Officially her Bitch//Rafe Cameron (COMPLETE)

Part 38

Mias POV:
I turned off my phone and opened my arms, waiting for Rafe to come and sit besides me on the sofa. I didn't want any distractions. I wanted us together for just a few short moments before Topper inevitably found out where we were. Me and Rafe could never live in peace and I was coming to terms with that.

He sat down besides me, resting my head on his shoulder and kissing my temple, smiling softly at the innocent body contact.

'I've missed being this close to you.' I whispered, remembering the barrier of a hospital bed that we'd had the last few days.

'I promise, angel, you won't be that far away ever again.' He responded, reaching for the remote and turning on the tv.

The painkillers weren't cutting it, being shot was a feeling I'd never shake, and I remember Rafe telling me at the age of 15, hiding from our parents, that whiskey was a psychological painkiller.

I got up slowly, walking carefully to the kitchen counter and grabbing a bottle of whiskey, and a glass. Rafe turned to look at me, raising his eyebrows as I opened the bottle, pouring some down my throat and swallowing it without even a grimace.

'Hey, I'll have a glass.' He said firmly, coming up besides me and putting his hands on my hips, reaching around me to grab a glass.

'It helps.' I muttered, pouring myself another drink and having it a little slower this time.

'Psychological painkiller, huh?' He asked, a smirk forming on his face as his hand clasped around his filled glass, not breaking eye contact with me as he took a swig from it.

I took a deep breath, the intimacy in my eyes making me feel nervous. Nerves that felt so good to me. I didn't feel them often, but the whiskey was making me feel things I hadn't felt in a while.

I put down the glass and began to drink from the bottle, taking it over to the sofa and continuing to watch the tv, my eyes getting heavy and my legs getting weak.

'You should take it slower, love, you don't want to get drunk.' He chuckled, leaning down to kiss me softly on the lips.

I missed, kissing him on the chin, laughing as I fumbled for his face, trying to kiss him again. He took the bottle from me before I could drop it, putting it on the table.

'It seems you already are.' He responded, rolling his eyes playfully at me, holding my face firmly so that I could kiss him properly.

'It's only been a few minutes, Rafe, I'm fine.' I responded, shrugging him off and letting him pull me into his lap, smothering my face with kisses.

'Do you remember when we were only 14, the first time you ever tried a sip of alcohol, was at my place.' He smiled, running a soft and loving finger over my arm.

'Yeah, a bottle of amaretto you stole from your dad.' I responded, smiling at the memory.

'And what did you learn the next morning? Suffering an extremely large headache?' He asked, a smirk forming on his lips.

'The darker the liquid, the worse the hangover.' I replied, reaching for the bottle of whiskey and pouring myself another glass.

'Which is exactly why this is your last glass!' He exclaimed, taking the bottle from me and putting the lid back on.

We sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, admiring the time we had alone. As if it was our home, and we lived by ourselves.

'The paperwork will be done by the end of the week, and then we can move into our new home.' Rafe said, as if he was reading my mind.

'Can I see some photos of it?' I asked, ideas of how I wanted to decorate it making me extremely excited.

'Yes, let me go and grab my phone.' He smiled, giving me a small peck on the forehead before getting up and going upstairs to the spare room, to grab his phone.