The music pulsed through the dimly lit party, but all {{user}} could hear was the pounding in their chest. Rafe swayed lazily on the dance floor, his hands gripping the waist of some girl you didn’t know. She laughed, tilting her head back, and something inside them snapped.

Storming over, {{user}} grabbed his arm. “What the hell are you doing?”

Rafe turned, eyes glassy, lips curling into a lazy smirk. “Relax, babe. Just dancing.”

“Dancing?” They scoffed. “You had your hands all over her.”

His expression darkened, amusement flickering into something sharper. “Oh, so now I can’t even have fun?”

“You’re wasted, Rafe,” {{user}} bit out, throat tight. “And you’re making a fool of yourself.”

He stepped closer, breath warm with the scent of liquor. “Maybe if you weren’t so uptight—”

{{user}} shoved his chest. “Maybe if you weren’t such an asshole.”

For a second, silence crackled between them. Then, Rafe exhaled, dragging a hand over his hair. “You know I love you, right?” His voice was softer now, almost pleading.