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memoirofasparklemuff1n · 13 hours ago

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killing me softly | extra

aftermath of the events at the open air event

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- C H . 1 9 | C H . 2 0 ->

✿ C O N T E N T W A R N I N G ✿ swearing, suggestive themes and implications, sexual jokes, pic of reader not depicting her appearance just the vibes, rafe ovulating again, jealous!rafe, kinda angsty but mostly fluff and giggles, honestly this doesn't really push the plot forward so it's just them being them, description of bruise, reader drinking a little

✿ W O R D C O U N T ✿ max use of images + 7k written story

✿ A / N ✿ well, i guess this actually counts as a chapter bc it's basically just a continuation of the main story and long af for an extra, but, yeah, no, actually no clue why i called this an extra lmao. also i kinda rushed the ending but guess it will do. ok, talking too much again, so, ANYWAY, enjoy, and lmk what you think <33

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// PLEASE READ CH. 19 BEFOREHAND OTHERWISE THIS WON’T MAKE ANY SENSE

// STRONGLY RECOMMEND READING THIS BEFORE CONTINUING WITH THE MAIN STORY, AS IT ADDS A LOT TO THEIR DYNAMIC

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W E E K O N E // S U N D A Y 9 : 5 5 P M

“Kinda toxic,” you said with a chuckle as you watched Rafe switch off your phone and place it on the little side-shelf on his side of the lounge bed.

Rafe let out an amused scoff as he turned back to you, catching the teasing glint in your eyes. “These rats? Yeah. Being nosy as fuck, spamming your phone.”

Like, seriously. He’d only caught a glimpse of your screen—something about someone shrieking (which, yeah, someone actually had)—and then freaking Kie dared to ask if you were okay?

What the fuck.

Did they think he’d beat you up in the parking lot or some shit? Especially Kie saying that, of all people. Like, come on. She should know best, he at least could keep his damn hands in check during arguments.

Fuck her. Especially for sending that dumbass chicken or whatever-the-fuck creature pic directed at him that looked like one of yours. (Which, others using those pics with you? Yeah, nah. That didn’t sit right with him at all.)

Anyway. Fuck those other clucking little nosy rats too. Fucking great that those were your friends now. And dragging Molly, the only tolerable girl after you, into Sarah’s shitty-ass group? Shit was getting worse by the day.

“They’re just worried,” you said, amused, a small smile tugging at your perfectly shaped lips. “Pretty sure also about you.”

Shit. Rafe was staring again.

His eyes flicked back up to yours, and he rolled them with a small nod. “Yeah, sure. The only thing they care about is squeezing some gossip out of you. Bet all the previous messages were about me.”

Just imagining how they'd probably flood you with questions later: Why Rafe had left. What you two had talked about. Why he'd punched Topper. Blah blah blah.

Typical nosy girl bullshit.

And Rafe swore to God, he really hoped none of those stupid little mind-minions of yours were buying into that crap. He didn’t need anyone knowing what kind of shit he was caught up in now. Especially not Princess Sarah.

Fuck. If she found out, she’d go straight to Dad and—

“Probably, yeah,” you chuckled, and Rafe felt a crease forming between his brows. “But I’m not gonna share anything you don’t want me to.”

Huh.

He hadn’t expected that. He was used to girls rushing to their friends the second they had a crumb of “tea to spill” or whatever the hell you girls called it. But you claiming not do so...

He raised a brow, fingers absently twisting the little key charm on your bracelet. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, of course,” you replied, sounding genuine. “I mean, personally, if it were me, I’d probably at least tell Topper and Kelce. They are your best friends after all, and they both know Ruthie better than either of us. Plus, I’d say they’d definitely want to help you out with this mess.”

You pressed your lips together for a moment before continuing. “But I totally get it if that's something you’d rather keep to yourself. And obviously I’m gonna respect that.”

Rafe grimaced.

Tell Topper and Kelce? Sure, he’d probably rant to Kelce about this fucked-up situation—Kelce always listened, and when it came down to it, the dude knew how to shut the fuck up when asked. But Topper?

It was bad enough he’d agreed to tell that fucker he didn’t deserve the punch in the face (even though, let’s be honest, clean hit), and now he was supposed to reward him with some kind of answer?

Hell no. Topper had been hanging out with that bitch Ruthie way too much lately. Couldn’t be trusted even if he claimed he didn’t know what was going on.

“You don’t agree.” Your soft voice pulled him back and he stopped fidgeting with the bracelet.

Rafe furrowed his brows, rubbing his jaw. “Topper’s a backstabber. Don’t give a shit if he’s involved or not. He still hung out with that bitch.”

He almost laughed at your frown. You looked like an angry cat.

You tapped his chest lightly, shifting upward and—Fuck.

He could feel your boobs pressing into his side now.

Shitshitshitshit. Please just say what you wanna say and move back.

“He probably just didn’t wanna be alone tonight,” you said (Jesus Christ, Rafe wasn’t even sure he had the brainpower to follow you right now). “Cara stuck with JJ, Kelce with Molly, and well,” You gave him a sheepish smile. “You with me.”

Rafe’s lips twitched with amusement, but before he could say anything, you beat him to it.

“What I’m trying to say is,” you continued, sounding a little awkward, “I can’t really blame him for wanting to be with someone tonight. Yeah, sure, Ruthie wouldn’t have been my first choice, but—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Rafe cut you off with a tight nod, nudging you back with two fingers to your forehead. Because holy fuck, he could feel his blood heading straight to the wrong places again. “Enough talk about those two.”

You blinked at him, surprised, and shifted your upper body slightly away. Rafe had to fight the strongest damn urge not to glance at the view the movement of the blanket offered him in that moment of the shape of your boobs in that sweet little dress of yours.

Shit.

He could see the little minions in your brain scrambling, trying to figure out what was wrong. And then he saw the exact second one of them got it.

“Shit, relax,” he said, half amused at your reaction and half irritated at his own almost-reaction. “I just—”

"You know, if you need a minute in the toilet stalls, just say so," you said, dry amusement clinging to your voice.

YO, WHAT.

That—shit, what??? Had Rafe just missed something or had you actually just offered him the chance for a quickie?

"For yourself!" you added, almost panicked, eyes wide, and Rafe could practically feel the heat radiating off your face.

Shit was hilarious.

And yeah, of course you hadn’t meant it the way he’d first thought. Besides the fact that you'd made it very clear you weren’t interested in him like that (why the fuck, though???), no way you'd want your first time to happen in some filthy toilet stall where any random loser could listen if they wanted to.

Nah, Rafe had decency. He wouldn't have let that happen. Even if you’d insisted. Okay, maybe he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to resist if you'd actually wanted to go through with it, but he’d have at least had the patience to wait until you two had a room.

“Sure.” Rafe raised his brows, a slow grin tugging at his lips. And then, fuck it, he let his right hand wander—just a little, just a tiny inch—from your waist toward your hip. Surely that wouldn’t—

Shit.

Okay, never mind. He moved it back to its original spot because he could basically hear your minions screaming inside your head, sprinting around in full panic mode and about to throw themselves down a deep, shitty spiral. He definitely didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable, or worse, have you bolt.

Or even worse, end up in another long-ass conversation with you.

“Sorry,” he muttered with a tight chuckle, already questioning his own self-control. Still, he couldn’t help being a little disappointed by the way you’d looked at him like a deer about to get shot.

And then—he almost thought he misheard it. A tiny “No, it’s okay,” slipped past your lips, soft enough to make his heart straight-up skip a beat. Big eyes locked on his, full of uncertainty and… something else.

Now Rafe was fucking confused. Because what?

What.

You'd claimed he was sending mixed signals, but you? Shit, you were a traffic light flashing both red and green at the same time.

At least Rafe had had the balls to tell you he was attracted to you. But you? You only ever admitted to enjoying hanging out with him. Nothing more. Okay, sure, you’d complimented his looks—like, twice—but only after he’d done so first. So that was probably just some polite etiquette bullshit.

Fuck, Rafe couldn’t make sense of you. And it kinda made him feel like a joke that the one time he felt this insane pull toward a girl, she didn’t feel the same.

Shit felt fucking unfair.

Whatever you’d meant with that little sentence, though, Rafe forced himself to keep his hand in the appropriate zone. No point pushing his luck. Also, he’d probably misheard it anyway, ears still ringing from leftover coke in his system. Last thing he wanted was for you to think he couldn’t control himself.

That would just be pathetic.

So he shook his head, lips tugging downward. “Nah, don’t wanna wake one of your fuckass minions.”

Not waiting for your reply, his hand slid up to your shoulder, gently nudging you back against his chest. Better play it safe than risk chasing you off with one stupid impulsive move. (Which—he, not taking a risk? Might as well accept he was going completely nuts.)

Thank God, you did lean back into him, a chuckle slipping from your lips. But Rafe didn’t miss the twitch of your brows or that almost disappointed glint in your eyes just before.

Shit, you were confusing the fuck out of him, but somehow that only made the pull toward you worse. There was something thrilling about it. Almost like a shot of adrenaline—having to play with a new set of rules with you. The fact he didn't even know if there was a playground to begin with.

But that only made you more interesting. Because with you, he had no choice but to hold back. Flirt a little, sure. But anything more? He had to keep his fucking cock in check unless he wanted to ruin whatever this weird little friendship was.

And well, he guessed actual friends didn’t let their hands wander like that. Shit, no—just the thought of doing something like that with Kelce or—

NAH. Fuck that. Eugh.

Okay, at least that image helped kill the very real problem in his pants threatening to rise again.

Shiiiit. Right!

He just had to start viewing you like one of the guys. A very cute, girly-looking guy who happened to look way too good in that dress, whose boobs had been pressed against his chest a minute ago and had threatened to make him hard again for the second fucking time tonight.

Fucking hell, you weren’t making it easy for Rafe.

Fuck it. Maybe he should look for another girl to hook up with on the side. Just to relieve this stupid pressure he seemed to feel because of you. Shit was starting to make even him uncomfortable. And the last thing he wanted was to ruin this friendship thingy with you just because some other part of him had other plans.

Huh. Nah.

What the fuck. What was wrong with him?

The idea of getting a side chick just to stay sane around you??? What was he, some horny fucking dog? Shit. Fuck. What the hell. Besides, he was done with girls like that anyway. He had way bigger problems than this suddenly raging sex drive.

But he also didn’t wanna waste another second thinking about that psycho bitch Ruthie either. She’d already ruined this little “bonding moment” of yours (still kinda cute that you called it that). Rafe had zero desire to keep stewing in that mess. He couldn’t change anything about this fucked up situation right now anyway. No point wasting more energy on that bullshit.

Jesus Christ—no, for real now—what the fuck was in your goddamn perfume?

And when your head tilted up again, eyes moving from the shitty-ass robot car movie to his face, Rafe could feel the way his nerves lit up.

He fully expected you to question what that little move of his had been about, ask why he'd said he wanted to be friends but then acted like that (which, honestly, he didn’t fucking know either lol), but thank God you didn’t.

“So, just to be safe,” you said with a sheepish smile, “if they ask about what happened, which I’m 99 percent sure they will—Cara at the very least—what do you want me to say?”

Somehow, the fact that you asked him how he wanted the situation to be handled, without pushing your own opinion on him, without instantly running off to your annoying friends to spill everything…

Shit made a very weird feeling rise in his chest.

Besides Kelce and maybe Wheezie, no one ever talked to Rafe about things without just going ahead and act on their own. No one ever bothered to involve him or ask for his opinion. Even his dad—Rafe always came up with solid ideas and plans that could actually push Cameron Development forward in the long run, but he never listened.

No one ever fucking listened to what Rafe had to say, and he was so fucking sick of it.

All of them acted purely out of self-interest without a second thought, doing dumb shit that could’ve easily been avoided if they just fucking used their brains.

But you... every second Rafe spent around you, every time you said something or did something or revealed more of yourself, it felt like he’d finally found someone who got him. Someone who just knew. Someone who—

“Rafe?”

He blinked.

Shit. You’d caught him so off guard, he’d just stared at you.

“Uh, yeah,” he mumbled, letting out a startled little laugh, his thumb brushing over the soft skin on your wrist for a second before he realized what the fuck he was doing and let his fingers drop beside your hand again. “I—sorry, what?”

Shit, what the fuck was up with him? He still had some leftover coke in his system, and he still acted like this.

Your brows twitched for a moment, and he thought you’d back off now, but instead you just chuckled, that mix of embarrassment and amusement so sweet in your tone.

“What do you want me to say if someone asks what happened?” you repeated. “I mean, they know you left because someone texted you.”

So you had spilled a few details to your new shitty-ass friends earlier, but Rafe guessed he could live with that.

In hindsight, he did feel kinda bad for not telling you why he'd left. If you had pulled that shit, he probably would’ve gone after you and demanded to know what the fuck that had been about. And, well, in the end, you did chase after him and snapped at him, but as soon as he'd explained the problem, you immediately switched.

Straight into solution-mode. Proactive.

Shit, that’s what Rafe needed. Someone who offered him ways out of this fucked-up mess. Someone who showed him what to do next, how to tackle something, not some whiny bitch crying about how sorry they were for him.

He knew the situation was fucked up already.

“Dunno.” Rafe scratched his jaw, brows furrowed. “It’s none of their business. So probably that.”

“Uh, yeah, no, pretty sure that’s not gonna satisfy them,” you said with dry amusement, twisting his polo fabric between your fingers.

Rafe slapped your hand lightly, frowning. “Stop that. You’re creasing it.”

You let out an amused chuckle and stopped fidgeting. “They won’t be happy to hear you used violence against me.”

Ha. Ha.

Rafe scoffed but then his expression dropped almost instantly when he remembered how harshly he’d grabbed your wrist earlier when you'd stepped to his side as soon as the security guards arrived. He’d expected stupid Kelce or Topper but then saw your big scaredy eyes and it felt like someone had smashed a fucking sledgehammer against his face.

“I was joking,” you said softly now, those same big eyes on him, only this time without the fear from earlier.

