The shot Emma holds out in front of you seems to be the only thing promising to dull the ache in your chest. It’s graduation day; specifically, morning, and you’re already dressed, makeup on, hair done. Ethan lounges against the countertop with his own shot glass, and Christian stands directly beside him with one as well. You accept the shot and cheer with the group, plastering a smile on your face for their sakes as you down it. 

UNC, in all their great wisdom, scheduled your graduation on a Thursday. Rafe, ever so apologetic and regretful, couldn’t take two full days from work, given that May is their busiest time of the year. He’d promised to watch the livestream, to call you every hour before you go and every hour after, and apologized profusely over multiple days. You’d told him it was okay; that it wasn’t even that big of a deal and you were going to be busy anyway. 

That, you realize, was a lie. You want him here more than anything in the world; to see you in your white dress that you’d agonized over and watch you walk across that stage to receive the thing you’ve worked toward for the last four years. 

Emma nudges you with her elbow, drawing you out of your silent pity party. You give her a forced smile, then hold your shot glass out for her to refill. 

“Nope,” she mutters, “You’re a lightweight. Can’t have you falling over on that stage.”

“Em,” you press, “He’s not here. Give me another.”

You say it quietly, keeping it from Ethan and Christian. When they had come in, surprised not to see Rafe, they gave you the look. The one that silently questions if the two of you were through, and that’s why he’s not here. Quickly, you’d defended Rafe’s absence and they’d accepted the reasoning, but their expressions still hold up in your head. 

“Y/N, maybe–”

“Emma,” you groan, “I swear–”

“Fine,” she shrugs, “Fine. I’ll just laugh when you fall.”

You smile and shake your head at her, downing the shot quickly. You watch as Emma checks her phone, firing off two texts and locking it before you can strain your neck to see who she’s texting. Ethan’s here, so is Chris, and so are you. 

“Who–”

“Caroline,” she says quickly, shoving her phone away, “She wants to meet up for drinks later.”

You swallow, “Oh. That will be fun.”

Fun for Emma. Not for you. Caroline hadn’t so much as looked your way ever since she hit on Rafe and he couldn’t have acted less interested, and suddenly, the invitation she used to extend out to you seemed to disappear. Not that you minded, but the thought of Emma going out tonight and leaving you here alone makes your chest grow even heavier. 

“Y/N…” she trails off, obviously not sure what to say. 

“Em, it’s fine. It’s graduation day. You deserve to celebrate,” you give her a smile that almost feels genuine, “We all do.”

She just nods slowly, her eyes wide with an emotion you can’t seem to place. Ethan steps over to her before you two can discuss it any further, and when Christian calls out for your attention, you give it to him.

Just as you grow comfortable in your conversation with him, being drunk enough to ramble without thinking much about what you’re saying, there’s a knock at your front door. You look over at Emma and furrow your eyebrows, but she just shrugs and points to it. 

“You get it,” she says, pulling Ethan closer to her. 

“Why should I get it?” you argue, blinking rapidly when you notice how unsteady you are. 

“Shit, Y/N, I told you not to drink–”

The knock sounds again, and more so out of irritation for the consistent knocking than curiosity about who it is, you rush to the door. You grab the wall for support, yanking on the door handle. Ready to tell off whoever is on the other side, you feel your knees buckle when you see him.

The sight of Rafe Cameron in a dress shirt and tie, holding a bouquet of peonies and sporting a wide grin is enough to bring tears to your eyes.

He chuckles as he takes you in, but barely has time to step forward before you dive onto him. Your legs hook around his waist and he grabs ahold of you instinctually, gripping your waist like his life depends on it. 

“Honey–” he starts, but you stop him when you start to cry into his neck.

“You said—” you practically whine, “You said you couldn’t make it.”

He laughs, shifting his head so he can press a kiss to your now wet cheek. 

“You didn’t really think I’d miss your graduation, did you?” 

Your response is only to let out a cry against his neck, squirming deeper into him. Wanting to feel every inch to ensure he’s real, he’s here, and he’s yours. 

