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lacedaffection · 2 days ago

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cw: mentions of alcohol.

YOU HATED RAFE CAMERON, that was well-known fact around outer banks.

he was just as spoiled as a fratboy can be with that smug, self-distructive rich boy you sworn to stay away since you moved to outer banks. he teased, he pushed your buttons everytime he saw you and that famous smirk was plastered on his face like he just won the damn olympics. from the moment you two met, he would turn every small conversation into a fight or to be more specific, a power game. the kind where you didn’t even realize you were playing until he was walking away, a victorious smirk on his annoyingly handsome face.

but that specific night, that stupid night? you made your biggest mistake by letting your guards down in front of him. like a rabbit finally giving up against the wolf.

the music was loud, the drinks were cheap as hell, and of course all your friends vanished, even though they promised that they will take care of you if you drink too much. but instead, they left you alone, dancing on some makeshift outdoor bar like a stripper. your laugh was wild while your limbs were loose and your head was dizzy but in a funny way.

you didn’t even notice rafe watching you from the corner of the party, almost like hiding in the shadows. not until your ankle twisted mid-step and the whole world tilted beneath you. fuck.

then suddenly, there were hands — more specifically rafe cameron’s hands — steadying you, holding you like he was almost worried you’ll faceplant the concrete beneath you.

you blinked up at him, disoriented, head still dizzy from the cheap bear and tequila you drunk one hour ago.

“you’re goint to fall, dumbass.” he said, but suprisingly his voice wasn’t teasing or cruel. instead, it was … tired. maybe tired of watching you dancing and falling like it didn’t care if you hit the ground.

you wanted to snap back, like maybe that he could go to hell, or that you don’t need help, especially not his. but the world tilted again and you could feel your stomach rolling.

“shit.” he muttered, catching you properly this time. “you’re wasted.”

you tried to deny it, maybe he’ll let you back to dance. you wanted to do a lot of things before the party would end, but suddenly your feet gave up, head throbbing with every small heartbeat.

he didn’t ask anything, didn’t say anything. he just lifted you up without any care in the world, as if you weighed nothing at all.

“put me down.” you slurred, but your words didn’t make any sense as you spoke up.

“no.” he just said simply.

“you don’t even like me, rafe.” you mumbled into his neck. his skin felt warm, he smelled like cigarettes and something really unique but expensive. “this isn’t your thing. you’re not a nice guy.”

“no.” he agreed softly. “i’m not.”

you weren’t sure when did he started the car. you only remembered the sound of his car’s engine rumbling and trough your blurry vision you could see the lights outside from the window as your head was resting against the seat.

somewhere in your haze, your fingers found something soft, like a safety blanket. his hoodie.

you woke up to the smell of something — something familiar, and the faint noise that an old fan made as you stared at the ceiling. rafe’s room.

you recognized it from some long-forgotten high school party. nothing’s changed ever since that party. still dark wood and dark colors, cold in a way that money made things.

you sat up immediately — maybe even too fast. pain slammed into your skull like a wawe.

“easy.”

you turned around. rafe was casually standing in the doorway, wearing a grey swearpants and a random streched out t-shirt. he held a glass of water with painkillers in his hand. he looked more normal than you’ve ever seen him. less like the smug rich boy you were used to. still unfairly handsome, but real.

you slowly took the water from him, mostly because your throat felt like the sahara.

“you undressed me?” you asked sharply, looking down at the almost same-looking t-shirt he was currently wearing. you were basically swimming in the t-shirt.

he raised an eyebrow. “relax. that’s mine and i gave you it because you threw up on your own clothes. and don’t worry, i turned around while you changed.”

that made your stomach twist than the whole hangover itself.

“thanks.” you said, not sounding too strong at that moment. it tasted weird on your tongue. gratitude and rafe cameron didn’t mix, it didn’t march well.

he shrugged and leaned against the door as he crossed his muscular arms.

“so.” you started. “what? you’re my guardian angel now?”

he laughed once. “hardly. but even i’m not that asshole to leave you passed out on a bar table, waiting for someone creppy to drag you off.”

you felt your face heating up. “i didn’t ask you to babysit me. to be more specific, i didn’t even ask you for anything at all.”

“no.” he said. “you didn’t. but i did it anyway.”

silence filled the air and it sat between you like a damn challenge, daring either of you to admit what neither of you would say out loud.

a/n: hi guys! this is my first ever work here. i hope you guys liked it as much as i did with the writing process. have a good day. smooch (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .

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