It was just another lazy afternoon at Tannyhill, you and Rafe sprawled out on the couch. The conversation you two had naturally drifted to what you two always seemed to talk about:

the Pogues.

“God, they’re so annoying” you huffed, your voice dripping with annoyance. “Especially JJ. He’s just so…” You threw your hands up dramatically, looking for the right word. “Ugh, I don’t even know how to explain it. Just ugh.”

Rafe smirked, taking a sip of his beer as he watched you rant. “I know exactly what you mean.“

You let out a frustrated laugh, leaning forward. “God, I hate them. I wish I could just-” You paused, lifting your hands and doing a dramatic slicing motion across your neck.

Rafe’s laugh was deep, his blue eyes glinting with amusement. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, clearly entertained by your dramatics.

“Mm.”

“Do you think you’ll k¡ll for me one day?” you teased, the question, half joking but also .. genuinely curious.

Rafe didn’t even hesitate. His smirk deepened, and his voice was smooth and firm. “Yes, of course I will, my darling.”

You laughed it off.

A few days later, you were curled up on your bed scrolling through your phone when the knock came. You frowned, walking to the door, already annoyed.

When you opened it, the words you had ready to snap at whoever was on the other side died in your throat.

There Rafe stood, chest heaving, his hair messy, his shirt stained with blood, his knuckles were bruised—raw, and there was a faint cut across his cheekbone.

Despite it all, he wore a grin that sent a chill down your spine.

“I did it. For you, baby.” he said, his voice low, steady, and so damn calm it made your stomach flip.

Your lips parted, but no words came out. You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Rafe… what? What did you-?”

He stepped closer, closing the space between you. His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from your face.

“You said you hated him,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against your jaw. “So I fixed it.”