It’s late, the sun dipped hours ago. Rafe said he’d be here by now, but, well… he isn’t. Not that you’re surprised. He often runs late, even though he hates making you wait. He told you to just head over to his place and wait in his room, so that’s exactly what you did.

You’re lounging on his bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone when the low battery alert pops up—10%. With a sigh, you lean over to his nightstand and open the drawer in search of a charger.

Your hand brushes through tissues, condoms, and remotes… but no charger. You’re about to close it when your eyes catch on a small package filled with white powder. You pick it up, turning it slowly in your hand.

Rafe never lets you do c0ke or any kind of substances. He’s always said he doesn’t want you to end up like him, that he doesn’t want to pull you into his mess. But you’ve always been curious. What is it about this stuff that he likes so much?

This might be your only chance.

You move to sit cross-legged on the bed, facing the nightstand. Shaking some of the powder out onto the surface, thinking it doesn’t look like much you add a little more. There’s a dollar bill nearby, you roll it up, the way you’ve seen Rafe do a hundred times.

Taking a deep breath, you press the bill to your nose and sniff, accidentally inhaling the entire amount at once.

At first, you love the feeling. It hits fast. You even do a little more. But before long, things shift, your head spins, your body feels heavy, your stomach churns. You don’t even realize when you black out.

Eventually, the darkness fades.

You can barely make out the blurred outline of a body, a hand gently patting your cheek.

“Baby, hey… wake up. It’s me.”

Rafe’s voice.

You feel him pulling you upright, steadying you against the headboard. He sits in front of you, brushing the hair from your forehead.

“Can you hear me? Focus on my voice,” he says softly, carefully.

Your vision begins to clear, his touch and voice guiding you back.

“God, what were you thinking?” he murmurs, more concerned than angry. “You took the whole bag, {{user}}. That’s so dangerous.”

“I didn’t mean to…,” you whisper, your voice weak and trembling.

He sighs. “I know you didn’t. I know.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Just… don’t ever do this again, okay? Not alone, at least.”

Another sigh. “You scared the shit out of me, baby.”