Rafe’s chest clenched. “Yeah, no, I know, I just…” He furrowed his brows, glancing at your wrist, looking for any kind of bruise. “Earlier, when I grabbed you. I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

For a moment, you just looked at him. Almost stunned. Then you shook your head with a soft smile, and somehow Rafe knew things were okay.

“It’s alright,” you said gently. A chuckle escaped your lips. “I mean, you do have a firm grip, but you didn’t actually hurt me. And I know you didn’t mean to.”

Rafe didn’t even— Jesus Christ, somehow your understanding made him feel worse than if you’d actually guilt-tripped him.

This sudden urge to apologize arose in him. To say he was sorry for leaving you behind, for keeping you in the dark, for yelling at you, for being sorry about every shitty thing he’d done this week that might’ve made you feel like you were anything less than you actually were.

Because the truth was, as crazy and messed up as you were, you were still better than him.

You were sweet and gentle, polite and kind, and you had this way of handling him so effortlessly (when your little minions weren’t going wild, at least), it felt like he could breathe around you. He didn’t feel like he had to prove anything to you.

And the words were sitting right there on the tip of his tongue, but he knew he’d mess it up. He didn’t know how to actually say what he meant, how to express how much he appreciated you still sticking around. He’d just stumble over himself and end up sounding pathetic.

So all he did was nod, eyes fixed on the heart charm on your bracelet he was currently fidgeting with, and said, “Still, I’m sorry.” His gaze met yours again. “About everything.”

Fuck, he was so bad at this shit, and it pissed him off that he couldn’t just say what he meant. How the fuck did you always know exactly what to say?

To his surprise, you just nodded—no big speech, no dramatic nonsense, just a soft smile on your lips as you gently smoothed out the wrinkle you’d made in his polo. And all you said was, “Apology accepted.”

Again. How the fuck did you always manage to say exactly what Rafe needed to hear? Seriously. Shit was crazy.

“Now I kinda wanna watch that movie you claim is so terrible,” you added with a teasing glint in your eyes, and shit—Rafe couldn’t help but wonder what that playful little spark of yours would look like in the bedroom.

He grimaced—both because yeah, the movie was garbage, and also because he couldn’t go five fucking minutes without one of those images popping into his head.

“Shit, it is,” he said. “Barbie was better than whatever this crap is. Fucking robot cars from space. Like, who the fuck came up with this shit? One of your fuckass minions?”

You raised a brow. “Funny, coming from the guy who missed half the Barbie movie.”

Oh you—

“Sorry,” you giggled, the sound vibrating softly against his ribs. “I mean, you’re right. Barbie did have way more important things to say than whatever the hell Optimus Prime is talking about right now.”

Rafe snorted. “Aight, I think you better stop talking now before this bonding moment turns into a breakup moment.”

“Hah. That’d be the record for the shortest friendship I’ve ever had,” you replied with soft amusement, tapping once on his chest. “Thirty-two hours.”

Dude.

"You for real right now?" No fucking way you counted the actual hours.

You just stared at him, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Rafe's lips parted in disbelief, because what the fuck.

"Just kidding," you chuckled.

"No the fuck you weren't."

“No, I wasn’t.” You shifted slightly, turning your upper body toward him, brows raised with a cheeky smile. "Okay, listen, there's this tracker app—"

"Aw, shit, no," Rafe laughed, absolutely baffled, his voice cracking halfway through, as he playfully nudged your head off his chest. "You're fucking crazy."

You (not so gently) slapped his hand away with a scoff. "I do the same with Cara. It's cool knowing the exact day we became best friends."

Jesus Christ. What the fuck had he gotten himself into here?

Rafe’s face twisted into whatever emotion existed between being weirded out and somehow enjoying the fact you tracked your new friendship.

He let out a heavy breath and nodded. "Shit, I guess. I hope you know this is insane, though."

"Okay," you mock-sighed with a shrug. He felt his nerves buzz when you shifted back onto his chest, eyes back on the shitty-ass movie. "Guess I’ll go ahead and delete our entry then."

Huh? What. No!

Rafe frowned, staring at the back of your head, hating himself for what he was about to say. "What’s this fuckass app called?"

He felt your chest rumble against his as you chuckled again. Without even glancing his way, you said, "TrackerBuddies."

Aw, hell no. Fuck that.

Kelce had begged him to download that shit back in like 8th grade or so. Rafe hadn’t thought much of it and then he had to listen to Kelce whining for weeks about why Rafe never watered their digital plant that was apparently supposed to symbolize their friendship or some bullshit. Honestly, what the fuck.

Deleted that app immediately.

"Nah," Rafe said. "Kelce uses it. If he sees me on there again, he’s gonna start bitching about why I haven’t added him back."

Rafe already knew the second you tilted your head back to meet his gaze that he wasn’t gonna like whatever you were about to say.

"I know", you said with a smug smile. "I saw your sad, dried-up little plant in his friends' library. Didn’t even make it to level 3."

Shit. What.

"You two are friends on there?" he asked, staring at you blankly, his voice way drier than intended.

Your lips twitched into a downward smile. "Well, yeah. We kinda ended up talking about it in History on Friday and then I added him."

Hah. Funny. Fucking hilarious.

Not only had you and Kelce become friends before you and Rafe��apparently in real life and on this fuckass app—but you had added Kelce willingly.

A deep, ugly feeling spread in Rafe’s chest, his brows twitching in confusion. "And which level are you two fuckers on?"

"Five."

FIVE? In three fucking days? How— What—

"You’re bullshitting."

You laughed. "What?"

"Yeah," Rafe said, brows furrowed. "That’s impossible."

"Well, we got an early friendship boost for watering Willy for three days. Lots of XP."

Willy? You named the fuckass plant you shared with Kelce Willy?

Rafe just blinked at you, a deep scowl forming on his face that he couldn’t stop if he wanted to. That awful feeling in his chest only got worse.

"Fuck that," he finally muttered, pulling his right hand away from your waist to fish his phone out of his pocket. "What’s your friend code?"

You giggled as you shifted position, hugging your side of the blanket to your chest as you sat upright next to him. "You really wanna add me or do you just wanna beat Kelce’s level?"

Rafe nodded, frowning, eyes glued to the App Store as he re-downloaded this stupid-ass app. "Yes."

"Alright," you chuckled, leaning against his shoulder to peek at his screen. "I think you just need to click on Kelce’s profile—yeah, there—and then in his friend library—yes, that’s my profile."

Rafe’s frown deepened when he saw your whole friends list on this cursed app. Your crazy-ass best friend, of course. Shitface Kelce, obviously. Molly. Fucking Topper, who probably only downloaded it to follow the trend. Even pogue rat John B, what the actual fuck, and that Heyward boy.

And worst of all: Sarah.

Seriously, he couldn’t even describe how much this pissed him off. Every idiot in the damn universe seemed to be on your friends list—except him.

But the funny thing? He didn’t see any of those fuckers’ bracelets on your wrist.

What a fucking joke.

"Give me my phone," you said, amused. "Then I can add you back."

Rafe wasted no time. But apparently your shitty phone did, taking forever to boot back up after he’d turned it off earlier.

"Jesus," you muttered with a laugh as Rafe hovered over your shoulder to make sure you actually added him back.

He shifted back just as his phone vibrated with a notification from that fuckass app. Rafe’s heart skipped a beat (fuck, what) as he read the message:

yourusername just added you as a friend [+50 XP]

And then another:

yourusername promoted you to their Best Buddy [+100 XP]

Rafe’s head snapped up, meeting your amused grin with a baffled look. Shouldn’t that title go to—

"Cara doesn’t take this as seriously as I do," you said, chuckling sweetly and nodding toward his phone. "So you better prove yourself worthy."

Oh, you could bet your sweet little ass he would.

Rafe couldn’t even stop the smile from creeping onto his face. Just the fact that you were now officially friends—Best Buddies, even—on this dumb fucking app honestly excited him almost as much as the fact that you were wearing his bracelet around your wrist.

I’m fucking losing it, dude.

"Also, I assume your account’s pretty old," you said, face twisting into an amused grimace.

Rafe narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh as you looked at your screen. "DarthDude."

Shit.

He scowled.

Yeah, fuck. He’d kinda forgotten about the username he’d made in 8th grade. Had some cringe-ass Star Wars phase back then because of Kelce. Eugh. He had the full package—lightsaber, posters, even a couple helmets in his room.

Embarrassing as hell.

Though he had kept two of the red lightsabers above his bedframe since it made a pretty cool LED for when some girl came over.

Anyway, no chance in hell he was addressing that. Way beneath him.

So he just shook his head with a frown, grabbed both your phones despite your protests, set them aside on his end, and leaned back against the bed frame, his right hand finding your waist again.

“Enough of this shit now,” he muttered and scowled as your body seemed to resist when he tried nudging you back onto his chest. “What? Gonna miss the second shitty-ass movie thanks to you.”

You just chuckled, murmuring a quiet “Drama queen” as you thankfully settled back against him.

Rafe exhaled.

Peace settled back into him with you curled up on his chest again, your perfume lingering in the air.

As much as this movie sucked, he was already dreading its end. Because that would mean the end of this. And then he’d have to face a swarm of annoying-ass people again, all ready to bombard both of you with questions and stupid jokes (honestly, he was still surprised Kelce hadn’t gotten up from his lounge bed to go check on Rafe).

The only good thing about all that?

You’d be there, too. And Rafe would damn well make sure not to leave your side again.

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"Shiiit, you half-blind now or what?" Rafe asked, chuckling as he eyed Topper's bloodshot left eye.

Fucker looked busted. Left cheekbone red, already hinting at a nasty bruise forming. Looked worse than Rafe’s own, and he hadn’t even hit Top that hard.

After that not-so-shitty-movie had ended, Kelce and Molly had immediately jumped from their lounge bed over to the one Rafe had shared with you, grinning at you two like a pair of fucking idiots.

Thank fuck they'd held back on questions about earlier. Just a few comments about you and Rafe cuddling, and Kelce asking if Rafe was alright. That was it.

That was actually one of the few things Rafe appreciated about Kelce. No whiny, unnecessary bullshit.

Shortly after, you’d called Hall to ask where she was, and you all met at the bar on the side of the venue, now sitting at one of the wooden picnic tables. Rafe had immediately taken the seat to your right on one of the benches, Kelce scooting in right after (did he seriously rather sit next to Rafe than his new girlfriend, dude, what the fuck).

And the first thing Rafe had noticed as the other three sat down across from you: Topper’s sorry-ass condition.

Shit sure as hell wasn’t that bad, and Rafe figured the fucker was just playing it up to get some sympathy from your best friend. Apparently, it worked because they’d spent the second movie together in the first aid tent.

Great. Another annoying couple.

“Seriously?” Cara said before Topper could even start complaining. “I’d say 100% blind, considering he believed Ruthie to be good company.”

A baffled laugh escaped Rafe’s lips (shit, maybe your friend wasn’t all that bad). He could even see you out of the corner of his eye suppressing a chuckle beside him.

Idiot Topper sulked, raising the cool pad back to his cheek. “She asked me to go join them, so I did. Would you guys have preferred I cuddled up to one of you?”

“Fuck no,” Rafe shot back in sharp disbelief, only to glance at you as you kicked him gently under the table. Your eyes said something along the lines of “Remember what we talked about.”

Aw, shit. Right. He’d promised you earlier he’d show some remorse toward Topper (why the hell had he agreed to that again?).

Eugh. Rafe didn’t wanna do that shit. Saying anything remotely apologetic out loud would mean he’d be submitting to fucking Topper of all people. That guy was a whiny little bitch, and Rafe had no intention of giving him any kind of satisfaction. Especially since there was still a chance he’d been involved in that Ruthie bullshit.

But for you? Rafe would do it. He owed you that much.

So before Kelce could open his mouth to say some shit like Could’ve squeezed in between me and Molly, blah blah she’s wonderful, blah blah, Rafe gathered all his strength and willpower, ffurrowed his brows, and said, “But you could’ve joined some other chick in the front rows. Would’ve spared you that unfortunate bruise.”

What?

He’d said what you asked of him, but everyone still looked at him like he was speaking in riddles. Especially Topper—squinting like he couldn’t make sense of Rafe’s words. The fuck.

“I think he’s trying to say he would’ve rather not hit you,” you said with a smile.

Hah. See. You always knew what to say. Why even make Rafe do it?

Then came another kick to his leg, followed by you giving him that way-too-sweet smile and raised eyebrows. “Right?”

Not just a Crazyhead, but a stubborn one too. Alright.

Rafe didn’t wanna drag this unnecessary topic out any longer, so he just nodded, reluctant as hell. “Uh-huh. Yeah, sure.”

That's all Topper was getting. And thank god, that idiot just responded with a slight smile and a nod. “Maybe next time, though, let me know what’s wrong before going all in.”

Rafe almost laughed out loud. If he’d gone all in, Topper would be in the hospital right now. But sure, let this idiot believe whatever the fuck he wanted.

“Yeeaahhh,” Hall said, curling her lips and raising her brows directly at Rafe. “I meaaaan, what did happen?”

Oh, you’d been right about this one too. Your nosy friend being nosy. Fucking great.

Funny enough, Molly shot her an uncharacteristically sharp side-eye. Aight, those chicks had definitely been chatting behind Rafe’s back, and he was willing to bet their whole convo was sitting in that stupid little girlie group chat he’d caught a glimpse of earlier.

Rafe rubbed his jaw in annoyance and leaned back against the cushioned backrest, his left arm resting behind your shoulders. “Some fucker decided to annoy me mid-movie and I had to take care of a few things. Shit’s solved now.”

Kelce raised his brows. “Who—”

“Ruthie?” your best friend blurted out.

Shit, what. How had she— what the fuck. How had both of you caught on that fast?

Rafe furrowed his brows, scratching at the label on his flask. For some reason, he felt the sudden urge to play with your bracelet, but he resisted. Instead, he said, “Yeah, but like I said, I took care of it.”

No point denying what everyone already seemed to know. Not that they needed to know he was knee-deep in that shit.

