It had felt so right in the moment. Before you’d had time to think about what you’d done. What it meant, what it made you. In the moment it had just been you and him. None of the baggage, the issues or the reality of the outside world. Just you and him, together, rediscovering each other. That easy and familiar comfort that you always found in each other’s arms. And that fiery passion that had always burned, even when you weren’t together.

Now it just felt cheap and tawdry. When you think of what the two of you had just done, what you’d encouraged even sought out, you felt disgusted with yourself. It was a new feeling for you, and you didn’t like it. But you didn’t know how to get rid of it. It wasn’t like you could go back in time and change it. If you were honest, a part of you didn’t want to. Because you’d had him again, and he was always what you wanted and needed.

You just didn’t want him to look at you differently. To see you as some kind of temptress that had lured him into your bed. He’d always looked at you like you hung the moon. Even tonight when you’d looked in his eyes, you’d seen that love there. And if he didn’t look at you like that anymore, if he instead looked at you like he hated you, you know it would break your already damaged heart.

You glance up from your shaking hands when he steps out from your bathroom. You’re still seated on the edge of your bed, in the scene of the crime. The rumpled sheets behind you scream at you. You offer him a small smile, tears sting at the back of your eyes. You’d never not known what to say to him before, but you can’t think of a single word that will help.

Rafe can see the way your smile doesn’t meet you eyes, he can see the unshed tears that are threatening to fall, and it’s a reminder that tonight wasn’t just going to hurt Sofia, it was also hurting you. He was the one with the girlfriend, and he could try to lie to himself and say that hooking up with you didn’t mean anything, but he knew it had. It meant everything. And as much as he might feel guilt, he couldn’t view it as wrong. He knew he was a cheater, that even before tonight he’d been an asshole to Sofia, but he couldn’t help that part of him that would always want you.

“Hey” he comes towards you, kneeling in front of you and taking your chin in one of his large, calloused hands. “Don’t cry. Please, don’t cry baby” the familiar nickname slips out before he can stop himself. His grip on your chin tightens as he looks into those sad, green eyes of yours, and he tries to think of anything he can say to take away that pain.