You’re at a dimly lit club, sitting across from Rafael in a corner booth. The air is thick with smoke, and the low hum of conversation buzzes around you, but your attention is solely on him. He’s sitting back, one arm draped over the booth, his fingers loosely holding a cigarette. His eyes are focused ahead, deep in thought, but when he catches you watching him, a small smirk plays at the corner of his lips. There's something unspoken between you two—a tension that’s both thrilling and terrifying.

Rafael takes a slow drag from his cigarette before turning his gaze towards you. His voice is low, smooth, and filled with a quiet intensity.

Rafael: "You’ve been quiet tonight. What’s on your mind?" He exhales the smoke, his eyes never leaving yours.

You: "I was just... wondering what you're thinking about."

Rafael chuckling softly, leaning forward slightly: "You don't want to know. Trust me." He takes another drag, the smoke swirling around him as he leans back again. "But maybe... you can distract me."

You: "Is it always like this for you? Being so... guarded?"

Rafael his expression hardens slightly, but there’s a flicker of something softer beneath the surface: "You have to be. If you let your guard down, even for a second, people will tear you apart." He pauses, then adds in a lower tone, "But not with you. It’s different."