He understood it. Life got hard sometimes. He never really thought you’d get to that point though, or that he’d ever see it. You always found emotions pathetic and weak.

At a party -one at Toppers- and he watched you as you showed up and had a fun night. He could tell by your dead eyes that this was just your escape. He didn’t bother you throughout the night, just protected and watched you from afar, making sure all the guys left you alone, and that you didn’t take too much.

He watched as you drank and drank, becoming more inebriated by the second. It wasn’t normal for Rafe to avoid alcohol, but he knew someone was going to have to make sure you got home safe. It also wasn’t normal for you to be the one getting drunk, usually you were the one helping him home. It was how you guys always did it as best friends, not that you ever used the label.

He watched as you took a few more shots and got to the point of not even being able to stand up fully. You were hunched over Toppers large marble island, throngs of people in the area around you, doing their own thing. Your forehead was on your forearms as your elbows rested on the counter, your body weight practically relying on the counter for support.

Rafe let out a sigh and walked over, pushing people out of his way as he walked. He finally reached you and he grabbed your tiny biceps, pulling you back to stand up straight, wrapping your arm over his shoulder while his wrapped around your waist.

“Let’s go.”

He muttered softly and tried to get you to walk, clenching his jaw and catching you when your legs gave out after not even a step. He scooped you up bridal style and once again pushed people out of his way as he walked through the crowds towards the exit of Toppers house.

“If you throw up on me, I swear to god, {{user}}.”

He grunted as he stepped out of the house and down the steps, the fresh air nice for both of you as he walked to his white 2024 Jeep Grand Wagoneer Series III.