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𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦(𝗦);
❝𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠!❞━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
word count; 2053
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As comfortable as Rafe's bed might be, as much as it may fill my nose with the mesmerizing smell of him, and as soft as the Italian silk sheets might feel rubbing against my bare legs, it's just not the same without him in it. Without his weight forming a crater, sinking me impossibly closer to him, the king-sized mattress just felt too big, too empty.
I could have joined him instead of residing in his spacious room alone but knowing my boyfriend, that would have led to lots of alone time for the two of us; which normally I would not complain about, but Wheezie was home tonight, and she had ears for anything that could get her siblings in trouble. Besides, I had showered earlier, at my house before Rafe had shown up at my door, wreaking of sweat and body odor. I loved him, but I did not love to smell him after he had been at the gym.
The soft background buzzing of running water cut off abruptly, pulling me from my thoughts and flooding me with excitement at the thought that I wouldn't be alone in his giant room anymore. Until the gap of time just kept growing, and growing, and my boyfriend showed no signs of showing himself anytime soon.
So, growing more and more curious, (and impatient), I dug my way out from the mountain I had crafted with his down comforter, and hopped off of his bed, the cold floor sending a shock through me as the pads of my feet made contact. I hurried towards the bathroom, already anticipating the humidity hidden inside. The silver knob was cold in my hand, but with a twist, it sent the wooden door swinging back, allowing a plume of steam to come rolling towards me.
Rafe stood propped against the marble counter of his bathroom, large hand scratching irritated at his neck, his gorgeously chiseled face plastered with a look of distaste as he studied the skin he was picking at. His face softened ever so slightly when he turned to me standing in the doorway, "Sorry I left ya' waitin' babe," He sighed, encasing my waist in his arms, "We can go to bed now."
"M'," I hummed, leaning into his warm skin, still filtered in water droplets from the shower, "Everything okay?"
Rafe found comfort in the crook of my neck where my shoulder ended, his unusually grown-out, stubble tickling at the sensitive skin as he spoke, "Just fine, come on, im tired."
I pulled him out from the fleshy cavern and held his face delicately in my hands, "What's up with you?"
"It's nothing y/n. Can we please just go to bed?" he implored, grabbing my wrists and attempting to rip them away from his face.
"Not until you talk to me," I bargained, folding my arms in front of me and watching as he stomped over to his bed like an angry toddler who had just been denied an ice cream.
He frustratedly collapsed onto the oversized mattress, stuffing his face into the pillows before letting out a chorus of incoherent grunts and groans.
"I don't speak difficult, hormonal, man-sized toddler." I chastised, clasping Rafe by the shoulder and arranging him to sit upright.
"My face is itchy," he grumbled.
I brought my hands to cup his cheeks, "Considering this is the most facial hair you've had since I've known you, I can see why."
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