“So that’s why she left,” Topper muttered, looking like some sulky crybaby. “Just giggled to Gracie and Samantha and then dipped. Didn’t think she’d talk to you.”

Just drop this shit already, Jesus Christ. Hadn’t Rafe literally just said it was dealt with?

Kelce nodded. “Must’ve been something bad, the way you stormed off your seat.”

Shit, him too now?

Rafe could feel how this was making you uncomfortable, the way you quietly fidgeted with the straw in your drink. Your brain probably spiraling again over the whole fact of Rafe leaving you behind.

Alright, fuck that. You two didn’t come here for some kind of interrogation.

“I said it’s been handled,” Rafe repeated, sharper now. “So quit pissing me off. Had enough of this shit tonight.”

Luckily for them, everyone shut the hell up. Otherwise, Rafe might’ve actually crashed the fuck out.

“O-kayyy,” Hall said with a tight smile, blinking as she clasped her hands. “Sooo, how did everyone like the movies?”

Great. Female Kelce, apparently.

At least that finally shifted the convo to something that didn’t involve Rafe, Ruthie, or Rafe and Ruthie.

And since he was done talking for the night, Rafe just relaxed in his seat, took a sip of this cheap-ass pogue beer, and listened to whatever the idiots at this table—and you—were chatting about. Occasionally, he’d throw in a comment.

Whenever you giggled at something, he soaked it all the way up, letting himself smile along when you started rambling about which Barbie movie was your favorite as a kid (fucking Kelce joining in for some reason).

And when Rafe caught himself absentmindedly toying with the fabric of your dress near your shoulder—somehow calming to his brain—he cursed himself for doing that in public. But he didn’t stop. You didn’t seem to mind.

As a matter of fact, you didn’t even pull away when Rafe rested his knee against yours—just needed to scoot closer after Kelce decided to manspread for no goddamn reason (though Rafe was pretty sure that grin Kelce shot him was confirmation he did that on purpose).

Fuckass.

Annoying as hell, but Kelce always knew how to be the best wingman when Rafe needed it (not that he needed it with you as he had no intention of using you for a hookup, okay!). Maybe that dumbass really was the closest thing Rafe had to a best friend (god, what were you doing to him, making him think in cringe-ass terms like that).

“…and when Ryan Gosling showed his abs I was like—” your friend babbled, stopping mid-sentence when her phone rang with the loudest, most annoying ringtone ever (some Nicki Minaj song). “Oh wait, Sarah’s calling.”

Fuck no. Absolutely not. Rafe already knew what she wanted.

“We’re literally at the bar,” Hall said, looking around. “Girl, you stupid? Yeah, wait, no—turn the other way. No, not—there. Pope spotted us.” She waved, then blinked at whatever Sarah said next, glancing at Rafe for a second. “Uh, yeah.” Then to him: “Can they come over or are you gonna kill them?”

Rafe’s whole body tensed at the idea of Sarah and her shitty pogue rats joining their table. Hell no. Now she wanted to infiltrate his friend group too? That was the last straw.

“I’m sure they’ll find another table,” he said dryly, earning a few blinks in return and a “Come on, dude” from Kelce.

Cara turned back to her call, babbling on, but Rafe’s focus shifted the moment you turned to him. His expression softened instantly when he saw your almost disappointed face.

You tilted your head slightly and said quietly, “They’re not as bad as you think.”

“What, you want them here?” Rafe scoffed, irritation bubbling. The way you were getting close with Sarah and her fuckass friends really didn’t sit right with him.

“I wouldn’t mind,” you replied softly, making Rafe frown while Hall continued loudly yapping in the background.

Oh hell no, he didn’t—

“But if I’m honest,” you continued, voice still quiet, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips, “I also wouldn’t mind if we dipped.”

Rafe blinked, twisting the fabric of your dress between his fingers. “You wanna leave?”

“No, I mean—yeah,” you said with an awkward chuckle. “This whole night’s been kinda a lot and I could use some desocializing.”

Oh. So you wanted to go home.

A sinking feeling spread in Rafe’s stomach almost instantly, disappointment settling deep in his bones. He didn’t want to leave. Or go home. Or say goodbye to you. Not yet.

The frown came naturally. “And how exactly do you plan on getting home? We all came with Topper’s—”

“No, no,” you cut in with a sheepish smile, shaking your head. “I don’t mean home-home. I actually thought we could, you know… I mean I liked our little drive-around last night. Thought maybe we could repeat that or something.”

So desocializing only meant ditching the annoying idiots—not him.

Ha.

Rafe grinned. “Same question. How you planning to get away from here? Unless you feel like stealing a car.”

That made your face light up, and something warm and electric bloomed in Rafe’s chest.

“There’s this app called Uber,” you said, laughing.

Rafe wrinkled his nose. “Oh fuck that, I don’t—”

“I think you can go ahead and call them over, Cara,” Kelce announced from Rafe’s right, making both of you snap your heads around. “Looks like these two are making space.”

Fucker had been eavesdropping.

Cara blinked, Molly giggled, and Topper gave you a raised brow. Then your friend’s face twisted into the biggest grin like she’d just won Miss America.

“Okii,” she chimed, turning back to her phone. “Come over, babes.”

Alright, that was enough. If Rafe had to sit through more of this bullshit—or see Sarah and her little pogue crew crowding into his space—he was gonna lose it.

So before he had to deal with his nosy-ass sister and her swamp rats, he nudged your shoulder with a quiet “Let’s go,” urging you to move.

Which, thankfully, you did, with an awkward chuckle and your bag slung over your shoulder. Rafe grabbed your jacket off the hook at the table and turned to the four grinning idiots now watching the two of you.

“Have fun,” Molly said first with a soft smile, shifting over to sit next to Kelce.

That idiot’s grin deepened as he threw an arm around her and waved. “Don’t go too crazy though.”

Shut the fuck up.

Topper only nodded with a “See you tomorrow,” while your friend hopped up to hug you goodbye like a buzzing hamster.

“Have fun, remember what JJ said yesterday, and love you,” she said as she pulled away, making Rafe wonder what the fuck that pogue rat had told you.

You just nodded, a little overwhelmed. “Uh-huh. Yeah. Love you too, C.” Then turned to the others. “You guys enjoy the rest of the night. See you at school.”

And before another round of cringe goodbyes could start, Rafe placed his hand on your lower back and nudged you toward the exit, turning around one last time. “Yeah, yeah. Hope you all have the time of your lives hanging out with fuckass swamp rats.”

“Hey, you better shut up,” your friend replied with the least intimidating glare Rafe had ever seen. “Or else we’ll be having a nice little chat about how to behave properly around women.”

Now Rafe got why her and Barry got along so well apparently. Throwing threats around like confetti.

Whatever.

He just grimaced at her, and finally, you started moving, clutching your bag and laughing under your breath.

Once you’d made it out of the venue, Rafe helped you into your jacket, even took your purse because despite what that loudmouthed boxer-friend had said, Rafe knew how to be a gentleman when he wanted to.

Hell, he even called the fuckass Uber himself, held the door open for you as you slipped inside, and tipped that old lady driving well enough that she could probably take three days off next week.

And when you’d arrived at your place, Rafe held the fucking door open for you again—of course—and even took charge of driving your dad’s shiny white Corvette (fucking hell of a beauty, by the way), because there was no way in hell he was gonna let you drive, especially not after you’d had a drink.

You did protest, since he’d done coke earlier (and half a beer), but that shit had already been processed by his system and Rafe could drive a car blindfolded if he wanted to.

“Okay, Leclerc,” you said with dry amusement as you handed him the keys. “But just know my dad’s gonna kill you if you put even the tiniest scratch on his car.”

Honestly, that did make Rafe’s nerves spark for a second, but more than that, it snapped him more sober. So, a win.

And as the two of you climbed into the car (after Rafe had held the door open for you again, obviously), he let out an excited chuckle as the Corvette’s engine rumbled through the garage, sounding almost as beautiful as your laugh.

“So,” he said with a crooked grin as he pulled out of the driveway, “where do you wanna go and desocialize?” (Rafe hadn't even known that fucking term existed)

Oh no. That cheeky smile of yours did not mean anything good.

“Kinda feeling like a McFlurry right now.”

Rafe almost cried out loud at the thought of having to steer your dad’s precious Corvette through the tiny-ass McDonald’s drive-thru.

But he wasn’t fucking whiny Topper, so he just forced a smile and said in a mockingly polite tone, “Sure. Whatever the lady desires.”

And the sweet laugh that escaped your lips after that made it almost worth the risk of scratching your dad’s goddamn Corvette in a shitty-ass McDonald's drive-thru.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- C H . 1 9 | C H . 2 0 ->

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

T A G L I S T F O R M (taglist for this series is CLOSED but you can sign up for my other stuff through this link)

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memoirofasparklemuff1n · 7 days ago

Text

legitimately pissed the FUCK off

who the FUCK does he think he is???

i have too much pride to have gone after him 😤

which is why i fear this is where my story would’ve ended 💀

he would’ve just received the lengthiest message basically telling him to burn in hell (with me 🫦, WHAT WHO SAID THAT?)

no but i legitimately would’ve slapped him 😭 and then i would’ve felt bad but there is no way in hell i would’ve apologized 💀

GASLIGHT GATEKEEP GIRLBOSS

BUT GOOD IN READER FOR TELLING HIM OFF CUZ TF

tbh i don’t know how i wouldve reacted:

BUT THAT RUTHIE BITCH IMMA KILL HER

AND GRACIE WTF IS SHE IN LOVE WITH RUTHIE OR SOMETHING????

killing me softly | 19

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R E V I O U S | N E X T ->

✿ G E N R E ✿ she fell first, he fell harder | slice of life | drama

✿ P A I R I N G ✿ s1!rafe cameron x overthinking!reader (f)

✿ C O N T E N T W A R N I N G ✿ swearing, suggestive language & themes, rafe refusing to refer to them cuddling as cuddling, fluff, rafe crashing out internally and also externally (standard cw atp), ANGST, mention of coke usage, rafe on coke, ruthie :)))), rafe having violent thoughts, hints at platonic rafe x kiara, verbal tension/major argument, minor violence (punch to the face), again ANGST and kindaaa s2!rafe vibes at the end (and ig some hints at bpd)

✿ S U M M A R Y O F L A S T P A R T ✿ you updated cara after waking up (who had spent the night with jj) and she freaked out over everything, insisting that rafe liked you more than you thought, but you said you'd rather play it safe. you and rafe texted a bit. he immediately got riled up about you being in the pogue girls’ group chat, but you reassured him. he also got a bit too comfortable with his flirty pics and wording. cara ditched topper’s ride and chose to drive with john b. at lunch, your parents voiced concern over rafe’s well-being, given ward’s difficult nature. you stuided the afternoon for tomorrow’s math test. after a quick outfit check with the girls, you were picked up at 7. in the car, topper sulked about cara; molly and kelce seemed even closer. at the open air parking lot, you and rafe complimented each other. he was surprisingly gentlemanly, paying for your ticket, coat check, and snacks. after a brief chat with cara and jj, you felt a small pang of jealousy when rafe commented on cara’s nipple piercings. kelce and molly had reserved you and rafe a lounge bed next to them, which made you panic a bit. rafe seemed disappointed and hurt by your distant behavior, but you pulled yourself together and even excused your anxiety to which he reacted surprisingly sweet. a slightly awkward moment arose when he got a boner (probably bc of you) which you managed to defuse by joking around about your teacher’s buttcrack. as it got colder, you hesitantly scooted closer to rafe under the blanket. you lay really close and eventually worked up the courage to fully cuddle with him, pushing aside your fear of rejection. rafe even put your pillow away so it was just the two of you close together. deep down, it started to feel like this maybe meant more than just a newfound friendship.

✿ W O R D C O U N T ✿ 15.2k+ (SO SORRY)

✿ A / N ✿ um, yeah. not much to say about this other than AHHHHHHHH. sorry this is so long, i heavily debated if i should cut it before the last scene but i didn't wanna keep you guys on edge for no reason so guess you gotta eat all that shit up. also, hahahah, LOTS of back-and-forth but i HOPE you guys will enjoy the direction i decided to go with (especially bc i'm so anxious about the new problem i'm introducing) and PLS lmk what you think <3 ᓚᘏᗢ

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Rafe had stopped counting how many times he’d questioned his sanity this week. The tenth, fourteenth, fiftieth, shit, probably the thousandth time.

With this moment right now? Probably the 1001st.

Because if some asshole had told him at the beginning of the week that seven days later he’d be lying on some stupid shitty lounge bed with some completely random girl back at the time, at some stupid shitty open-air event, watching fucking Barbie with a bunch of stupid shitty people, while you clung to him like a goddamn baby koala—Rafe would’ve beat the fucker right the fuck up.

After that, he probably would’ve done a fat line of coke just because hearing some dumb shit like that required it on principle, and then he’d have gone on with his life.

But now? He probably wouldn’t even beat up that bum Rob. Shit, not even fucker Chris, even if that asshole stood right in front of him talking some bullshit. Because that would mean Rafe had to get up. And that, in turn, would mean he’d have to let go of you.

Of you. Your warm body half-hugging his, your right hand resting comfortably on his upper stomach—a gesture that somehow irritated and grounded him all at once—your head that seemed to fit perfectly on the side of his chest, and fucking hell, your addicting scent mixed with the perfume you wore that was driving him absolutely crazy.

Rafe felt so at ease with you here. The lack of tension, the missing irritation that usually ran through his whole body, confused the absolute fuck out of him.

He didn’t fucking understand why he liked the way you clung to him. Why this felt like doing four lines in a row. Why this absolutely absurd position you two were in had his pulse racing. Why it made his blood rush, his nerves buzz, and his adrenaline shoot through his veins like going 140 mph down the highway with a line in his system.

And what confused him the most—what made him question absolutely everything he’d ever stood for—was why he even allowed it.

Why the actual fuck was Rafe letting some random girl get this close to him—in public, no less—where every shitty bastard and gossip bitch could see? And fucking Kelce, barely a meter away on top of it.

