The rain drummed softly against the window, a gentle backdrop to the lazy Saturday morning you spent in Rafe's cozy house. You were curled up on the couch, a warm blanket draped over your legs, while Rafe stood in the kitchen, the aroma of coffee wafting through the air.
"Hey, can you hand me that mug?" he called over his shoulder, his voice muffled as he rummaged through the cabinets.
You looked around the small living room, filled with the clutter of lazy afternoons—books scattered on the coffee table, a few stray socks on the floor, and the remnants of last night's popcorn bowl on the couch. You smiled to yourself; this was exactly what you loved about weekends with Rafe—comfortable chaos, laughter, and a sense of being completely at home.
"Is this the mug you mean?" you called back, holding up a mismatched, chipped mug that he had claimed as his favorite.
Rafe turned around, a smirk on his face as he nodded. "Yep! The one with the bad poetry on it. Perfect."
You rolled your eyes playfully as you handed it to him. "Maybe if you spent more time reading real poetry, you'd appreciate the finer things in life."
He took a sip of his coffee, raising an eyebrow at you, the steam curling up into the air. "And maybe if you spent more time writing bad poetry, I'd appreciate it too."
You laughed, tossing a pillow at him. "I'm not going to waste my time on your level, Rafe."
He caught the pillow easily, chuckling as he tossed it back at you. "Good luck with that. But seriously, I like the mug because it reminds me that it's okay to not take everything so seriously."
You paused, taking a moment to reflect on his words. "You're right. I think we could all use a reminder of that sometimes."
After a moment, Rafe joined you on the couch, sinking into the cushions beside you. He was still in his pajamas, a loose t-shirt and sweats that hung low on his hips. The way he looked—completely relaxed and at ease—made your heart flutter. You tucked your feet under you, leaning against him as you both sipped your coffee.
"So, what's the plan for today?" you asked, glancing out the window at the gloomy sky. "It's not like we can go outside without getting soaked."
Rafe thought for a moment, a mischievous smile creeping onto his face. "How about we have a movie marathon? We can binge all the terrible romantic comedies I know you love."
You grinned, a little giddy at the idea. "That sounds perfect! But you know I'll pick the first one."
He raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Are you sure you want that responsibility? Remember last time?"
You laughed, remembering the way he had groaned when he realized the movie was a sappy classic he'd seen a million times. "Hey, you agreed to it!"
"Because you said it was 'a classic'," he replied, laughing. "You know I can't resist a good debate."
You stood up, grabbing the remote from the coffee table and settling back beside him, your excitement bubbling over. "Fine! But I'm choosing first. Get ready for some classic romance!"
You flipped through the options, settling on a movie that made you both roll your eyes, but you couldn't resist. As the opening credits began to roll, you leaned into Rafe, who wrapped his arm around you, pulling you snugly against him.
"Just so you know, I'm going to critique every unrealistic moment in this movie," he teased, taking a sip of his coffee.
"Good luck with that," you shot back, snuggling closer. "You know I'm going to be too busy swooning over the leads."
