"Rafe, you're so drunk," I slurred, trying to focus my eyes back on the party that gleams from the window. "So are you," he says lazily, his alcohol tainted breath fanning my ear as he presses his lips to the skin of shoulder. "I want you," he whispers, sending chills down my back.
"No, no you don't," I debate with slowed words, my actions betraying me as I tilt my head for his access to my neck. "Well it seems like you do sweetheart."
Butterflies emerge in my stomach, but I'm drunk, probably more than him, and the little sobriety I have left in me doesn't want to do anything I'll regret. I mean, he could be doing this with any girl right now...
My thoughts are interrupted by his hands on my thighs, rubbing circles into the flesh and he picks me up, setting me on the bathroom counter. My arms crave to touch him, to wrap around his shoulders, his neck, but I stay put.
We're face to face as he tilts his head a bit, examining me. "You really don't wanna kiss me?" He asks, his hands traveling higher up my thighs, pinning me in place. I shake my head weakly, almost making me dizzy. His pupils dilate in the slightest way, his face leaning in, his lips brushing against my cheek.
"You sure?" He asks, getting a small, "yes." He then kisses my other check and my forehead. "100 percent?"
No response.
He smirks shyly, kissing my forehead and along my right jawline. "How bout now?" He asks yet again, drowsier than ever. He blinks slowly at me, not really with tiredness- besides the fact that he's beyond drunk- but with care. God he's so dreamy. He's looking into my eyes as if he knows me already, like he knows I'll say yes.
I didn't say yes.
I didn't say anything at all before he kissed my lips ever so softly. I swear it was the softest kiss anyone has ever given me. I pull him in closer, his hands moving my arms around his neck, then his arms around my waist securely.
My fingers found their way into his hair, lightly gripping the strands in between the webbing of my fingers. I taste the sweet wine that dried on his lips, balancing the bitter shots of vodka I downed earlier that night.
We start to kiss harder, as if we'll never get enough, as if the world was ending soon and these were our last moments. But it didn't even feel real, his lips molded against mine, his body pressing against mine, his hands roaming around my back under my shirt.
There wasn't a word strong enough to describe the feeling. Not even euphoria, no.
After what seemed like hours- maybe it was- he finally pulled away, his lips slightly reddened and his hair a complete mess. The effects of my drinking started to wear just a bit, making me feel extremely fatigued, like my neck couldn't support my head.
I think I even closed my eyes for a couple seconds, and Rafe noticed this, gently resting my head on his shoulder. He glided his hands over my arms, noting, "you're cold too. Do you have a ride home?"
I gently nod against his shoulder, muttering, "my car's outside." "No no no, you can't drive home like this. You wanna stay over?" He asks, rubbing my back in attempts to warm me up.
I nod again, "yeah?" he asks gently in confirmation. He carefully picks me up, my eyes still closed as he opens the bathroom door, making his way up the grand stairs of his house.
Topper, clearly as drunk or high- probably both- shouts obnoxiously at Rafe's direction, saying something about getting laid that I couldn't make out. He ignores it, entering his room and shutting the door behind him, the booming music drowning out.
Half asleep himself, he lays me down on the bed, taking my shoes off and pulling his covers over the both of us when he lays beside me.
I use basically all my strength to open my eyes, seeing his baby blue ones gazing at me. I rest my hand on his cheek, giving him the opportunity to pull me close, draping his arm over me.
"I would make out with you right now but I don't think I've ever felt this tired before," I admit, earning a quiet laugh from him. He pecks my lips softly one last time before shutting his eyes.
Before I do the same, I whisper, "Rafe?"
"Yeah?"
"Promise when you wake up you won't leave."
"I won't."
"Promise?"
"Cross my heart and hope to pass, stick a needle in my ass."
"That's not how it goes," I giggle.
"I know," he whispers, kissing the top of my head before dozing off with me...
only to appear in my dreams right after.
AWWWW. I hope y'all like fluffy Rafe. I feel like we collectively decided he's a wine kinda guy. Also anyone else getting wildly stressed out from school? I'm 15 and taking 2 college classes and I wanna rip my hair out already lmao OK BYE NOW
-MJ