It made no fucking goddamn sense why this felt… normal.

As normal as paying for your ticket and snacks because Rafe had already been in line anyway and it’s not like he was hurting for cash, so he might as well save time and pay for yours too.

And for some fucked up reason, Rafe actually enjoyed doing it.

Why? He had no fucking clue. Most chicks he’d hooked up with expected him to buy them drinks, gifts, dinner, or pay for their nails or whatever the fuck. Like, did he look like a goddamn charity case to them?

But you? You even wanted to pay for yourself, which, as a matter of fact, just made him want to pay for you all the more, just out of fucking principle. No fucking way was Rafe letting himself get turned down.

Shit, seriously, since when had he started chasing after a girl?

But honestly, he didn’t even give a fuck anymore.

He’d already stopped fighting this feeling on Friday night. Because this pull he felt toward you? Simple explanation: you were a very cute girl with a pretty face that drove him absolutely fucking insane with your fucked-up brain—and somehow, Rafe liked that.

He fucked with it.

You being a little nuts, the way you always pissed him off, your weirdness, and the insane shit that ran through your head nonstop. It was like having the human version of Rick and Morty around—deranged, cracked out, and somehow still annoyingly enjoyable. Especially because you weren’t predictable.

As much as that pissed him off as well, he also liked how your reactions always surprised him. You weren’t boring.

Sometimes you were awkward and nervous for no fucking reason, just like earlier when you two had waited in line for snacks. Like what the actual fuck was that? Sometimes you snapped back like your life depended on it, like yesterday, during that stupid argument about you hanging out with Sarah. And sometimes, you even flirted the fuck back—like holy shit, did you actually have a split personality or some shit?

Then again, Rafe wasn’t entirely sure if you were flirting, or just being nice whenever you complimented his looks or had that teasing little twinkle in your eyes.

Nah. You flirting? You always looked like you were about to have a mental breakdown whenever Rafe flirted.

So, you were probably just on that sweet polite girl shit.

Shit. Why was this even taking up space in his head? See what you were doing to him? Your fucking overthinking whatever-the-fuck was rubbing off on him.

NAH, what the fuck was he even thinking? That wasn’t overthinking. Rafe was just following his thoughts a little further than usual.

He wasn’t you. He didn’t have a fucking army of little shitty-ass asshole minions in his head constantly talking shit and running around setting his brain on fire.

…Shit.

Rafe hadn’t even noticed his left hand playing with that stupid crappy bracelet on your wrist, fingers brushing over the little childish charms dangling from it. He couldn’t help it. Somehow, it scratched his brain just right.

And you actually wearing that four-dollar gas station horse-themed friendship bracelet? Stupidly hilarious. But for some goddamn reason, the fact that you wore it filled him with this weird sense of pride (the fuck) and excitement (even bigger the fuck) because you deciding to wear something he had given you? Sure. If you wanted to show off your new possession, Rafe wasn’t gonna stop you.

And as a matter of fact, you weren’t stopping him either from touching that cursed thing in the first place (Shit, why the fuck was he still messing with it?).

Oh! Speaking of touching things he probably shouldn’t be touching.

His right hand, which was resting very comfortably on your blanket-covered waist? The fact you hadn’t stopped him from doing that either really confused the fuck out of him.

Shit, the fact that you’d even initiated this whole laying-on-him-and-clinging-to-him thing in the first place? What the actual fuck. Like Rafe definitely wasn’t complaining about a cute girl like you holding onto him, but seriously—what. You making some kind of move or whatever the hell this was supposed to be? That was the craziest part of tonight.

Sure, it was also fucking insane how hot you looked in that sweet little dress of yours, or how he’d actually fucking gotten bricked up earlier when the same dress had ridden up your thighs, because that had immediately triggered a whole chain reaction of images (which—you reacting that chill about it? Fucking unreal), or the fact that right now he had to hold himself back so badly from not letting his hand wander lower because of the curve of your ass under the blanket?

Shit was driving him absolutely crazy to the point he had to pull up that cursed image you’d burned into his mind of Mr. Martin’s hairy caterpillar-ass or him in a goddamn tankini.

Like, hell no. Fuck you and bless you at the same time for that.

So Rafe kept his hand on your waist, fingers lightly drumming out a rhythm, because honestly? You’d probably freak out—well, the minions in your head would—if that hand actually wandered. And also, he didn’t wanna look like a damn liar because just yesterday he’d made it very clear (again...) that he wasn’t some perv trying to get into your pants.

Okay yeah, he wanted to bend you over, press your face into some sheets, hear those sweet little noises from your lips and—fuck, that wasn’t the point, alright? Just last night, he gave you some physical proof that he’d accepted your weird-ass conclusion that he wanted to be your friend (mainly because you practically forced him into it and, well, he kinda liked you but that also wasn’t the point either, okay?).

So yeah, Rafe definitely wasn’t about to scare you off by making a move that would have you backing away like some scared stray cat.

THEN AGAIN, why the hell had you initiated this, if you supposedly weren’t looking for anything with him, huh? You’d both been lying there pretty damn comfortably. You with your little pillow under his arm and all, and then when you'd sat up, Rafe had honestly thought you were about to have a mini panic attack again—but no.

Fucking hell. You’d actually wanted to lay down on him, and now he was back to the exact same fucking thought cycle he’d just tried to escape, and he hadn’t registered a single damn word that stupid-ass Ken was sobbing about on the screen.

Fucking fantastic.

Maybe one of your shitty little asshole minions had actually infiltrated his brain.

No, fuck that, he just had to face the facts.

You were a sweet, nice girl when you weren’t in your cracked-out mode. As far as Rafe knew, you only hung out with other girls. One of them being your insane best friend (who chose fucking swamp rat Maybank over Topper? Whatever). And Rafe remembered from Sarah and her friendship with Kie that girls didn’t really have boundaries when it came to physical closeness. Cuddling, sleepovers, sharing beds, even making out for fun, all that shit. Stuff Rafe would never in his fucking life do with Kelce or Topper.

So with that in mind, you probably saw this—you two cozied up like this—as just another normal, friendship thing (Rafe still couldn’t believe he agreed to that fucking label). That was probably exactly why it didn’t faze you.

You were used to this with your girl friends.

Fuck, and why the hell did that piss him off now?

The fact that this was just some mundane, platonic thing for you and—fuck that. Jesus Christ, fuck that. What the actual hell was going on with him?

Oh right. He hadn’t done a line since yesterday morning. No wonder his brain was going insane.

Rafe slouched deeper into the seat, this whole mental gymnastics session draining the shit out of him. Your body instinctively adjusted to his as he pulled you in a little closer by your waist and—

Fuck.

The way your hip shifted under that fuzzy blanket as your right leg moved slightly, your knee now resting on his.

Rafe bit the inside of his cheek, trying like hell to think of literally anything else besides the electric shock that movement sent up his leg. How you didn’t seem fazed at all but he was basically losing his goddamn mind.

Like, he actually had to fight off another wave of brutally suggestive thoughts and visuals and—get a fucking grip,dude. The last thing he needed was another goddamn boner within thirty minutes.

Then you’d really think he was some horny fucking bastard. And also? He never got this turned on this quick with any other girl. Did you have some crazy-ass pheromones baked into your insanely good-smelling perfume?

Shit was insane.

With the hand that had been fiddling with your bracelet, Rafe ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, trying to focus on the dumbass movie. He let his hand fall back down onto his stomach, just inches from yours.

There was this urge, this absolutely stupid pull to reach over again. Not just for the crappy bracelet but for your actual hand. Feel your skin, trace the shape of your fingers, map out the patterns of your palm.

He was just curious, okay?

But he didn’t wanna push it. He was already scared that any wrong move might make you recoil. No way you'd—

No fucking way.

Rafe’s heart actually skipped a beat as your hand reached for his. Well, not exactly his hand, but the golden ring around his middle finger, your fingers brushing over it.

“Does it have a meaning?” you asked quietly, eyes focused on the shiny object.

Rafe looked at your soft profile for a moment before saying, “Belonged to my mother.”

Something weird twisted in his chest as your fingers stopped playing with the ring, then pulling away, your hand returning to rest gently on his stomach.

“Shit’s not cursed,” he said with a smirk at your oddly weird reaction.

You let out a soft chuckle, your warm breath ghosting over his hand. “Yeah, no, I know.” After a moment, you added, “It’s really pretty.”

Like you, Rafe thought, but he didn’t dare say that shit out loud.

“Yeah, I guess,” he muttered instead, reaching back out for your bracelet and playing with a tiny dangling heart charm. Ken was whining about something in the background. “Not as pretty as this royal masterpiece, though. Must’ve belonged to some ancient queen or some shit.”

Weirdly enough, the more Rafe looked at it, the more he actually started to think it was pretty. Maybe that was just your effect though.

You let out another soft laugh and Rafe soaked it up like liquid coke. “Cersei Lannister would be jealous.”

Rafe blinked. “Who?”

For some reason, that made you shift.

Rafe’s hand slipped from your waist as you turned toward him, propping yourself up on your left elbow while your other arm rested lightly on his stomach.

“You’ve never seen Game of Thrones?” you asked like it was some kind of personal offense.

Your face was so close now, thanks to how you two had been lying, and Rafe’s eyes briefly flicked to your lips before locking back onto yours. He smiled, shaking his head. “Nah. Not my type of shit.”

You looked like he just insulted your whole family tree. “That ‘shit’ is a masterpiece,” you said, tilting your head. “Well, minus the last two seasons.”

“Oh, I’m sure the sex scenes are real cinematic works of art,” Rafe replied with a crooked grin.

Your nose scrunched up. “You’re probably one of those guys who worships American Psycho. Yeah, not taking your opinion into account.”

“Wow. Acting like you know other guys,” Rafe said, chuckling at your dramatic little scowl.

Okay but like, he did like that movie. Bateman was a cool dude.

You just kept staring at him, brows furrowed like you were trying to decipher some puzzle.

Rafe chuckled again, raising his brows at you with a grin. “What?”

His phone buzzed in his pocket but he ignored it. Probably just Kelce being a dumbass a few feet away.

“This show is a must-watch,” you said, tapping your index finger against his chest.

Oh? This sudden boldness? The way you were initiating physical contact, telling him what to do, trying to boss him around about what trashy TV show he had to watch?

Shouldn't turn him on as much as it did.

“Yeah?” he asked, smirking. “Well, shit. Then I have to watch it.” He couldn’t have said it more sarcastically, but you just nodded all serious.

"Yeah, you have to," you said, expression stern. "I’ll bring the DVDs to school tomorrow and then you’re gonna watch that shit. Two weeks max and no scratches on the discs."

No fucking way you actually insisted on this shit. Also, who the fuck even had DVDs these days?

Rafe scoffed, amused. "Or you leave that shit at home and show me there."

There. That was the reaction he’d been hoping for. That little twitch of your brows, the blink of your eyes, the way you instantly got all awkward again once the minions in your head started realizing what he’d just said.

Shit was hilarious as fuck.

Bzzrt. Seriously, could Kelce stop being so fucking annoying?

Huh.

When Rafe looked over to the right, both Kelce and Molly were cuddled up, giggling at the movie. So either it was crybaby Topper sobbing over Hall again, or Wheezie sending him another one of her weird-ass YouTube conspiracy vids.

“Well, yeah, I guess if you want to,” you said, smiling all awkward.

Rafe raised a brow. “Do you?”

Bzzrt. Rafe was gonna kill that fucker, whoever it was.

Your brows twitched, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the fabric of his polo as you let the question marinate.

A crooked smile formed on Rafe’s lips. No way the thought of watching that shit at your place made you uncomfortable but lying here with him was fine. Your brain was seriously fucked up.

But by now, he knew exactly how to shut up that one stupid minion in your head: just state the obvious. As much as it pissed Rafe off that he had to do this at all, he’d rather repeat himself a thousand times than go through another long-ass, exhausting convo with you spiraling over some completely unnecessary bullshit.

Bzzrt.

“Okay, let me say it again—” he started calm but firm, but you shook your head with a sheepish smile.

“No,” you let out a chuckle, then nodded. “I mean, yeah, I’d like that.”

That made this weird, fuzzy feeling bubble up in Rafe’s stomach, and the grin came naturally. “Okay, then—”

Bzzrt. Bzzrt.

Okay, that was fucking enough. Who the fuck was blowing up his phone like that?

“Fucking hell, wait a sec, some fucker’s spamming my phone,” he said with a frown and shifted slightly to the side, lifting his hip to grab his phone from his pocket.

Another annoying-ass bzzrt.

He lifted it to his face with his left hand but fucking Face ID bugged out, so he had to awkwardly move his right arm over your head to unlock it manually. That, in turn, made you back off slightly.

His chest clenched as your hand slid off his stomach, your head left his chest, and you shifted onto your back again, your gaze fixed back on Barbie.

Fuck. Seriously. This fucking fucker would catch hands.

Furrowing his brows, he unlocked his phone. And what. the. actual. fuck.

This fucking bitch.

What the actual fuck was she thinking, texting him this bullshit like he fucking cared? Shit. What the fuck?

Shit, hell no. This? This made his blood rush so fucking fast because not only had she chosen now to piss him off, she was also the fucking reason you’d pulled away from him. And Rafe wasn’t sure he could get you to move closer again.

But what really pushed him over the fucking edge was how she had the audacity to throw this passive-aggressive side dig at you. That was what really riled him up. This fucking bitch of all people trying to drag your name through the mud, acting like you weren’t worthy of him when it was the exact fucking—

FUCK.

Rafe could’ve thrown his phone at the screen. Why hadn’t he turned it off before this shitty-ass event? Why had he even bothered checking it?

Shit. And of all people, it was someone he didn’t give a single shit about.

Okay, no. Fuck her. He wasn’t putting up with Ruthie’s bullshit.

He sent her a middle finger emoji and made a mental note to tell that bitch off hard after the event.

He let out an annoyed breath, was about to turn off his phone and maybe try to coax you back to lying on his chest when, of course, Ruthie’s next message popped up.

