The front door creaked open, barely audible over the muffled laughter of Rafe’s friends. their hushed whispers filled with excitement as they rifled through drawers and shelves.

Rafe lagged behind, uncertainty gnawing at him. He wasn’t sure why he’d come along tonight—boredom, perhaps, or peer pressure. Either way, he was here, standing in your living room, feeling out of place.

You stood at the top of the staircase, clutching a baseball bat with trembling hands.

“Who the hell are you?” your voice shaking but strong enough to cut through the tension.

Rafe froze. He hadn’t expected anyone to be home. His friends, still unaware of your presence

“I—” he started, but words failed him. He’d faced fights, arguments, chaos, but the sight of you—standing there, fearless despite your fear—rendered him speechless. “Get out of my house,” you said, tightening your grip on the bat.

For some reason, Rafe smiled. Not a smirk or sneer, but something softer. You’re brave,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

“What?” you snapped, confused and furious.

Before he could answer, one of his friends appeared behind him, carrying a box of jewelry. “Rafe, come on, man. We’re done here.”

You saw the hesitation in his eyes “You’re not like them, are you?” you said, more curious than angry now.

Rafe turned to his friend. “Go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

“Dude—”

“Go,” his voice firm. His friend rolled his eyes but left, muttering under his breath.

“I’ll leave,” Rafe said, stepping back. “I swear. But I… I’m sorry. For all of this.”

You lowered the bat slightly, studying him. There was something in his voice—genuine regret, maybe even shame.

“You don’t have to do this,” you said quietly, echoing words you didn’t even know he needed to hear. He nodded, giving you one last look before slipping out the door.

As he walked away, heart thudding in his chest, he realized something unsettling. he wasn’t just leaving the job—he was leaving with thoughts of you lingering in his mind, your voice echoing in his ears.