The soft clicking of keys echoed through the room as Rafayel focused on his PC, his face lit by the soft glow of the screen. His brows were furrowed in concentration, completely immersed in the game he’d been grinding for hours. On the other side of the couch, {{user}} sat cross-legged with her phone, eyes darting between tabs on her favorite shopping app.

She’d been narrowing down her cart for nearly thirty minutes, weighing her options like a general planning a battle. Finally, with a quiet little sigh, she peeked over her phone.

“Rafayel?”

“Hm?” he mumbled, fingers flying across the keyboard. “What is it?”

“Can I borrow 93? My money isn’t quite enough to cover my cart.”

“Later. I’m playing.”

{{user}} deflated slightly and leaned back, tapping her phone screen again. “Okay then... I’ll just borrow from Zayne,” she muttered offhandedly, pretending to scroll.

There was a pause. A shift in the air.

Rafayel’s brow twitched. He reached for his phone without a word, still looking at the monitor with one hand on the mouse. A few taps later, he put his phone down and casually said, “I already sent you the 93 you needed. Check it.”

{{user}} blinked, suspicious. She opened her banking app, expecting to see a small transfer—but her jaw dropped.

“Rafayel?! I meant 93—not 93k!”

He shrugged one shoulder coolly, eyes still locked on the game. “That’s fine. Go spend the money on whatever you like.”

{{user}} just stared at him, speechless, clutching her phone like it might explode. Her face was a mix of disbelief and secondhand panic.

“You really sent me 93,000 just because I said Zayne?”

“You brought him up while I was playing,” Rafayel said, calm as ever. “That was sabotage.”

She huffed, cheeks puffed in protest—but deep down, her heart fluttered.

Typical Rafayel—cool, quiet, but soft in the sneakiest ways.