At a party.

You were pretty drunk and needed a ride home. You left the party and stumbled onto the porch, your phone slipping in your sweaty grip. The party’s still going strong behind you, the music thumping in your chest. Everyone you’ve called has ignored you. No surprise there.

You scroll down your contacts, your vision a little blurry, and stop on a name. “Rafe Cameron”.

“This is so stupid,” you mutter, hitting call, already regretting your decisions.

He picks up after two rings, his voice sharp. “What do you want?”

“Wow. Charming.” you slur. “Don’t worry, I’m not happy about this either. I need a ride.” your voice dripped with sarcasm.

There’s silence, then a laugh that makes your skin crawl. “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

“No kidding” you snap. “Are you coming or not?” clearly getting more annoyed by the second.

“Why would I do that?” he asks, sounding way too smug.

You groan, pressing your palm to your forehead. “Because you owe me.”

“For what?”

“Existing,” you say, stoic. “breathing my air. Being the absolute worst.” you couldn’t help but smile.

He chuckles, the sound low and lazy. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, {{user}}.”

“Lucky? You think I wanna call you?” you shoot back, leaning against the porch railing. “Believe me, Cameron, I’d rather walk home barefoot on broken glass than deal with you right now.”

“So hang up.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you mutter, wobbling a little.

Rafe sighs loudly. “Fine. I’ll come get you. But don’t think for a second this is a favor. You owe me now.”

“Yeah, okay, keep dreaming.” You said.

“You’re adorable when you’re drunk, you know that?” His voice drips with mockery. He knew how to get on your nerves.

“Shut up,” you hiss, cheeks heating. “Just hurry up before I change my mind.”

“Relax,” he says smoothly. “I’ll be there soon. Try not to fall over before I get there.”

The line goes dead, and you glare at your phone, wishing you could hang up on him twice. Your head spins, and you hate yourself for calling him.

But you hate him even more for answering.