You and Rafe were arguing again. It was nothing new. It felt like a regular part of your relationship. He’d say something stupid, you’d call him out, and then the two of you would go back and forth until one of you—usually you—decided to walk away before it got any worse.

This time wasn’t any different.

You rolled your eyes, every nerve in your body firing as you turned away from him. “You’re impossible, Rafe.” you muttered, already halfway out the door.

“Where are you going?” His voice was sharp, almost panicked, and you could hear the shuffle of his feet as he followed behind you. “Babe, come on. Don’t walk away from me.”

You spun on your heel, giving him the dirtiest side eye you could muster, one that could burn through steel.

“Don’t babe me, Rafe. You’re ridiculous.” Your disgusted look lingered for a second longer than necessary, enough to make him hesitate in his tracks. Good.

But of course, Rafe didn’t know how to quit.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” His tone was softer now, borderline desperate as he jogged to catch up to you. You didn’t even flinch, letting him stew in his own guilt while you kept walking, your pace quick and purposeful.

You were quite literally walking him like a dog.

“Okay, okay, you’re mad. I get it. But can you just stop for a second? Please?” His voice cracked just a little, but you weren’t about to make this easy for him.

You slowed down slightly, just enough for him to trail right next to you, his tall frame towering but completely humbled by the look of disinterest on your face.

Finally, you stopped, crossing your arms as you turned to face him. “What, Rafe? What could you possibly say right now that’ll fix this?”

His jaw tightened, hands twitching at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them. His eyes wide and pleading—were glued to yours, and you could see the way he was falling apart just from you walking away.

“Whatever you want me to say,” he mumbled. “I’ll say it. Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it.”