Drunk in love, that was all Rafe was right now.

Couple of beers, shot of whatever they had been of, party and the music blasting the speakers. All of that just to make someone go high as hell or drunk enough to not remember nothing the next morning. The thing was that that party was at Tanyhill, and Rafe was the one who had thrown it.

He found himself leaning in some couch of his house, while kooks danced and sang songs he didn’t even know which were. Drink in hand while his eyes drifted everywhere, analysing people and what their intention were. He didn’t even care if there was some pogue infiltrated in his own party.

He caught himself staring at a little silhouette, sitting on the edge of the pavement while their legs fell with an ease a touched the water of his own pool. He just wondered—no, he knew who that was.

He stood up from the couch, his drink all forgotten on the coffee table as he made his way towards the pool. Finally arriving, he made his way towards the person, not even looking at their face, knowing who exactly was.

He took one step towards you, standing still for a couple of seconds before he sat down on the floor, crossing his legs, as he stared the water first and then looked back to you.

He leaned and took your head gently, pulling you to kiss your cheek. Rafe was never the type of giving affection, less when you were his friend, but that didn’t matter today, at least. He was drunk, he had an excuse to forget everything the next day, even when he knew all too well he’d remember everything.