak, he cuts you off with a kiss, until you’re giggling and pushing weakly at his chest.

“Rafe!”

“Mmm? You done?" He presses one more kiss to your lips, softer this time. You huff, crossing your arms. “You’re so rude.”

Rafe just grins and shakes his head, then leans in and presses a final, feather-light peck to the corner of your mouth. “Baby, I love you. But, for the sake of my financial future, please shut up for, like, ten minutes.”