•STOCKHOLM SYNDROME• [obx3]

Chapter 13: Champane showers

Rafe groans, he rolls over and checks the red lit digital clock. 'Fuckkkkk', he pulls back the soft white comforter and slips out of bed, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

He grabs his towel and heads to the bathroom. But Rafe pauses in front of the mirror. He stares at his reflection, his fingers roam over the deep purple bruise on his cheekbone. He jerks his fingers away.

That awful feeling in his throat uprises. It's not because of some stupid scratch, but who had done it.

It's my fault. I let Sarah get away. Why can't I just do something goddamn right for once? I'm not good enough. No wonder Dad likes Sarah more, I should just ...

Rafe holds his head in hands and paces around, trying to escape his thoughts. But no matter what he does, he can't.

Rafe strides out of the bathroom, he heads over to the mini fridge in the corner of his room. He unhesitatingly swings it open and takes a bottle of champagne, stares at it then takes a second one before shutting the door and heading back into the bathroom.

He pops the bottle, some of it pours out onto the bathroom floor but he's quick to press his lips against it. He tips the bottle back and chugs half the bottle before wiping the back of his wrist with a smile.

He strips down and turns on the water. He tests it with his hand, wanting nothing to do with that cold shit. Once the streams strong enough to fog up the glass, he steps in.

For a while he stares blankly at the shower head. Feeling the water flood over him like some kind of warm embrace. He shuts his eyes, tilting his head up. The water trickles down his skin, he likes the way it caresses him. He likes the way he's forced to hold he breath as it trickles over his lips and nose. He likes that small feeling of control.

He steps from the water momentarily to chug the last of the bottle. Then he lathers up soap and combs it through his hair. Once it's rinsed out, Rafe scurrys over to the second bottle. He pops it and doesn't just hold it to his lips while it erupts but he tips it back, focusing it to go down his throat quicker.

He goes back and forth between washing himself and drinking until he decides on just bringing the bottle into the shower with him. He swigs at it over and over, then he laughs pouring the remainder over the top of his head.

Rafe chuckles before cursing realising he stenches of alcohol and that he's basically just undone his entire shower routine. He gently lowers the empty bottle to the ground then hurriedly goes over his body with another layer of soap.

Finally, he stumbles out of the shower and wraps a towel around himself. The room begins to spin. He smiles childishly.

—-
Am I listening to Champagne showers by LMFAO while writing this maybe...

Anyways cheers to all my readers thanks for hanging in there, I hope you're enjoying it.

Now the shows really about to hit the road