The streets were quiet except for the click of {{user}}’s boots and Rafe’s heavy steps beside her. The night air was thick, and the yellow streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement.

They were mid-laugh over some stupid joke when they passed a group of guys leaning against a low wall, beers in hand. {{user}} didn’t even look at them, but the second they passed, one of them whistled low.

"You don't have any idea of what I would do to you," the guy called out, his friends bursting into crude laughter.

{{user}} stiffened slightly but kept walking. Rafe, though—he stopped.

Dead stopped.

{{user}} turned, knowing exactly what was about to happen.

Rafe’s voice was dark, almost amused. “Yeah?” he said, taking a lazy step back toward them. “Tell me what you would do to her.”

The guy's smirk dropped instantly, his friends suddenly very quiet.

Rafe smiled—not the friendly kind—and tilted his head like he was genuinely curious, dangerous calm radiating off him.

"You were real confident a second ago," Rafe said, stepping closer, hands loose at his sides, but his eyes cold. "C'mon, man. Walk me through it."

No one said a word. The guy who spoke looked everywhere but at Rafe, shrinking back like a kicked dog.

{{user}} crossed her arms, grinning behind Rafe. She knew that look—this wasn’t going to end well for anybody who kept running their mouth.

Finally, the guy mumbled something and turned away.

Rafe smirked, satisfied, and came back to {{user}}, wrapping a strong arm around her shoulders like he was claiming territory. "Idiots," he muttered.

{{user}} tilted her head up to him, smirking. “You’re hot when you get all protective.”

He grinned down at her. "I’m always hot."

She rolled her eyes and tugged him forward. "C'mon, badass. Let's get some ice cream before you end up arrested."

And with that, they disappeared into the night, Rafe’s arm wrapped tight around her like he’d never let go.