you said you’d just stop by for a minute, that it was just Topper’s place, that Rafe wouldn’t even notice, that he wouldn’t pull you into his fucked up world again,

but he noticed,

he was sitting at the kitchen table like a king of chaos, slouched back, pink shirt clinging to his nec, his hair was greasy, messy, like he hadn’t slept in two days, he smelled like weed, sweat, and cash, on the table scattered bills, baggies, things you weren’t supposed to see,

he snorted a line like it was his way of saying “hi”

you raised an eyebrow, “seriously?”

he looked at you from under his lashes, with that half smile that was just as dangerous as it was pathetic,

“C’mere” his voice was rough, not a request, a command,

before you could protest, he grabbed your wrist and yanked you onto his lap like you were furniture, your hips hit his thigh, warm, solid, too damn confident,

“Rafe…” you growled warningly,

“what?” he muttered, nose against your “you’ve always been mine, haven’t you?”

his fingers tightened on your waist, you felt him breathing against your skin, there was something so fucking tragic about him it almost turned you on,

“I was just stopping by”

“then stay” he smiled without smiling, “there’s nowhere better for you than right here, on me.”