You weren’t expecting Rafe to come along. He wasn’t either—until your moms practically forced you both into the back seat, saying something about “bonding before prom”. Classic Kook behavior. Rich parents and their carefully planned chaos.

Now you were both inside this overpriced boutique, your mother already fluttering off with Rafe‘s mom to browse “more elegant options,” leaving you and Rafe standing among racks of thousand-dollar gowns and tuxedos.

Which left you here — standing in front of the mirror in a long, silver-blue dress that hugged your waist just right. You weren’t sure about the neckline though. You adjusted it a little, frowning.

“You keep pulling at it,” Rafe said behind you.

You turned slightly. He was sitting on a velvet bench just outside the fitting room area, long legs stretched out, hands resting on his thighs. His white button-down was only half-buttoned, sleeves rolled up. No tie, obviously. And he looked like he didn’t care about being here — but somehow still hadn’t left.

“I think it’s weird up top,” you muttered, glancing back at the mirror.

He tilted his head a little, like he was actually thinking about it. “Nah. Looks good.”

You scoffed. “You’ve seen it for two seconds.”

“I don’t need more than that.”

You tried not to roll your eyes, but you kind of smiled. That was the thing with Rafe — he was cocky, but not always in the wrong.

Then, out of nowhere, he asked, “You going with someone?”

You blinked. “What?”

“To prom,” he clarified, eyes still on you. “You got a date?”

It caught you off guard. Not because of the question — but because of how he asked it. No teasing. Just… curious.

You looked at him through the mirror. “Do you care?”

That got his attention.

He leaned back a little, biting the inside of his cheek like he hadn’t expected you to call him on it. “Just wondered,” he said after a beat. “Didn’t see anyone ask you yet.”

“And you would’ve noticed?”

He gave a slow shrug, like maybe.

You turned back to the mirror, heart a little faster now for no good reason. The dress still felt too fancy. But suddenly, it wasn’t the only thing that felt too much.

Rafe stood up, hands sliding into the pockets of his dress pants. “Try the red one next.”

You glanced back. “Why?”

He was already walking toward the rack, voice low but clear: “So I can see if it makes you nervous.”

You didn’t answer — just watched as he ran his fingers across the hangers like he’d been in this place a thousand times.

Somehow, it didn’t feel like a joke.

And somehow… you didn’t want to move.