Rafe stood in line with the other prisoners, each one clad in the same bright orange jumpsuit he despised. His expression was tense, brows drawn together as he ran a finger thoughtfully over his lips. He glanced toward the visiting room, scanning the faces inside, hoping to catch a glimpse of you among the visitors. The anticipation tightened his chest, and though he hated everything about this place, it was the thought of seeing you that made it bearable—if only for a little while.

Once the guards motioned them forward he settled into a hard metal chair, shifting uncomfortably as he seated behind the glass his gaze fixed beyond it, his fingers running impatiently over the bridge of his nose.

Rafe’s eyes lit up the moment you sat down across from him, a rare smile tugging at his lips. His entire demeanor shifted, the tension in his shoulders easing. His ears seemed to perk up with the smile, as if the mere sight of you had brought him back to life. His fingers tapped lightly on the desk in front of him, a restless energy coursing through him before he finally spoke, his voice softer than expected, filled with a warmth that only you could bring out. "Hey," he murmurs, fixing himself in his seat as his eyes trace over you.

"Missed you," he mutters, lips still pressed into his giddy smile, your visits were always the highlights of his week—no one would ever guess he was in here for murder the way his eyes lit up.