underwater || outer banks- jj maybank

twenty-six - morning after

twenty-six - morning after

Layla was slightly relieved to realize she still had her underwear on, but everything after the fifth shot was sort of a blur. She recalled sticking by Rafe's side for the night.

She managed to find her way out of the dark, cool bedroom. She was unsure of where her belongings or clothing was.

Once she found the staircase, she grabbed the rail and led her way down it. She spotted Rafe in the kitchen, the glancing over at her as he placed his phone down on the counter.

He called out to get her. "Well, good morning. I'm surprised you aren't throwing your brains up," Rafe admitted, gesturing to the chair that was pulled out slightly from the island. She walked over to it, running a finger through her hair. She was out of it and overall confused. "Did you sleep well?"

She felt as though she was still high. "Um, yeah."

"Are you okay?" he questioned the girl who had just sat down.

"Yeah, I, uh, just...I can't believe we-"

"Okay, as much as we both wanted to, we were both way to fucked up. Especially you."

A look of confusion landed on Layla's face and she lifted her head out from her palms, but kept her elbows placed on the counter. She glanced down at her outfit to confirm the fact that the shirt she wore did not belong to her.

  "Why did I wake up in your bed?"

Rafe let out a laugh, crossing his arms and leaning back against the dishwasher. Layla was placed across the island from him. "What sort of asshole do you think I am?" He shook his head. "What, did you think I was gonna make you drive home? Go home to your grandmother being more crossed than I've ever seen anyone in this house?"

Layla's cheeks just sort of heated up as she avoided eye contact. She was, however, very relieved.

"Besides, you sort of insisted on coming up to my room with me. And I wasn't going to put you on the floor."

"I am so sorry-" Layla exclaimed, a touch of humor present in her tone. She was mostly in disbelief at her actions.

Rafe laughed, waving his hand. "You don't come to these parties to stay sober." He then referenced the counter. "I did, make us breakfast, though."

Layla's eyebrows pulled together. "You did?"

Rafe shrugged, a soft laugh coming from his chest. He grabbed the two dishes off of the counter, setting one on her side of the island where she was sitting. He placed the other in front of him, where he was standing on the opposite side. "Since you're a female, I guess you don't know this," he remarked, walking over to the fridge and pulling out two bottles of orange juice, "But typically, when a girl wakes up in your bed, it's courtesy to provide breakfast."

"Are those the rich people manners speaking?" Layla remarked, Rafe passing her an orange juice and a fork.

Rafe rolled his eyes. "No, rich people etiquette calls for you to be just as high as the person you're partying with." He cracked open his orange juice, placing the cap loosely on top. He then switched his with hers, opening the second as well. A small smile came to her lips at the kind gesture. "Drinking is sort of a wildcard. Goes both ways. Besides, I couldn't keep up with you after the sixth shot."

"So, last question." Layla looked down at her outfit yet again. "Why am I in your shirt?"

Rafe reflected on a memory for a moment, before shaking his head and laughing. "Well, you lost the pants in a strip version of truth or dare. After it was over, you didn't want to put them back on because they were 'too tight.'" Layla's cheeks got more red by the moment. "After I was ready to go to bed, you followed me upstairs and after I told you we were not hooking up, you went to my closet and pulled out the first t-shirt you saw and changed out of your top and bra."

"That is mortifying," Layla confessed. She glanced at Rafe, simply shaking her head at her own behavior.

Rafe shrugged. "Honestly, you were pretty entertaining. I did find your clothes though, and washed the scent of liquor off of them. They're in the dryer now."

She smiled. "Thank you, Rafe."

He simply nodded, beginning to eat his food.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Layla had arrived home to an empty house around one in the afternoon. She wore Rafe's t-shirt that he had told her to keep since she "looked better in it anyway."

She was in desperate need of a shower. Her phone was also in desperate need of life.

As soon as she got her phone on the charger, the device lit up revealing dozens of texts, calls, and mentions in social media posts.

The text from Kie that stuck out the most was "why tf are u doing shots with rafe cameron on sarah the snake's story ???? dude wth call me."

She elected to deal with it all after her hair was washed. She had also decided she was going to save Rafe's number.

While she didn't exactly have any romantic feelings toward the boy, he was so sweet to her. And after the way she was feeling after the incident with JJ, Rafe proved a decent guy wasn't too much to ask for. She was willing to overlook his drug abuse (the thought she realized could honestly apply to either boy).

In the present moment, though, as she changed out of her clothing and showered, she only had one thought; her friends were going to be pissed at her.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───