You hear Emma giggle from the doorway, but you ignore her. After a minute, Rafe gently sets you down and lets you get your bearings before pulling you into him by your waist, letting your hands link around his neck. 

“You okay?” he asks, smirk threatening his lips. 

You nod, “I just– I–”

Rafe’s eyebrows furrow, and when he steals a suspecting glance at Emma, she speaks. 

“She’s a little drunk,” Emma murmurs. 

Rafe laughs, “Is that true, honey?”

“No,” you defend, your body heating up, “I just missed my boyfriend.”

Rafe laughs again, and you swear the sound makes your heart beat faster. He leans down and kisses the top of your head twice, making you smile. 

“He missed you, too,” he says quietly, “Let’s go inside.”

Emma takes the flowers from Rafe’s hand and hurries off to the kitchen to put them in a vase while you cling to Rafe’s side, unwilling and unable to peel away. He just laughs and rubs your back, letting you do whatever it is you need to. 

He greets Ethan and Christian in the kitchen, making small talk with them while glancing down at you every few seconds. When you rest your chin on his sternum and smile up at him, he chuckles and leans down to give you a kiss. 

“Too short,” you complain when he pulls back. 

He smiles, “I’m gonna make you some coffee, okay?”

You just nod, letting him guide you to the coffee maker on the opposite counter. While he pours the coffee grounds in, you pull yourself up on the counter and watch him as he works. Once the machine starts to whir, he steps over to you, settling between your legs. 

“Can’t believe you’re here,” you whisper, your nails scratching the back of his neck.

“Can’t believe you’re drunk,” he counters, “I’m sorry you thought I wasn’t coming. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“You certainly surprised me,” you mumble, pulling him closer by his collar, “Kiss me?”

“Mhm,” he hums. 

His lips meet yours and you feel calmer, you feel like you’re home. His hands rest on the tops of your thighs and he laughs into your mouth when you pull him in further and further, until you’re visibly ready to undress him in the middle of the kitchen. 

“Y/N, damn!” Emma teases. 

You giggle and drop your grip on him, but you don’t look away. You’re too lost in the sea of blue and in the alcohol coursing through your veins. Rafe grins and pecks your lips one more time, then steps away to get your coffee. 

Emma, Ethan, and Christian leave the two of you alone — much to Emma’s demand, you’re sure — and head into the living room.Rafe glances between you and the coffee every few seconds, and when he watches you happily swinging your feet and getting lost in your own head as you think about him being here. 

“I brought you a present,” Rafe says quietly, carrying over a mug full of coffee with the perfect amount of cream mixed in for you. 

Your eyes widen, “A present?”

He laughs as you take the mug from him and sip. 

“Yes, honey, a present,” he smiles, “Do you want it now, or—”

“Yes!”

He chuckles, “Wait here.”

You grin and clutch your mug tightly while he steps over to his bag, which was happily abandoned in the doorway of your apartment when you pulled him inside. He pulls out a present wrapped in brown paper, with a black bow tied around it in string. You smile; the wrapping itself reminds you so much of Rafe already. 

When he returns to his spot in front of you, he takes his time examining your face. Your drunken – but sobering — eyes, your tipsy smile, and the ever so little scrunch in your nose. 

“I hope you like it,” he says, holding up the wrapped present. “There’s a letter, too, but I’m gonna wait ‘til you’ve sobered up to give you that.”

“Rafe,” you pout, wanting the letter more than anything. 

In response, he pushes the present closer, “Open.”

You do as he instructs and tug on the loosely tied bow, watching it fall apart in your hands. Rafe scoffs at your slow speed, which makes you look up at him and giggle. 

“I love your wrapping,” you giggle. 

“Thank you, slowpoke,” he rolls his eyes playfully. 

You tear the paper bit by bit, pulling it back until you recognize exactly what is in the package. 

“Your copy of Pride and Prejudice?”

It’s worn; the right corner of the cover is creased, and you remember how you drew a tiny R on the left side with a heart. You pull it from the wrapping completely as he hums, feeling your heart ache in your chest at the sight of the book that brought the two of you together. 

