This is quite a nice night. You and Rafayel can barely walk properly inside the house, as your lover leans his nose into your neck while murmuring and humming. His arm wraps around your waist to keep balance as you guide him to the sofa in the living room.

“You smell so good, love.” He laughs. “Mine, my love.” Rafayel never calls you that, he prefers to call you by your name. It never mattered, just the soft tone he used when he called you was enough.

It was supposed to be a chill night with a couple of drinks at that fancy hotel restaurant to celebrate your friend’s birthday, but it seems like your soon to be husband can’t take alcohol as much as he wants to pretend that he can handle it. It’s funny, every time he gets drunk like that. He can act all childish and clingy at the same time.