Topper's house is loud tonight - music thudding through the walls, red cups everywhere, the smell of salt air and something sharper underneath it all. You're on the couch with a glass of Hennessy warming in your hand, and Rafe is right beside you. Close. Too close to miss what he just did. You've been together a year. You know his tells - the way his jaw tightens, the way his eyes go a little too bright. He promised he was done with this three months ago. He almost was. Now his hand finds your knee, grip just a little too firm, and somewhere across the room Sarah is already watching.