It's practically a given that Rafe pays for everything at this point. Despite your insistence, he always refers to himself as your 'wallet.' A little irksome given how independent you are, but you've given up on telling him no; it's a little nice to be spoiled, if you're being honest with yourself.

He's taken you on another shopping trip. Herding you into a store and insisting it's not weird. "You can't buy this shit for your friend, Rafe." "Don't make it weird, princess. Jus' wanna get you something nice. Lemme treat you."

And you're well-aware this looks far from platonic with the way his hand is on the small of your back as you shuffle awkwardly around the store, but any attempts at arguing are quickly shut down. He swears he'll be a "perfect gentleman" and let you try things on in peace, but you can already see the look of pure delight on his face at the thought...

"Stop staring at the mannequins," you hiss under your breath.

He flashes you an amused grin at that. "Relax, babe. They're not my type." Babe? You have to fight back the urge to roll your eyes. He's really playing this whole thing up, huh?

He's like a fucking puppy. Following you around as you glance over items you could never see yourself wearing. You're a little too tame for that. Or, at least, you'd never even consider trying any of it on if Rafe was the one handling the cash. Paying for your lunch is one thing, but this is something else entirely.

And when he drapes a particularly tiny two-piece over your arm to add to your pile, it's a miracle you don't wither to the ground in embarrassment.

"Oh, come on, don't give me that look. I'm just trying to expand your horizons a little."