“Yeah, I, uh, I reread it. And I wrote little notes underneath my old ones for you. I wanted to show you how having you in my life has changed my perspective. On everything.”

Your eyes well up with tears the moment you process his words, and it’s as if the shots melt away. A perfect pout forms on your lips as you open it and flip through, finding his old notes that you recognize, along with new ones in a different colored pen. 

“Oh, my God,” you whisper, “Rafe, this is such a great present. I can’t wait to read it all. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

He grins when you pull him in by his tie and begin to press kisses onto his cheeks and jawline. You set the book down on the counter so you can feel him with both hands, silently letting him know that he’s going to have to be the one to stop you — and only if he wants. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, guiding you back with a gentle hand on your cheek so he can look you in the eye, “I hope you understand that I mean that. I was a completely different person before you. When you came into my life, with your adjectives and your books and your perfect little pout, I knew I was completely and totally screwed. I love you, and I’m so proud of you.”

“Rafe,” you whine, and when a tear slips, he brushes it away immediately, “Thank you. I love you so much.”

“I hope so,” he replies smugly, then presses a kiss to your forehead, “Drink your coffee.”

You do as instructed and pick the mug back up, smiling when the book catches your eye. It’s the perfect present to represent your relationship with Rafe; how the two of you started, where you are now, and everything in between. 

“If I finish the mug, can I have my letter?” you ask, adding your pout before saying, “Pretty please?”

You watch as he visibly caves. His shoulders fall and his eyes narrow slightly, but he nods. 

“Yes,” he sighs. 

“Thank you,” you grin and take a long sip, proving to him that you’re dedicated. 

He stands with you as you drink your coffee, and the buzz that took only a few minutes to gain, takes only a few sips of coffee to lose. 

The second you show him your empty mug and raise your brow suggestively, his chest deflates with an exhale, and he steps back over to his bag. 

You steal a few kisses from him as the letter exchanges hands, and when you finally hold it in your grasp, he swallows. 

“I’m gonna step out,” he nods toward the back door, pulling the cigarettes from his pocket, “Take your time.”

You attempt to speak, to ask him about it, but he kisses you again and steps away before you can get your thoughts in order. Only when you hear Emma erupt in cheers as Rafe steps through the living room do you flip the envelope over and pull the pages from it. 

Y/N,

My girl. My honey. 

I am so beyond proud of you. Today and every day. I can’t even believe that we’ve been together long enough to have reached this point. I mean, I can, but in a larger sense, I can’t. Do you know what this means, though? Selfishly, I keep reminding myself that this means you’re one step closer to moving in with me. I know that’s not what’s on your mind right now, but it’s the only thing on mine. We’ve done our version of long distance for long enough. I want you all to myself, every day, forever. 

That being said, I’ve been thinking about what’s going to happen beyond the summer. How am I supposed to have you, and then let you go again? 

I’ve decided that I’m not willing to do that. That as much as I love you, and as much as I want to be with you in any capacity that I can, I want to see your smile every day. I want to hear your laugh, and feel your kisses, and end every single day with you in my bed. Our bed. 

So, here’s my proposal. You can say no. But, I pray that you don’t, because I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it. I want to go to grad school with you. Wherever you go, I want to move with you. I’ll find another job, I’ll do whatever I have to do. I want to be there for you when you study for big tests or have a shitty day or hate your professor. I want all of it. Will you let me come with you? I’ll grovel as much as you want. 

Anyway, this letter is supposed to be about you. Everything you’ve accomplished. You’re going to do amazing things in this world. You’ve already done amazing things to my world. I could not be prouder of you than I am. All of that work and stress is finally paying off, honey, and that’s all anyone can ask for. I can’t wait to see you walk across that stage and get your diploma. Thank you for letting me be a part of it. 

I love you so much. I could not be more grateful to have you in my life. You’re so beautiful. Come find me. I’m sure I need a kiss from you. 