Shit. He should just turn it off. But something in his gut told him something was off. That bitch lived to rile people up, but the tone of these next messages? It pissed him off too much to ignore.

Rafe shifted up higher, now sitting upright, knees pulled up, and tapped back into the chat.

Rafe stared blankly at the phone screen, fingers nearly digging into the display, pulse pounding, blood rushing through him while his chest rose and fell sharply, a vein popping in his neck as he tried to keep his fucking cool.

He was going to kill her.

He was going to fucking kill that bitch.

Because who the fuck did she think she was? Trying to toy with him like he was one of her stupid, cackling little bitches, when Ruthie’s stupid-ass family wasn’t even close to top-tier on Figure 8.

What did she—how the fuck had she even gotten a video like that? It didn’t make any fucking sense. Rafe always went into a backroom to deal AND do coke. He wasn’t a fucking idiot. He never did that shit in public.

HAH. Probably just fucking with him. Yeah. She was probably just trying to rile him up, fucking around, trying to ruin his moment with you.

Nah, it was probably just one dumb troll videos, fucking around like she always did. Joking, messing with people. Now she thought she could pull that same bullshit with Rafe.

He made sure his phone was muted and clicked on the video, pulse skyrocketing.

Come on. Fucking load.

Oh, that bitch was gonna catch hands for whatever troll video she’d sent. For whatever—

How.

He didn’t—

That didn’t make sense. That was—

No. Fucking shit, NO.

And yet, there it was. Some shaky video starting with Gracie’s front camera, that drunk bitch realizing she was filming herself. The POV switched to the back camera, focusing on two other girls in the kitchen, giggling and waving at the camera before downing shots.

The fucking video wasn’t even about Rafe. Except that it was.

Because in the background, you could see his back—him reaching into his pocket, prepping a line on the kitchen counter, and snorting it right off.

It could’ve been anybody if he hadn’t turned around at the last fucking second and rubbed his nose, the video cutting off as his full face came into frame.

FUCK.

Rafe didn’t even fucking remember that. He knew he’d done some lines that night—like two or three, okay maybe five—but all of them had been in the bathroom or Kelce’s guest room with nobody else around but himself, that fucker Chris, and some other losers.

Fucking hell.

He definitely didn’t remember being in the kitchen alone with Gracie of all people—the girl he’d dumped after a week of hooking up because she annoyed the living fuck out of him. Always clinging to Ruthie’s ass, always babbling about Ruthie. Ruthie this, Ruthie that. Like her whole life revolved around that bitch.

Shit, even during sex, she’d once asked to try a position because it was Ruthie’s favorite. Like—Jesus fuck—what the hell?

That had been the last straw. He’d packed his shit and left. Sure, Gracie had some insane mouth and hand game, but that? That had been beyond fucked.

That had been—

Shit. He remembered now.

He’d gone into the kitchen to look for you after doing lines with Chris and his loser crew in the guest room. But when he came back, you weren’t where he'd left you. Then he’d texted you and you’d replied you were in the bathroom with some guy which later turned out to be a typo for Molly’s name and FUCK.

Rafe had been so on edge, he hadn’t thought, and straight-up done a line in the kitchen.

Shit. Fucking shit.

And of all people, Ruthie had gotten her hands on the video.

Fuck. If she actually released that—

He didn’t give a shit what the school would think. They could kick him out, whatever. Even the cops, what could they do? They had a video, sure, but no real proof of it being coke. It showed him doing white line of something. Could've been flour. So what? Maybe an investigation, a fine. Whatever.

But his dad.

If his dad saw this video, Rafe was fucked. So fucking fucked. He’d—

He’d fucking kill that bitch.

Rafe didn’t even think. Rage and fury flooded his brain.

He set his phone aside, tossed his part of the blanket over your legs, and sat at the edge of the lounge bed, blood boiling as he reached for his shoes.

Oh, that bitch was lucky she wasn’t a guy. So fucking lucky. He would’ve knocked the fuck out of her, wiped that stupid grin off her face, knocked a few teeth loose and—

“Everything okay?”

Rafe stopped.

The turmoil inside him only worsened as he glanced back over his shoulder and met your pretty eyes, that soft glimmer in them. You had sat up too, hugging the blanket around your stomach.

Rafe just wanted to kick off his shoes again and slip right back under the blanket to your warm body. Feel your hand on his stomach, your head on his chest, breathe in your sweet perfume.

Then he remembered he'd only done that cursed line at the party because of you. Because you’d messed with his head with your cryptic-ass texts and your whole vibe and just—

Fuck.

You were the reason Ruthie had him in a fucking chokehold now. You were the reason Rafe had lost his goddamn mind to the point he’d done a stupid fucking line of coke right in the middle of some giggling girls filming him.

Rafe furrowed his brows, jaw clenched tight.

This anger toward you confused him because it clashed hard with that light feeling he’d had just seconds ago, lying there next to you.

"I’ll be right back," was all he said, his voice distant, and it pissed him off, even though he couldn’t stop it.

Your brows twitched and that just fueled his irritation and—

Shit. He could see it in your eyes. Little minions running around, confused and overwhelmed. Fuck, he really didn’t have time for that shit right now.

Rafe had to leave. If he didn’t find Ruthie soon, that fucking video would get out and he’d be fucked. He couldn’t deal with your anxiety spiral right now.

That was something you had to handle on your own now.

Once he’d gotten his other shoe on, he grabbed his phone and stood up, that familiar itch to snort a line crawling into his fingers.

And with that, he walked off, gaze fixed straight ahead, because he couldn’t bear to meet your sad eyes again.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

A girl. He’d been texting another girl.

You hadn’t seen who it was, hadn’t caught her name or profile pic, only the red heart at the bottom of the chat before he’d snatched his phone off the lounge bed and stormed off.

And now you were left alone.

The bed that had felt too small for the two of you earlier now looked way too big and empty. A deep clenching in your chest, a horrible twist in your stomach, and a storm of racing thoughts threatening to suffocate you.

You pulled the fluffy pink blanket higher, hugging your knees to your chest, staring straight ahead and clinging to the traces of warmth and scent he’d left on the fabric.

You didn’t even know what to think or feel. You two had just been so close moments ago—cuddling, the air light and sweet, Rafe actually relaxed.

But now? He’d looked so angry, so pissed off and mad, and you even got the sense that some of it had been directed at you, the way his voice had been so cold.

The fact that he’d even checked his phone to answer some girl while you two had been lying there so cozily... it hurt more than you wanted to admit. And you felt so stupid for feeling like this.

It’s not like he’s my boyfriend or anything.

Shit. And yet. Deep disappointment and irritation were bubbling up inside you. But even more than that: the question of who that girl was.

Who the hell was she to be sending Rafe little hearts? Who was she that he’d leave you behind to go chase after her? Who the fuck was she that he couldn’t even look at you as he stormed off?

Fuck. Now you were angry? This was so embarrassing and dumb. So many questions and wild theories gathering in your brain, each one worse than the last.

There were a lot of girls at the event tonight. You could rule out some random touron girl or a Pogue for obvious reasons. That just didn’t add up.

So... probably someone from school.

Maybe some ex-fwb who got jealous seeing you two together, or someone hoping to get back with him. Or maybe—

Ruthie was here. Cara had said she'd seen her with Topper. And where Ruthie was, Gracie usually wasn’t far.

Your heart sank.

She’d been one of his recent fwb situations. Sure, that had been a few months ago and hadn’t lasted long, as far as you could remember, but... could she be the one texting him?

Although, she hadn’t seemed particularly interested in Rafe at the party, or even at school, really. Even during the Truth or Dare game Friday night—she had sat on his right, yeah—but you remembered she hadn’t paid him any attention if you were being honest. Just giggling about Ruthie leading the game.

Besides, Gracie was pretty reserved and passive. Ruthie was the mouth of the duo, the one holding the whip.

So... maybe Ruthie had told Gracie to text Rafe? Just to mess with you two.

Okay, no. Wait. That’s... jesus christ. That’s borderline insane.

AHHHHH, were you really putting that much importance on yourself that you thought Ruthie would go out of her way to ruin something between you and Rafe? Which, what even was there to ruin?? Like it’s not like you two were a couple or anything, it was just this maybe kind of vibe, this budding friendship—

Ughhhhhhhh, strong secondhand embarrassment right here.

Sure, Ruthie didn’t seem to like you but to be fair, the feeling was mutual. But you clearly weren’t a threat to her. She had never paid you any attention before, so why would she now?

Okay ew, no. Scratch that thought immediately and pretend it never happened.

And besides—hello?? Rafe cuddled with you. CUDDLED.

No way he’d just throw that away to go make out with some random girl. Especially not when he’d seemed so at ease and relaxed with you. Like, come on. You didn’t want to act all full of yourself or anything but no way some ex-whatever-girl was more interesting than you right now.

HAH. That’s exactly what Cara would say. First she’d screech like a banshee at the fact that you and Rafe had cuddled, and then she’d say something like "Girl, no way he’s trading the comfort and safety of your boobs pressed to him for some dry-ass blowie from a rando bitch."

Wow. Thanks, imaginary Cara. #actuallyschizophrenic

Also, you kind of forgot the most important detail: Rafe had looked furious. Not just annoyed or moody, no, full-on I’m gonna beat someone up energy.

So maybe it wasn’t a girl at all. Maybe it was a guy texting him and the heart was some passive-aggressive way to piss him off.

Ohhhh, yeah, that would make sense.

You hadn’t seen Chris around, so maybe some other frat guy? Or maybe even a customer?

OH YEAH. Rafe dealt coke. Let’s not forget that. Maybe it was just some very urgent “business” emergency or whatever.

HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAH SURE PROBABLY THAT.

Then again, hahahahha, why would he go deal coke NOW, right in the middle of cuddling and watching a movie?? Like?????

UGH. Why couldn’t he have just told you why he was leaving? Then you wouldn’t be sitting here spiraling over something that was probably nothing. Maybe he was just taking a piss and the texts weren’t even related to why he'd left at all.

AHHHHHH so many possibilities, GONNA GO INSANE NOW HAHAHAHHA

No seriously. Chill. The minions in your brain were just going crazy for no reason (oh god am I actually adopting Rafe’s metaphors now welp).

AND ALSO, Rafe had said he’d be right back. No point spiraling over this right now, RIGHT?

You exhaled slowly and pulled the blanket up to your shoulders. Your left hand reached for the bracelet on your wrist, playing with the little dangling charms.

He’d come back soon. And then you could enjoy the rest of the movie, cuddled up with him again.

Except… he didn’t.

You spent the next thirty minutes alone on that lounge bed, hugging your blanket close, trying not to think about how humiliating and embarrassing you felt surrounded by all these other people who were sharing their lounge beds with someone else. Some of them had even watched Rafe leave, and now you looked like some stupid girl who just got ghosted.

And that’s exactly how you felt.

You didn’t even dare to look around, especially not to the right where Molly and Kelce were cuddling barely a meter away. This was just...

I'm so fucking stupid for believing this could’ve meant ANYTHING at all. That in some dumb, pathetic way you’d actually thought you meant something to Rafe after yesterday.

Am I just being angry for no reason?

You furrowed your brows, pulling your legs in even closer, tears threatening to rise, especially now that America Ferrera’s character was delivering this insanely powerful and gut-punching speech about women in the modern world.

And then the anger hit you at how right she was, at how fucking mistreated women were (not like that was news but right now it just hit differently), at the fact that Rafe had left you again, like he’d done at Kelce’s party to go deal coke, and now he was maybe balls deep in some girl in one of the toilet stalls while you were lying here alone like some stupid, naive idiot.

And now Ferrera was preaching about how women shouldn’t settle for less, how you should know your self-worth, about how society always expected you to be grateful for even the tiniest crumbs, even if they were against you.

LIKE NO. Fuck that. Fuck this. Fuck Rafe and his stupid—

The cushion beside you dipped. Startled, you looked away from the screen, expecting to see Rafe but instead, big brown eyes and a furrowed brow greeted you.

“You okay?” Kie asked, her tone laced with anger, though it didn’t feel directed at you.

You blinked, completely taken off guard seeing her here—and then realized, shit, you actually were crying.

You instinctively wiped your tears away, feeling ridiculously stupid and pathetic and gave her a forced smile.

“Yeah, yeah, all good,” you said, scooting a little to the right so she could sit properly.

But Kie didn’t move.

“Do you wanna come join us?” she asked, hesitating a bit before carefully adding, “I doubt he’s coming back.”

Your stomach twisted at hearing what you already knew deep down.

But facing everyone like this now? No way. You didn’t want their pity or well-meaning sympathy right now. So you shook your head, forcing another smile.

“No, I… it’s fine. I’m good here,” you said, and you both knew you were lying.

Kie held your gaze for a moment, her expression stern. Then she moved away from the edge and sat down next to you in the spot that had been Rafe’s.

Somehow that made your chest tighten.

“It’s not fine,” Kie said quietly, shaking her head. “Rafe doesn’t get to play the asshole whenever he feels like it.”

You knew she was right, and yet…

“I don’t think he means it badly,” you said and immediately questioned yourself for saying that.

Kie clearly thought the same, judging by the way she looked at you. “He left you here. Don’t tell me you’re defending his shitty behavior.”

“No, but—” You blinked. How did she even know he’d been gone in the first place? “Did you see him?”

For a brief second, an image of Kie and Rafe together somewhere on the event grounds popped into your head but you quickly pushed that absurd thought away.

“He almost walked me and Cleo over when we came back from the snack bar,” Kie explained. “Seemed like he’d just come from the toilet stalls.” She furrowed her brows. “Then he pretty much stormed off toward the exit. Looked like he was about to kill someone.”

…

Oh.

He left.

Not just for 30 minutes. No, he actually left.

The feeling that rose in your chest… you couldn’t even describe it. It just felt hollow. Like a deep, deep hole that had just gotten even deeper after hearing Kie’s words.

You didn’t even— what the hell was going on with him? You didn’t understand. This just seemed off. Sure, his mood swings were completely unpredictable but going from cuddling straight to ditching the entire event?

