the party at Figure Eight was like any other, loud, full of familiar faces and forgotten conversations, you were leaning against the bar, playing with the straw in your drink, the only pogue here because of your acquaintance with Rafe, you suddenly felt a familiar gaze on you,

he was sitting on the couch, a bottle in his hand and a lazy smile on his face, he didn't have to say anything, you knew he would approach you soon, and he did,

“I knew you’d come here, let’s get out of here” he threw in a low voice, leaning into your ear,

you didn’t ask where, you just went, you were sitting in his car, and the wind was blowing through the lowered windows, cooling your hot skin, Rafe was driving with one hand, the other nonchalantly resting on the gearbox, music was playing quietly in the background, but all you could hear was your own heartbeat,

it was quiet on the beach, you were lying on the hood of his car, looking at the dark sky, Rafe handed you a bottle, and your fingers brushed his hand,

“tomorrow you’ll go back to your world” he said suddenly,

you looked at him, there was something in his eyes that you didn’t want to analyze,

“don’t think about tomorrow” you whispered,

“but I don’t want you to pretend you don’t know me again” he said more irritated.