It wasn’t unusual for Rafe to be out so late. He’d gone to some frat party down the road, which you could still hear the music from down the road as you drifted to sleep, whilst you stayed home.

The one thing that was unusual tonight, however, was Rafe’s walking pattern. It sounds stupid, but Rafe’s steps are usually so steady and controlled, unlike tonight. You can hear him walk up to the bedroom door, his steps uneven, like he’s holding himself up. You feel him pad over to the bed, crouching down beside it and messily running his hands through your hair, causing your eyes to flutter open, “Hey, baby.” He slurs, the smile on his face lazy and sloppy.

“Mm, hello. How was the party?” You ask half-heartedly, much more interested in getting back to bed, your face nuzzling further into the pillow as he traces your face with his finger.

“Boring. Missed you so much, sweetheart. Missed your pretty face, you’re so pretty. Do y’know that, sweetie? So pretty. The most pretty.” He mumbles drunkenly, as he peppers kisses all over your face. You weren’t used to this level of affection from Rafe. He was usual cold and distant, an act of vulnerability or adoration was few and far between. That’s not to say he wasn’t affectionate, it just usually wasn’t so…soft.

“You look sleepy, baby. Did I wake you up? I’m sorry, missed you too much.”