Maybe something had happened? Like a family emergency? But then again, Sarah was still here. If something had happened, wouldn’t she have been alerted too?

All of it felt so strange. And somehow, your gut was telling you something bad must’ve happened, something that had rattled Rafe enough to make him bolt like that. And now you felt bad for thinking all those horrible things about him earlier.

“Did you see if anyone was with him?” you asked anyway, dreading the answer.

Kie curled her lips and shook her head. “To be honest, I just came straight here. I figured he didn’t tell you he'd leave. He’s an ignorant asshole.”

God, Kie was way sweeter than you’d initially thought.

“I don’t get why he’d leave without at least saying something,” you said, brows furrowing. “That’s just… I don’t get it.”

Kie made a bitter grimace. “There’s nothing to get. He’s always been like that. There’s no changing him. Trust me, okay?”

That… didn’t sound like someone who just disliked a guy. It sounded like someone who had history with him. Which made you feel all kinds of weird. Like you were talking to some ex of his, even though you didn’t actually know what had gone down between them. If anything had even gone down.

And because you didn’t want to make assumptions, you just said it straight out: “That sounds like you two used to be close.”

Kie’s brows twitched and she looked away for a second, as if debating whether to open up. In the background, the Barbies were currently executing their plan to take back Barbieland.

“Not in the way you might think,” she finally said, hugging her knees up to her chest. “When I first became friends with Sarah as kids, Rafe was always hanging around too. Back then he wasn’t such a massive asshole. More like a friendless loser, honestly.” She let out a small laugh. “He’d always crash our hangouts, trying to annoy us—me especially—but once I put him in his place, he was… actually kind of okay to be around.” A distant smile touched her lips. “I’m an only child but I guess he was the closest thing I had to an older brother.”

Her smile faded quickly, that stern expression returning. “And when their mom died, everything just… changed. I mean, of course it did. But Rafe… he suddenly seemed to hate Sarah. He got more aggressive. More distant. But she was my best friend, so obviously I stuck by her when it felt like he wanted me to pick sides. It only got worse when I joined the KA in ninth grade.” Kie grimaced. “He grew almost obsessed with trying to turn me against her. So I put a stop to it. Eventually, he backed off. But it’s Rafe,” she said bitterly, “if he can ruin someone’s day, he will.”

She held your gaze, a kind of bittersweetness behind her eyes. “I’m not saying he’s toying with you. Actually, I’m pretty convinced he’s horribly into you and just doesn’t know how to deal with that because it freaks him out.” A small, frowning shake of her head. “Still doesn’t excuse his shitty behavior.”

You just stared at her, kind of baffled. Only the sound of Ryan Gosling’s Ken singing “Push” while playing guitar in the background grounded you, which, disturbingly, kinda described Rafe's dynamic with you a little too well.

The fact that she and Rafe had been kind of sibling-like once… that was unexpected, but honestly very sweet. And the idea that the three of them—Kie, Sarah, Rafe—had once been some little trio? That hit in a way you hadn’t expected.

And here you’d been feeling jealous like some stupid crazy bitch.

But what really threw you off were her last words. Hearing her say—she, who had been so skeptical just the day before, clearly judging your whole thing with Rafe—that she actually believed he might actually…

GOD, YOU COULDN’T EVEN THINK IT. Didn’t want to. Scared it might jinx it.

Kie's features softened slightly when she saw your expression, letting out a sigh. “I can tell you genuinely seem to like him, and I think you could actually be really good for him in the long run.” She raised her brows, amused. “JJ said Rafe only almost decked him earlier when you'd talked.”

That made you chuckle too.

“That’s why my only advice to you is,” she continued, her expression turning serious again, “Don’t let his bullshit slide. Ever. Rafe is a very difficult person but whatever he’s dealing with doesn’t excuse being an asshole.” Her features softened again as her eyes landed on your bracelet. “Still, I believe he has so much to give to the right person.” She met your gaze again. “Maybe it's you.”

JESUS CHRIST. This was just... A LOT.

Her spilling some crazy backstory about their past, the bittersweet tone in her voice when she talked about him, the fucking fact that she thought Rafe might actually have caught feelings for you AND HOLY FUCKING SHIT, her thinking YOU might actually be good for him?

God, and on top of that, her still seeming to care about him even after their falling out, despite how much she’d learned to dislike him…

It just hurt even more because it felt like she didn’t want you to go through what she had, and AHHHHHH I CANNOT.

You hugged your legs closer, eyeing her, completely stunned. “That... I don’t even…” you started, but nothing felt more fitting right now than: “Thank you.” You smiled, genuinely. “For making me feel better and… for sharing this with me.” You let out a sheepish little laugh, playing with the charms on your bracelet. “And for looking out for me in the first place.”

Kie’s mouth twitched into a smile, her gaze flicking away from yours for a second. “To be honest, I didn’t know what to make of it—how you seemed to actually like Rafe. It’s just… he’s turned into this cocky, pushy, aggressive guy, and I couldn’t really believe someone like you would hang out with him willingly.”

She shook her head and met your eyes again. “But then I saw you two together on the event field earlier, and there was this calmness to him.” A bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. “It’s like he lets himself relax when he’s around you.”

OKAY BYE. THAT WAS THE FINAL BLOW. HOLY SHIT.

All of this spilling out of Kie, It was just... a lot to process.

Not to mention the entire situation in the first place, and as much as you appreciated her words, her presence, everything, all you could think about was how badly you wanted to go after Rafe now. Check the parking lot or wherever he’d gone because he definitely hadn’t gone home. You all arrived with Topper’s car.

But you stayed put.

As much as your heart was aching to run after him, to find out what was going on, to understand why he’d left you like that, hell, even just to talk it out, you didn’t want to leave Kie behind.

She didn’t seem like the type to just open up easily or willingly to some girl she’d known for a day, so this felt like a rare moment—something real between you two. And you definitely didn’t want to pull a Rafe move on her.

“I can’t believe I’m putting up with his bullshit either,” you finally said, a smile tugging at your lips. “But I guess... part of me also relaxes around him. I don’t know, he just… helps me get out of my head.” You chuckled softly. “Even if he does it in the worst way possible.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, thinking about how hurt he’d looked earlier. “And I’m far from a saint either. I have a huge overthinking problem, and it messes with my relationships a lot. Honestly, I’m surprised he still sticks around, considering I drive him up the wall most of the time.”

That got a genuine laugh out of Kie and she shook her head. “Sounds like you’re handling him just right then.”

You smiled, the heaviness in your chest easing a little. Grateful for Kie’s honesty and her presence.

And when you noticed the goosebumps on her arms, a soft breeze blowing through her brown locks, you immediately reached for the fluffy pink blanket and held it up for her.

Shit, you hadn’t even noticed she was probably freezing. Oops.

Kie eyed you for a second, something like hesitation in her gaze, but then she smiled and scooted closer, grabbing one end of the blanket and pulling it up to her chest.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, adjusting into a more comfortable position, her shoulder now resting against yours.

That somehow marked the end of the whole Rafe conversation.

The next twenty minutes were spent snuggled up under the blanket, sharing warmth, giggling about how pathetic Ken had been at the end (Kie compared him to Rafe which just made you laugh harder), snacking on Rafe’s leftover nachos and your own snacks, and almost (definitely) crying during the crazy emotional montage of Barbie experiencing girlhood and humanity in a speedrun. You were pretty sure you even heard Kelce sobbing next to you.

No better way to bond than over Barbie.

After the movie ended, the screen showed a 45-minute countdown until Transformers would start. In the meantime, most people got up to stretch, run to the restroom, grab new snacks and drinks, and some even left—they’d only come for Barbie.

You and Kie had left the blanket on your seats and headed straight to the stalls (you made sure to take a wide detour around Kelce and Molly because the last thing you needed was them asking questions about Rafe or making comments about you two cuddling).

Inside the stall, you pushed down all your anger and confusion and decided to send Rafe a quick text because, more than anything, you were actually worried.

Ughhh, is that too clingy? PROBABLY.

But you didn’t care. He’d spammed your entire phone this afternoon with cursed and suggestive pics, so you could definitely drop one little concerned text. Besides, it had been almost an hour since he'd left, and the fact that he hadn’t sent even a small update was kind of weird.

Rude. Ignorant. Definitely an asshole move. But somehow Kie had eased your thoughts so much that it didn’t feel like he left because he regretted cuddling with you, or ran off to find another girl, no, it felt like something must’ve happened. Something serious.

And your gut told you that if Rafe was spooked enough to leave like that, it had to be bad (And you had your dad’s gut and his was never wrong. So that had to mean something, at least)

Outside the toilet stalls, girls were giggling and chatting about the movie, laughing about the Kens, quoting America Ferrera’s monologue, and praising the message of the film.

You even recognized Cara’s voice when you stepped out to wash your hands.

“I swear, I dated a guy exactly like that once,” she said. “He literally played the same song and stared at me the exact same way. Most horrendous moment of my life.”

More laughter followed.

You chuckled to yourself, shouldered your bag, and took a deep breath. This was going to be the most awkward and interrogative interaction of your life.

As you made your way through the crowd of girls still in line, stepping out of the restroom cabin, all eyes snapped toward you the second you joined the group.

Legitimately everyone was there. The Pogues, Cara, even Kelce and Molly. Surprised Topper wasn’t there too.

Great.

Everyone was here—except the one person you desperately wanted to see.

Just smile. Prepare for some horrible question like Where’s Rafe?, Did you guys fight?, Why’d he leave?, Kelce said he saw you cuddling, blah blah blah.

UGHHHHH.

But to your surprise, they stayed quiet. Smiling in that way that said we know what happened but we’re not gonna overwhelm you.

And worst of all? Every single face was filled with pity. The last thing you wanted.

Except Kie's. She had this genuine smile, one that said don’t worry, I made sure they wouldn’t bombard you with questions.

“Alriiiight,” JJ said, clapping his hands. “Shots?”

Everyone seemed to agree.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

“…and then he left,” you finished your little recap of tonight’s events as you and the girls were sitting at a high table on barstools near the bar at the edge of the event venue.

The boys were sitting a few tables down, laughing loudly at some nonsense. Kelce and JJ had clicked immediately. Not surprising at all, considering both of them were party animals with the same extroverted energy.

Anyway. You hadn’t really had a choice not to tell the girls about your night with Rafe because they’d been staring at you for the past ten minutes like you were a bomb about to explode. And also, they’d tried acting normal in a painfully awkward way. Failed miserably.

You’d asked them to just listen first and not interrupt, though, because otherwise it would turn into an endless back-and-forth, and you hadn’t even wanted to talk about this in the first place.

All five of them stared at you blankly.

And then Cara exploded. “YOU FUCKING CUDDLED?!”

Jesus Christ—that was probably loud enough for half of the North Side to hear.

“Did you not hear the part where he just left her?” Cleo said with an amused expression.

Cara nodded wildly. “Absolute asshole move, yeah, I’m definitely gonna kill him next time I see him but—” She shook her head and gestured her hands in your direction, nearly knocking over Kie’s drink. “YOU CUDDLED. I—That’s—Someone call 911, I think I’m having a heart attack.”

You and Sarah chuckled while Cleo and Kie just shook their heads.

“He wasn’t even watching the movie,” Molly said with a smile, playing with the straw in her mojito. “Every time I looked over, he was just gazing at her.”

WHAT.

Cara shrieked and almost fell off her barstool.

“And yet he still left,” Kie said dryly, shaking her head with a grimace. “Can we please not gloss over that.”

Molly nodded. “I’m really sorry about that. I wanted you to come over and join me and Kelce, but he insisted Rafe would be back soon. And when I did want to get up, Kiara was already with you.”

Um... yeah, you were pretty glad you hadn’t joined Molly and Kelce. That lounge bed was definitely too small for three people, and you absolutely didn’t feel like third-wheeling like some loser.

Still, the thought counted.

“Thanks, but it’s all good,” you said with a smile.

Sarah shifted in her seat, brows furrowed. “I just can’t believe he’d leave you like that. And you really didn’t see who messaged him?”

You shook your head. “No. Just that most of the texts seemed to be from the one texting him, and at the end I just saw a red heart in one of the messages. That’s it.”

“That’s so weird,” Sarah said. “I honestly can’t think of anyone that could’ve been. Maybe Wheeze needed to be picked up from Theo’s? He does live pretty far from Tannyhill. Maybe Dad or Sasha couldn’t go. That could explain why he looked so pissed, like you said. Maybe he was just mad the night got ruined.”

You assumed Sasha was the Camerons’ housekeeper.

You tilted your head. “But then why wouldn’t he just say that? Like, that wouldn’t even have been a problem. And besides, he said he’d be right back.”

“And also, how would he even have left?” Cara added. “They all arrived with Topper's car."

Sarah nodded. “Oh right.” She tilted her head. “Did he maybe ask him for the keys?”

Cara shook her head with a nope look. “It’s his mom’s Range Rover. I’m surprised he even got to drive it. No way he’d let Rafe take it.”

You all just stared at her.

“What?” she said. “He whined to me about it at the party on Friday, okay?”

Uh-huh.

“Well, have you texted him?” Cleo asked you, crossing her arms on the table. “Seems like the easiest way to find out what’s going on.”

You nodded. “Yeah, but he hasn’t answered yet.”

And right on cue, your phone buzzed in your purse.

Your heart skipped a beat, pulse shooting up, everyone watched you expectantly as you pulled your phone out but that feeling quickly faded.

“Topper,” you said, disappointment leaking into your voice. Then you picked up. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey,” he said on the other end, voice sounding weird. “Do you have a minute?”

Aaaand your heart was back in the race. “Uh… sure, I guess. Where are you? Everything okay?” Is Rafe with you? you almost asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, but he didn’t sound convincing. “I’m at the archway.”

You blinked and looked over your shoulder, spotting his silhouette—at least you thought it was him—at the far end of the venue. He seemed to be alone.

“Okay, uh, we’re at the bar,” you said, turning back around. “Don’t you wanna come over? Kelce is here too.”

