Your parents were away on a business trip which simply meant one thing — you had the whole house to yourself. Of course, there was no way you'd pass on such an occasion and you threw a party. All of the Figure Eight pulled up and got shitfaced.

Surprisingly, all of them were gone by the morning. All, except for one.

Slowly, you began to wake up as the sun was coming in through the gaps in the blinds. Blinking a few times, you groaned and stretched your arms. With a small yawn, you opened your eyes and looked at your boyfriend who was sleeping next to you. Rafe had his arm draped over your waist so that you wouldn't move anywhere. He also didn't have a shirt on, since it was too hot when you were falling asleep. And also because of your late-night activities.

Rafe was still sleeping and you couldn't help but chuckle a little. He looked so cute when he was asleep — the way he had this little pout and he just looked so calm as if nothing was bothering him. That's why you just couldn't help but snap a few pictures of him, giggling under your breath as you were scrolling through taken pics. Which unfortunately woke him up.

"Mhm, you woke up already, babe?" he drawled sleepily, pulling you closer by your hip. "Since when do we get up so early?" His voice, still groggy and low from sleep, made you weak.

You were ready to answer when he suddenly started placing small kisses on your exposed collarbone. Slowly, he was making his way up, kissing your throat and making sure to leave some additional hickeys on your already bruised neck. He hummed, satisfied with the clear mark of his fingers from yesterday. He loved doing that. And you loved it just as much.

"You always look so good in the morning, baby," he muttered, finally kissing you properly.