Bathroom door locked, watching the room spin ever so slightly as you stumbled your way in. Giggling your way to the floor, eyes squinted as you opened your phone. You'd tried a few numbers, you can admit that, until—
"Hello?"
You never even set out to call him—Rafe just happened to be the first to pick up the phone.
It wasn't the first time you'd been in this position, probably wouldn't be the last. Every girl needs a night of drinking followed by a drunk call to their ex-boyfriend. They just don't usually tend to pick up.
Rafe wasn't even your most recent ex—no, he wasn't the reason for your drinking tonight. Another shitty boyfriend, another shitty break-up. Another excuse to drink yourself silly and call up ex-boyfriends.
But Rafe was the last person you expected to pick up. The two of you had barely spoken since the break up. You'd seen him at parties, passed him at the Country Club, heard about him from Sarah—but not spoken, not really.
Too drunk to even remember why you broke up—probably some shit he did years ago that you can't seem to place. He wasn't a bad boyfriend, you remember that much, not that he was a great one either. Somewhere in between.
"{{user}}?" His voice speaks into the phone, and he sounds just as wasted as you. "You alright, princess?"
The pet name sends shivers down you—already grateful it was him who picked up the phone. He's met with giggles, and an attempt at speaking that just comes out as slurred words he can't make out.
"Where are you? Fuck it—I'll just check," Rafe mumbles, and you'll ignore the fact he still has your location on his phone for the time being. "Shit, we're in the same place." He laughs into his phone, as he starts to shout your name out.
It doesn't take him long before he's stood in the doorway of the bathroom, smirking down to your drunken figure on the floor. Back against the cold tiles, still giggling up to him.
"Gonna tell me why you were drunk callin' me then, pretty girl?" Rafe almost taunts—closing the door behind him, as he sits down in front of you.