Yours forever, 

Rafe 

Tears are pouring from your eyes before you even register their presence. For a while, you’ve known how much Rafe loves you. For a while, you’ve known that he is excited to have you moving in with him. However, this letter seems to solidify all of it to you. 

Without even giving it a second thought, you hop off of the counter and head out of the kitchen, only to be met with the three tipsy souls in the living room. 

Emma’s eyes immediately grow with concern when she sees your state, but then, her eyes fall to the letter. Immediately, she softens and smiles, then nods her head toward the balcony. 

“Rafe Cameron seemed anxious,” she murmurs, “Go get him.”

You smile and nod your head. Ethan catches your eye as he blatantly looks between the two of you, dumbfounded. 

“I never know what the fuck is going on around here,” he grunts. 

“That’s okay, sweetie,” Emma replies in a condescending voice, “At least you’re pretty.”

You laugh and then step away from them, toward the sliding door. You take a moment to observe him before you open it. His tense back, his hair — that you notice is freshly cut for the occasion — and the cigarette that rests between his fingers, looking only about halfway through, which is slow for him. 

You try to push the door open quietly, but he turns around, anyway. When he sees you, with the water under your eyes and your fingers still clutching the letter, he gives you a soft smile. He opens his mouth, and somehow, you know it’s to backtrack. To offer you a way out before you commit. You shake your head, which silences him. 

“Yes,” you blurt, “Yes, yes, yes. Come with me. I want you there.”

He lets out a relieved breath, and the grin that spreads across his face makes your heart skip a beat or two. He drops his cigarette without a care and then rushes over to you, taking you into his embrace and holding you right into his chest. 

“Oh, thank you,” he murmurs into your ear, “Honey, thank you. I want to be there for you.”

You smile and look up at him, silently begging for a kiss. He gives you one, then two, then three, and only stops when you giggle. 

“Rafe, our place is gonna be so cute,” you gush, “We’ll have to get a really big bookshelf, though, to fit both of our collections. And we could have a super organized kitchen. I’ve always wanted an organized kitchen, but Emma’s always scattering everything around, and—”

“Y/N,” Rafe laughs, stopping you, “You can put it all however you want. I’m there for you, not the bookshelf or the kitchen. Okay?”

“Okay,” you chuckle, “I’m so excited.”

“Me, too, honey.”

He holds you tight on the balcony where the two of you had your first real conversation, and he does it until Emma comes to the door and tells you that it’s time to go. You pout and allow your grip to tighten around him, unwilling to separate. 

“You need to go,” he tells you quietly, “Can’t be late to your own graduation.”

“Promise you’ll find me after?” 

His shoulders fall and he shakes his head, “Yes, honey. I promise.”

Reluctantly, you release him and step toward the back door. Just before you shove it further open and slip back through, you turn back and take him in. 

“What if I go to grad school all the way in California?”

He knows it’s a test; a ridiculous question. You’ve never expressed any interest in going out there for school, and he knows you’re not going to start now. 

“I’ll come with you,” he grins.

“What about Alaska?”

You bite down on your bottom lip to hide a smile as he starts over, towering above you and eyeing your mouth. 

“Anywhere.”

You open your mouth to reply, to dare him to kiss you, when Emma’s voice rings through the air once more. 

“Y/N! We have to go!”

“Find me after,” you say quickly to Rafe, then stand up on your tiptoes to peck his lips, “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” he replies, nodding inside. 

When you look back one last time, you watch Rafe begin to shake his head at your antics. Your lips tip up and you let the two words escape your lips, needing confirmation from him before you go. 

“You’re mine?”

He smiles, “I’m yours. Go.”

You nod happily and hurry to Emma, who holds her hand out to you and drags you out the front door, leaving only Rafe, Ethan, and Christian in your apartment. Immediately, Emma starts to gush about Ethan. When she sees the look on your face, however, the blissful, happy expression, she stops and smiles. The only person who cares about your happiness as much as Rafe is Emma, and she can tell that whatever was in that letter has changed your life. As much as today signifies separation between the two of you, it signals something greater for you, and that’s all Emma could ever ask for.