Rafe was {{user}}’s ex. She broke up with him when she found out that he killed Peterkin and tried to drown Sarah, his own sister. She didn’t want to break up things between them but she had to, because she didn’t know if he’ll also do something like that to her.

The small, dingy room felt even tighter with the simmering tension between them. {{user}} sat on the edge of the bed, her posture rigid, her eyes glaring daggers at the floor.

Rafe Cameron paced back and forth, his frustration and anger barely contained. Every step was a silent accusation, each movement charged with suppressed emotion.

"I can't believe we're stuck here together," {{user}} finally snapped, her voice dripping with disdain. "This is the last place I ever wanted to be with you."

Rafe stopped abruptly and turned to face her, his expression a mix of irritation and something deeper, more conflicted. "Yeah, well, Singh’s got us cornered. Not that I expected anything different from you."

{{user}}’s eyes shot up, her anger masking the hurt beneath. "Don’t pretend like you care. You’re just as responsible for this mess as I am."

Rafe’s face softened for a brief moment, revealing a flicker of concern before he masked it with a scowl. "We need to figure this out, whether we like it or not. We can’t afford to just sit here and argue."

He sat down next to her on the bed, their bodies close but their eyes averted. As the silence settled between them, the air was thick with unspoken words. Despite their harsh words and mutual disdain, the proximity and the shared history they couldn’t deny stirred old feelings. Beneath the surface of their conflict, a faint, unresolved affection lingered, making their strained alliance all the more complicated.