A pause. Then: “Cara’s with you, right?”

Instinctively, your eyes met hers. “Yeah.”

“Um,” he gave a strained chuckle, “I’d rather not then.”

You nearly frowned. Was he seriously still sulking because she didn’t accept his ride offer?

Whatever.

“Alright, I’ll be right there,” you said, and the girls shot you weird looks.

You could practically hear Topper exhale in relief. “Thanks.”

With that, you hung up and shouldered your bag.

“What?” Cara asked, frowning. “He’s afraid of coming over here or what?”

Sarah and Molly chuckled.

You shrugged and slid off the stool. “No idea. I’ll be right back. Maybe he knows something about Rafe.”

Cara was already about to protest, making a move to join you, but you shook your head with an amused smile. “Stay here. I got this.”

“Tell him his drama queen behavior is such a turn-off,” she muttered, and the others laughed in agreement.

As you made your way across the venue, you gripped the strap of your bag tighter. Your hands were clammy with nerves, unsure what exactly Topper needed to talk to you about. And now that you were away from the fireplace at the bar, a cold night breeze whipped across your bare arms and you just now realized how much the temperature had dropped.

Great. And Rafe had the ticket for your jacket at the coat check.

Even though you were cold, kinda annoyed that Topper hadn’t come over himself, and hadn’t even said what this was about, you still managed a smile as you finally reached him at the archway.

“Hey,” you said. “Everything okay? What’s going on?”

Why was he standing here alone? Hadn’t he spent the whole evening with Ruthie’s girl squad? And most importantly: Did something happen to Rafe? Because the tension in his smile definitely hinted at something serious.

Topper nodded. “Yeah, uh, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Actually, no.” He pressed his lips together and sighed. “I feel stupid for even asking you to come over here. I mean I don’t wanna drag you into something you’re not really involved in.”

Again, you almost frowned. So this wasn’t about Rafe. It was about Cara.

Great :)

“But,” he continued, “I’m just… I’m confused. About Cara, I mean. Her whole vibe.”

Then why don’t you just talk to her??? (Okay girl, calm down, no need to take it out on the poor guy who’s probably just looking for some clarity. Just like you.)

You hugged yourself from the cold and tilted your head. “I get why you're irritated, but honestly, I think it’s best if you just talk to her yourself. I’m really not in a position to speak for her.”

Topper nodded. “I know and I—I wanted to but she’s either been with Sarah or Maybank the whole night, and I didn’t wanna approach her with those two around.”

Okay, JJ you understood, but Sarah? That just seemed like a lame excuse. Oh, wait— didn’t Rafe mention during his little hate speech yesterday that Sarah tried to turn Topper against him too? So maybe there was some history between them.

“Well, she’s free now,” you said, rubbing your arms. “Want me to go get her?”

Please say yes, it’s freezing out here.

Topper’s brows twitched and he scratched his chin. “You think she’d even wanna talk to me?”

If you keep being this self-pitying, then probably not. Holy shit, girl, calm the fuck down. This was Rafe infiltrating your brain.

Wait—

RAFE!

Your heart stopped when you spotted him a few meters away, coming from the parking lot with the biggest scowl known to man. He made a quick stop at the register, probably because the cashier had called him over. Probably wanted to check his ticket.

Your gaze flicked back to Topper, pulse racing now, adrenaline shooting high. You nodded quickly.

“Yeah, yeah! Sure,” you said, probably grinning like a maniac. "Actually, I think she’d really love it if you went up to her. I mean, Cara likes it when guys take initiative.”

UGHHHH that sounded so stupid, no way he would—

“You think so? I don’t—”

Another quick nod. “Yeah, definitely. You can trust me on this.”

PLEASE JUST GO, NEED TO TALK TO RAFE.

Topper hesitated, then nodded with a somewhat relieved smile. “Yeah, okay.” He took a step forward, but then paused, eyeing you in confusion. “Aren’t you also—”

“Yo, Top!”

Both you and Topper turned, and your heart plummeted as you saw the furious look on Rafe’s face while he marched toward you. His expression twisted into an irritated, almost maniacal grin locked solely on Topper.

Topper didn’t even get the chance to react before Rafe shoved him in the chest. “You’re a fucking shitface,” Rafe hissed, not even sparing you a glance.

“Hey, man, what—what’s going on?” Topper looked totally confused, rubbing his chest after stumbling back a step.

Rafe scoffed, tapping his chest with both hands. “You trying to fuck me over or some shit, huh? Trying to act like some little backstabbing piece of shit?”

You just stood there, frozen, completely stunned by the whole situation. A few people nearby had already started glancing over.

Topper shook his head, brows furrowed. “What the fuck are you even talking about?”

“Oh, real funny.” Rafe clicked his tongue, shaking his head slightly. Then, without warning, he stepped forward, grabbing Topper by the collar and towering over him. “I think you know damn well what the fuck I’m talking about.”

Topper blinked, clearly completely thrown. “No, dude. I have no idea what you—”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Rafe said, nodding, the corners of his mouth twitching downward. There was something seriously unsettling about his tone. He gave Topper a hard shake and raised his voice: “You think I’m fucking stupid, huh? You think I—”

“Get the fuck off me,” Topper snapped, shoving Rafe’s hands off. “You’re coked up, dude. I don’t even fucking know what you’re on about—”

Rafe’s fist connected with Topper’s face with a sickening crack. A pained groan escaped Topper as he stumbled sideways, his hand flying to his cheek. “What the fuck?!”

Horrified, you gasped. A few girls nearby even shrieked.

But Rafe didn’t stop. He stepped forward again, looking like he was about to beat Topper to a pulp but instead grabbed his collar once more, just about to open his mouth when:

“Rafe!”

Kelce’s voice rang out suddenly, with John B and Sarah right behind him.

Rafe’s head snapped up and he scoffed, shaking his head. “Shiiit. Is this some kind of fucking joke?” He shoved Topper away and threw a mocking gesture toward Kelce. “You too now, huh?” He let out something like a chuckle but it sounded more like a disbelieved scoff. Tapping his chest again, he said, “Both of you trying to fuck with me, huh?”

“Dude, you need to chill out,” Kelce said, and it was wild how weird his voice sounded when he was serious. "What's going on?"

Rafe tilted his head, and everything about him screamed danger. “Chill, yeah? Just like you’re chillin’ with fucking pogue rats now, huh?”

“Rafe,” Sarah said, and his head immediately snapped toward her. “Seriously, you need to—”

“Oh, don’t you fucking dare tell me what to do,” Rafe snapped, stepping toward her with a shake of his head.

John B stepped in front of Sarah, chin raised, and Rafe stopped in his tracks with another scoff, rubbing over his nose with a sniff. He nodded. “Sweet. Yeah. That’s fucking sweet. Y’all a big happy fucking family now or what?”

“Dude,” Kelce said, stepping in and grabbing Rafe’s shoulder but Rafe immediately shoved his hand away.

Kelce raised his hands and backed off. “You need to get your shit together, bro.”

Two mean-looking security guys were already heading straight toward the commotion. The whole nearby area had quieted down, all eyes on you.

Rafe didn’t give a damn. His gaze was now locked back on John B.

Oh god—and the security guys looked like the kind who’d knock someone out first and ask questions later. They were heading straight for Rafe.

“Step back! Now!” one of them yelled.

Jesus Christ, and that idiot just turned to them with a provocative smile on his face, clearly ready to stir up more shit but you couldn’t bear to watch him get beat up again.

Heart pounding like mad, you stepped up to Rafe, hesitantly reaching for his arm. Your heart sank to your stomach when he grabbed your wrist tightly with his other hand, probably thinking it was Topper or Kelce.

“Rafe,” you said, voice shaking.

His head snapped toward you, and for a second, you thought he’d push you away but the moment his blown-wide pupils met your eyes, his grip immediately loosened, his brows twitching as he stared at you.

One of the security guards was about to grab Rafe, but you quickly shook your head, letting go of his arm and stepping halfway in front of him, giving the grim-looking guy a nervous smile. “It’s okay, he—we’re leaving.”

“No, the fuck, we’re not.”

You turned back to Rafe, planting your hands firmly on his chest as he tried to step forward again. You looked up at him, pleading, hoping he’d have some shred of sense left.

“Please,” you whispered, your heart hammering at the fury in his eyes. “If they call the cops, and they see you like this…”

They’d know immediately he was on something. They’d run tests—oh god, and if he had a baggie on him, it’d be over. He’d be arrested, charged, investigated, and—

You felt the warmth of his chest slip from beneath your hands as he took a step back. With a big, crooked grin, he threw his hands up for a second, gaze still locked on the security behind you.

“Chill the fuck out, aight?” he said, then let his hands drop, his expression twisting into a scowl as he looked first at Topper, then Kelce, then Sarah. He shook his head, his voice full of scorn and detachment—almost not even sounding like him when he said: “Fucking backstabbing rats. All of you. You fit right into this little play-pretend family.”

Everyone just watched him storm off in stunned silence, completely speechless.

“If your friend comes back again, he’s getting more than a warning,” one of the security guards said.

John B mumbled something in response, but you didn’t even register it, the blood was rushing in your ears too loud, your heart pounding wildly, eyes fixed on Rafe’s back as he disappeared through the entrance.

Kelce stepped forward and said something like “I’ll go after him,” but you were faster.

You didn’t think. Didn’t give yourself the chance to second-guess. Didn’t even hear Kelce call after you as you took off after Rafe.

Gripping the strap of your bag tightly, you rushed through the archway, past the entrance and register. Your cheeks flushed with adrenaline as you stepped into the gravel parking lot, scanning frantically for his familiar silhouette.

The warm lights of the lanterns and the cool milky hue of the moon mixed together, bathing the parked cars in a spectacle of gold and silver surfaces.

And then—there!

Just straight ahead, a silhouette walking off.

You rushed after him, feet hitting the gravel path, every step in sync with the pounding of your heartbeat.

“Rafe,” you called after him, a weird feeling spreading in your chest as he didn’t stop.

You pushed down the anxiety and doubts and called his name again. “Wait. Please.”

The silhouette came to a halt.

Broad shoulders lit by the golden glow of the streetlamp hanging directly above him. His whole posture tense, defiant and alert all at once. You could see his strained breathing in the way his upper body moved.

You pressed your lips together, nerves buzzing with unease. You’d never seen him like this. All coked-up and furious. Even punching his friend in the face.

The fear of what he might do if you said the wrong thing clashed hard with your concern and the aching need to reach out to him.

Heart hammering, you forced yourself to shove all of that down and stepped closer, half-circling him, knuckles white from how tightly you clutched your purse strap.

Your heart sank straight through the ground when you stepped around him and saw his face, expecting a frown, a deep scowl, rage and irritation in his gaze but instead:

Tired, red eyes. Glossy. Pupils so wide they seemed to choke out the blue of his irises. And adding to the heart-wrenching sight was the purple bruise blooming on his right cheek, still fresh enough to be illuminated like a spotlight in the streetlamp’s golden glow.

Physically and mentally, Rafe looked completely wrecked.

“What happened?” you asked quietly, a silent whisper, scared that even the smallest push might make him crash out. “Are you okay?”

Your chest tightened as he looked at you with such cold distance it almost resembled contempt.

Rafe scoffed, more a tired exhale than anything. “Do me a fucking favor and go back inside. I’ve had enough of fake bitches tonight.”

Your brows twitched, the words hitting like a punch to the gut but you swallowed the sting and the anger. You knew he didn’t mean it like that. He was just pushing you away.

“Rafe, what’s going on?” you asked again, a little more confident now, voice soft, searching his cold eyes for some kind of answer.

He let out an annoyed breath, rolling his eyes so hard you saw the whites. As his gaze locked with yours again, it was sharp and unsettling. He tapped his temples with his fingers. “I’m serious. I have zero patience for your anxiety bullshit right now.”

You blinked, stunned. Did he seriously think you came out here for some kind of reassurance? And what the fuck did he mean by ‘anxiety bullshit’?

“I don’t—I’m not here because of that,” you said with furrowed brows, unable to keep the edge out of your voice. You hugged your arms tightly around yourself, partly from the cold, partly just to soothe yourself. “I just... You left so suddenly, and I—what happened?”

Rafe shook his head and raised his chin, face twisted in irritation. “Okay, what the fuck is this? Some pathetic attempt to squeeze gossip out of me? Did Sarah send you here so you can giggle with your new little girl squad later?”

“What?” You stared at him, baffled. What the actual fuck was going on with him? “No! I’m just worried. This is—I mean, I’m just trying to understand what's going on.”

Rafe let out a bitter laugh, gesturing back toward the event hall. “Why don’t you go back inside to Topper then and ask that fucker, huh? Looked like you two were getting real cozy right now.”

Seriously, what the actual fuck.

You didn’t even let your brain begin to process what that implied. You just blinked at him, stunned, brows knitting together as your own frustration started to rise.

“We were just talking,” you said, voice tight. “He asked me—”

“Yeah, talking alone far from everyone else,” Rafe cut in, tapping his chest with an angry hand. “Does everyone think I’m some fucking—”

“He was whining to me about Cara, okay!” you snapped, totally done with his deflections and accusations. “He called me over because he was scared to join us at the bar or whatever, I don’t know.” You shook your head in disbelief. “I—do I look like—I mean what does that even have to do with Topper?”

“Nothing that fucking concerns you,” Rafe shot back with a scowl, eyes so cold it was like he didn’t even recognize you.

Why couldn’t he just say what was wrong?

Instead, he threw all his anger at you for no damn reason. Almost like...

Now you tapped your chest. “It does fucking concern me because it feels like I’m the reason you left.”

Shit.

Your lips clamped shut the second the words left your mouth. Fuck. You really didn’t mean to make this about you. Fuckfuckfuck.

“I’m just—” you started again, but stopped as Rafe’s face twisted into full-blown irritation and disbelief.

“You think this is about you?” His voice was razor sharp, slicing down your spine. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair, scoffing. "Seriously, this constant whining and need for fucking reassurance is pissing me the fuck off.”

