I groaned awake seeing the harsh light flood into my bedroom. I fluttered my eyes open and looked around the bland room realizing this isn't in fact my room.
I started to panic just slightly and whipped my head around the room, I didn't have a clue where the hell I was considering the plain decor gave nothing away.
Thankfully I was alone in the bed and I stripped the blanket over my body and thanked the heavens I was fully dressed. There were too many scenarios at boarding school where I was waking up half-dressed next to a complete stranger.
Unfortunately for me, I felt like death, my head was pounding and I felt like throwing up when I tried to move my body.
I had to figure out where I was though but more importantly, I needed aspirin or something to stop my pounding headache.
I stepped out of the bed wearing my dress from last night and I ran my fingers through my crazy hair trying to look a tad more presentable.
If my parents saw me in this state they'd ship me right back to California in an instance.
Being presentable was instilled in my brain from a young age, my father cares more about appearances than he actually does me. In my family, it's all about looking proper, poised, and presentable.
I looked the opposite of presentable right now wearing last night's clothes but I didn't care, god knows who's house I was in.
Memories from last night were quite hazy and were coming back in flashes but I was trying to puzzle the pieces that lead me to stay in a stranger's house.
Placing my hand on the doorknob I turned it slowly unaware of what I'll be walking into, I popped my head out and sighed in relief seeing it was only Topper's house - I made a mental note to say a special prayer tonight for the fact I didn't wake up in a serial killers house.
I moved out of the guest bedroom and walked straight to the bathroom to begin ransacking his cabinets in hopes of medicine.
When I came up empty I moved into the kitchen opening multiple cabinets and looking through them, I got up on tiptoes trying to open the higher cabinet. I was aware my dress was riding up my thighs but I was too hungover to care.
"Need a hand?" Rafe's voice behind me startled me but I kept my balance.
I turned my head over my shoulder seeing him in the same state I was in, his hair wasn't his usual slicked back style instead it was scruffy with a middle part and strands covering his forehead. He was wearing grey joggers and a t-shirt with a bored expression on his face.
"I got it" I huffed turning back to try to reach the upper shelf, I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of admitting to needing help.
I heard him walk over to me until he was standing directly behind me without saying a word. I could feel his hot breath on my neck causing my skin to involuntarily break out into goosebumps.
My own body was betraying me.
He leaned over me easily reaching up to the higher kitchen cabinets with my back almost pressed against his chest.
I guess being 6'4 must have its advantages.
Before I could move away from his body or even react to the position we were in he grabbed what he needed and stepped back away from me.
I eyed the bottle of aspirin in his right hand whilst he followed my glance and began throwing the bottle up in the air and catching it.
"You need this?" he mocked holding the bottle out in front of me whilst I gave him an unimpressed look.
YOU ARE READING
dirty little secrets → rc
Fanfic❛two damaged people, trying to heal each other and calling it love❜ Rafe Cameron wasn't just any other kook with minor drug habits and more money than he could count He was the boy who left her heartbroken and betrayed He was the reason she couldn't...