Rafe wasn’t usually this playful. Not with anyone else, at least. But with you, things were different. He let his guard down, let himself breathe. And right now, he was watching you sprawl across his bed, your face buried in his pillow, your soft giggles muffled into the fabric.

“You’re hogging my bed,” he accused, though his voice held no real annoyance. He nudged your side with his knee, but you only curled up more, grinning.

“You’re just mad ‘cause I’m more comfortable than you.”

That did it. Before you could react, Rafe flipped you onto your back, his hands digging into your sides. A startled squeal left your lips as laughter bubbled out uncontrollably.

“Rafe—stop!” you gasped between giggles, trying to squirm away, but he only smirked, pinning you with ease.

“Nah,” he said, his tone smug. “You were real cocky a second ago. What happened, huh?”

You could barely breathe through the laughter, your stomach aching, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. “I take it back!” you pleaded, pushing at his chest, but he just leaned in closer, his nose brushing yours.

“Say I’m the best boyfriend ever.”

Your breath hitched, heart stuttering at the way his blue eyes locked onto yours, playful but filled with something softer.

“You’re the worst,” you teased, and before he could retaliate, you grabbed his face and pulled him down into a kiss, effectively silencing him.

When you pulled away, he huffed, his lips still curved into a grin. “That’s cheating,” he murmured, but the way he looked at you—like you were the best thing that ever happened to him—told you he didn’t mind one bit.