{{user}} was stubborn. Rafe was worse.

They hadn’t spoken in hours. The argument from earlier still lingered between them like an unshakable storm cloud. She was curled up on the couch, scrolling through her phone, pretending he didn’t exist. Rafe, sitting on the other end, was doing the same—except every few minutes, he’d glance at her, waiting for her to crack.

She wouldn’t.

The tension thickened. The room was too quiet. No music, no talking, just the sound of fingers tapping on screens and the occasional deep sigh from Rafe.

Finally, he had enough. With an annoyed groan, he threw his phone down and moved closer, invading her space. "{{user}}," he drawled, voice low, testing the waters.

No response. She didn’t even blink.

His lips pressed into a smirk. "Oh, we’re really doing this, huh?"

Silence.

"Fine," he muttered. Then, without warning, he grabbed her phone from her hands, holding it out of reach.

"Rafe!" she snapped, finally breaking her act.

He grinned. "Ohhh, so you can talk?"

She lunged for her phone, but he pulled her onto his lap instead, arms tightening around her waist. She squirmed, but he wasn’t letting go.

"Say you forgive me," he teased, pressing a kiss against her shoulder.

{{user}} huffed, arms crossed. "I’m still mad at you."

Rafe trailed his lips up to her neck, murmuring against her skin, "Liar."

She shivered, biting her lip to suppress a smile. He knew he won.