When the call had come, you hadn’t wanted to answer it. Your head screamed at you not to, but your heart- your stubborn, stupid heart- begged you to answer it. And your heart won it, it always did when it came to Rafe. And it had only gotten worse from there, you’d agreed to him coming over. All the very real reasons why that was a bad idea, flew out the window when you’d heard the slight vulnerability in his voice.

Because as much as you told yourself that you didn’t miss him, that was probably the biggest lie you’d ever told. Of course you missed him. You always missed him. Even when the two of you were together, you’d find yourself longing to see him and touch him after just twenty four hours apart. It was like a part of you called out to him, like you were only ever whole when he was around.

When you hear the knock on the door, you give yourself a pep talk. “This is just a friendly visit. Exes can be friends. Do not touch him. You can do this” You nod, and tug self consciously on the oversized t-shirt you were wearing, causing it to slightly fall off of your shoulder. You can do this, you remind yourself as your hand rests on the door handle.

By the time Rafe arrives at your door, he’d had a quick cold shower and a shit ton of coffee to sober himself up. But he probably hadn’t really needed it, the adrenaline from you agreeing to see him, had very quickly overrode his system. As he waits for you to answer the door, he realizes that he’s nervous. This is a situation where he can’t predict the outcome. When the door swings open, and you softly say hi, he knows he’s in trouble. Damn, he had missed you. He almost has to catch his breath at the sight of you.

“I like the buzz cut” you say, as he closes the door and enters the house, neither of you breaking eye contact.

He can’t help the smirk that tugs at his lips, your words making something hot and possessive churn in his gut. He liked when you stared at him, when his eyes held your gaze. He liked it even more now because it hinted at the possibility that you’d missed him too. He moves closer to you, his eyes roaming over your features.

“You look beautiful. But this isn’t your usual style.” He comments, his eyes flickering down to land on the oversized t-shirt. He watches as you tug self consciously at the hem, as the moment causes it to fall further off your shoulder, revealing more of your smooth, tanned skin to him.

“It’s big on you” he comments, his voice hoarse. Why was he still talking about the stupid t-shirt. His gaze roams over you and he wants nothing more than to touch you.