He spat the last words like venom, making you flinch at his sudden shift toward you. Just an hour ago you’d been curled up together, laughing. Now he was a completely different person.

His brows twitched as he stared at your shocked expression, mouth opening, probably to throw more shit at you, but you’d had enough. Your conversation with Kie flashed through your mind.

“You know what,” you snapped. “Yeah, this is about me. Because you don’t get to treat me however the fuck you want just because you feel like it. First all sweet and affectionate and now whatever the hell this is.” You let out a shaky breath, tapping your temples. “You call me crazy but what the fuck is going on with you? It's fucked getting me to cozy up to you and then vanishing without a word. I just—it's fucking humiliating getting left behind like that.”

Rafe grimaced, voice low. “I fucking came back, didn’t I?”

Was he for fucking real?

“Yeah, sure,” you said dryly. “You came back all coked-up and then punched your friend. Like, did you seriously dip just to snort something? If your addiction is—”

“You better shut your fucking mouth now,” Rafe snapped, eyes narrowed, taking a step forward. His stare was so intense, real fear prickled down your spine. But he just shook his head. “You have no fucking clue what the fuck you’re talking about.”

You had to fight the urge to step back, clutching your arms tighter. Despite the fear and irritation swelling in your chest, your next words came out quiet, shaky around the edges. “I’m just worried, okay? Something clearly happened in the last hour that set you off. I’m not trying to be nosy—”

“You are,” Rafe barked, pupils blown wide like black discs. He grimaced, brows tight. “This has nothing to do with you, alright?” His voice cracked into something almost desperate. “Now stop pissing me off and get your ass back inside.” His hand went into his pants pocket for a second, then shoved a tag with the number 69 into your view. “And take that shit too.”

“No.”

Rafe’s scowl deepened so much you genuinely thought he might throw the tag at your face. “You really wanna test my fucking patience right now?”

You didn’t move. Didn’t even look at the tag. Just stared at him, shaking your head softly. “Something happened. And you don’t look okay at all. You don’t have to tell me what it was, but—”

“Jesus Christ, do you ever stop talking?” Rafe cut in, shaking his head with a bitter laugh, tapping his temples again with a crooked smile. “Shit up here can’t be that bad.”

Fuck. That.

"You're an asshole," you snapped, fury taking over your voice. "And being on drugs doesn’t excuse your shitty behavior."

He opened his mouth, but you cut him off, brows furrowed deep. "And attacking my insecurities and issues is disgusting and pathetic, especially when all I was trying to do was understand what's going on with you."

You shook your head with a scowl, stepping closer and pointing at his chest, voice furious. "And I’m so sick of your constant mood swings. I get it if you’re having a bad day, but I’m not letting you take it out on me." You hugged your arms around yourself again, stepping back, heart clenching painfully at the shift in his expression—genuine irritation written all over his face. "So if that’s your idea of what a friendship is supposed to look like, then I sure as hell don’t wanna be part of it."

You didn’t even wait for a reply, too afraid you’d start crying at whatever awful, hurtful comment he’d throw at you next. So you grabbed your bag strap tight, heart pounding and screaming, and turned around to go rejoin the others, doing everything you could not to let the tears fall.

I’m so stupid. So, so stupid for thinking I could handle him. So fucking stupid for running after him and—

"Don’t leave."

You froze in your tracks as those two small words hit the air, his voice shaky and desperate, laced with fear and frustration. It felt like someone had just reached into your chest and torn your heart right out.

And then the second bullet hit, even harder and more painful, as it followed the first one with a quiet "Please."

The final blow hit you as you turned around. Standing under the soft glow of the streetlamp was the shilouette of a boy, looking so deeply wrecked and broken, it cut right through your ripped-out heart.

Wide eyes staring back at you, desperation etched into every line of his face as he rubbed his forehead with a fist.

"I… I just can’t help it, okay," he said, frustrated, his expression twisted in pain as he tapped his temples aggressively. "My head, it’s— I know something’s wrong up here, I just…" Now rubbing his temples, hands clenched into fists, eyes shut tight. "It’s like my body’s… like it's always two steps ahead of my brain, and it's out of my control what I say or do."

His face contorted as he let his hands drop and gestured to his chest, gravel crunching under his shoes as he stepped closer. "I’m not a bad guy, okay?" he said, desperation bleeding into his voice and his expression, hands now motioning to you. "I’m just— it’s just… I need you to understand I didn’t mean to hurt or attack you. Or lash out at you. In moments like these I just…" Palm rubbing one eye with a grimace, then tapped one finger at his head. "It’s like someone else's taking over. And this whole fucked-up situation has me so on edge anyway, and I—I know I shouldn’t have taken it out on you and I don’t—"

"Rafe."

Your voice was as soft as it could be, and yet he still looked like he was bracing for impact.

"It’s okay. Really," you said with a sad smile, shaken to your core by what had just spilled out of this boy (again). "I know what it’s like to have a messy head. You don’t need to—"

"No, you don’t understand," he interrupted, shaking his head in frustration, tapping his temple again. "It’s not like your little minions running around spreading bullshit. It’s--it's more like there’s just two of them, and when one knocks the other out, I’ve got zero control over what he does." He shook his head again, face twisting as he rubbed one temple with his knuckles. "And I don’t want you to leave just because I can’t keep that fucker’s mouth shut."

A tiny smile tugged at your lips at the comparison, though it pained you deeply to see how much he was struggling inside his own mind. Even worse was the fear of being left behind that was written all over his face.

"I’m not leaving," you finally said quietly, chest aching as his eyes widened. "Like I said, I know what it’s like not feeling safe in your own head. I don’t care about this ‘issue’ you think you have going on. I’ve handled you this far, haven’t I?" You let out a strained chuckle before your expression grew serious again. "But I need you to talk to me. Whenever you feel like this… asshole minion of yours is about to take the lead, you need to say so." You raised your brows just a little, letting out another soft chuckle. "Maybe I can send over one of my own to knock some sense into that idiot."

"And I also need you to know," you continued, "whatever’s bothering you, or whatever’s weighing you down, you can share with me. You don’t have to let it eat you up just because you’re too proud or scared to let someone else in. That’s what friends are for. To help carry the load." You tilted your head with a troubled smile. "And clearly whatever happened in the past hour is weighing heavy on you, the way it’s got you so shaken."

Rafe just stared at you for a moment. Big blue eyes watching you like he couldn’t decide whether to actually let you in or shove you away.

Your heart ached deeply for this angry, broken boy.

Finally he shook his head, brows drawn into a bitter grimace. "This shit… no one can help me with. It’s fucked, it’s so fucking FUCKED." His face scrunched up, both palms pressing against his temples. "Shit's so bad I was this close to beating that bitch up."

Your brows twitched.

"Ruthie?" Somehow you already knew who he meant, and a bad, bad feeling settled in your stomach.

Rafe nodded with a bitter smile. "Of course fucking Ruthie." In a swift motion he gestured angrily toward the event venue. "I would’ve never gotten up and left if that bitch hadn’t pushed me to it."

Somehow that was both relieving and deeply concerning. Because if Rafe let Ruthie mess with his head, then shit must be really bad.

"Why? What did she want from you?" you asked, hugging your arms tightly as the cold breeze hit your bare skin.

Rafe frowned. "Doesn’t matter. Get back inside, you’re freezing."

Yeah, no shit. Been freezing since I came over to talk to Topper.

"It does matter," you said anyway, mirroring his expression. "What did she want?"

Rafe let out a sharp breath, dragging a hand through his hair. "That crazy bitch is blackmailing me, alright? Got a fucking video of me snorting coke at Kelce’s shitty-ass party and now she’s trying to make me do her bidding."

Your frown deepened. "Who—"

"Gracie took some dumb video of her bitch friends in the kitchen and I’m seen in the background. Clear shot of my face and everything," he said, pissed off and deeply frustrated. "Now fucking psycho Ruthie’s threatening to post it online if I don’t convince my dad to accept her father’s dumb-ass joint venture deal."

He shook his head hard, rubbing his temples like he was trying to physically to hold himself back from crashing out again. "But my dad’s already said no because it’s a shit offer. Only an idiot would agree to those terms." His face twisted into a pained grimace. "Already tried calling him but Wheezie said he’s at some corporate dinner tonight. It’s a fucking lost cause anyway, my dad will never say yes to that bullshit."

Jesus Christ.

That was seriously fucked. Like, next-level fucked.

Sure, everyone knew Ruthie was nuts, but blackmailing someone? Using Rafe’s addiction against him? Backing him into a corner until he had to numb the desperation and frustratioi with more coke?

FUCK. THAT.

"Fuck that bitch," you said, and Rafe’s head snapped up, clearly caught off guard. "You got proof of her blackmailing you?"

Rafe frowned. "Yeah, but it’s all in the same damn chat as the fucking video. If I showed that to the cops, I’d be turning myself in with it."

"Isn’t Topper’s mom a lawyer?" you asked, voice sharp with focus. "Maybe she could find a way around that."

"Shit, no," Rafe replied with furrowed brows, scratching his jaw. "Don’t need that crazy woman getting involved. She’d go straight to my dad, and it’d be the same fucking outcome." He rubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head. "Can’t even stand to see Topper right now anyway. Fucker’s been glued to Ruthie and her little bitch squad all night. Probably even involved in this bullshit game."

You gave him a deadpan look. "Topper might be gullible and stupid when it comes to girls but he’d never stab his best friend in the back."

"He’s not my fucking best friend," Rafe snapped with a scowl.

"No, you’re right. That title definitely goes to Kelce," you said with a little chuckle before your face turned serious again. "But my point still stands. Topper would never do anything that would really hurt you."

Rafe rubbed at his eye, clearly worn out. "Doesn’t fucking matter. No matter what I do, I’m fucked. Only option’s getting my dad to accept that garbage deal."

Fuck no. Ruthie getting to pull off her little game and win? No fucking way. Just—no. Absolutely not.

"Even if you succeed, she still has that video," you pointed out. "She’ll just keep playing the same game. So you gotta beat her at it." You raised your brows. "Meaning: We need to get our hands on something worse than what she’s got on you and make sure that video gets deleted from her possession."

For the first time since Rafe’s crashout, his face lit up with an amused smile. He raised his brows. “‘We’?”

You nodded. “I meant it when I said you don’t have to deal with shit like this on your own.” A cheeky smile tugged at your lips. “Also, she kinda ruined our bonding moment, so I kinda feel like getting back at her.”

Rafe let out a disbelieving breath, that boyish smile spreading across his face. “Bonding moment.”

“Well, yeah. We were all cozied up and cuddling. I’d say that counts as bonding,” you replied, cheeks heating up, surprised you even dared to say it out loud.

And the chuckle that left Rafe’s lips was so sweetly boyish, it felt like a win in itself. He stepped closer with a lopsided smile and gently grabbed your shoulders, nudging you to turn around. “Aight then. Let’s get back inside and continue bonding.”

NJDHWANDJKHla WHAT.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words and the feel of his hands on your shoulders. Still, you didn’t move, turning your head to look back at him with raised brows. “But the Ruthie situation.”

Rafe shook his head. “Bitch gave me until the Gloaming. I’ll figure that shit out later. Can't change shit right now anyway.”

“We,” you corrected him.

“Yeah, we are gonna go back inside and get you back under the blanket,” he said, nudging you forward. “I can feel the goosebumps through the fabric of your dress.”

You could swear he glanced at your ass for a second and that alone made your cheeks burn even hotter.

This guy was a menace.

His hand settled on your upper back as he guided you toward the entrance, his touch sending shivers up your spine.

“What?” he asked, clearly amused, as you stopped again.

You smiled sheepishly. “Uhm, pretty sure I heard one of the security guards say they’re gonna knock you out if you come back in.”

Also, his pupils were still blown but one could argue that’s just a natural reaction of eyes toward darkness.

Rafe scoffed, totally unfazed, and nudged you forward again. “My dad knows both of them. They’re not gonna do shit if they don’t wanna end up jobless for the rest of their lives.”

Not him flexing his dad like Draco Malfoy. Help.

“Jesus Christ, what now?” he frowned as you stopped again.

“Promise you won’t be mad at Topper,” you said, brows raised, waiting.

Rafe’s face twisted into a dramatic scowl. “That fucker—”

“Topper probably didn’t even do anything wrong,” you cut in. “Other than maybe seeing Ruthie as a potential love interest, but I guess that was just him trying to cope with Cara rejecting him.”

A sigh left Rafe’s lips. “Alright, alright. Now move. This shitty-ass car robot movie’s already starting.”

Transformers, dude.

“And you’re gonna apologize for punching him,” you added. “Because THAT was actually uncalled for.”

Rafe looked like you just insulted his entire existence. “Fuck that. I’m not about to crawl up that loser’s ass.”

Seriously.

“That’s not crawling up anyone’s ass,” you said with a frown. “It’s called being a decent human being. And a good friend.”

Rafe scoffed. “A good friend would beat his ass again just for talking to Ruthie in the first place. Might knock some damn sense into him.”

You stared at him deadpan. “I’d love to knock some sense into you."

Ah, shit. Here we go again.

Rafe’s lips curled into that cocky fucking grin but you beat him to it with a scowl.

“First of all: no to whatever you were gonna say,” you said dryly. “Second: stop trying to change the subject.”

He chuckled. “Okay, okay. I won’t beat him up again.”

You didn’t move a muscle, just stared at him expectantly.

Rafe frowned. “I’m not saying sorry.”

“You will. Otherwise, you can expect some bonding time with Cara and JJ cause that’s who we’ll be sitting with then.”

He looked at you like you’d grown another head.

“Fuck that,” he muttered, brows furrowed. “I’m not cozying up with some pogue rat.”

You shrugged. “Then have fun having the lounge bed to yourself because I will."

I won’t. And I don’t want to. No way I’m getting caught up in whatever they’d do under that blanket.

Rafe stared at you for a good ten seconds before sighing and rubbing a hand over his chin. “Fine. I might say I shouldn’t have punched him. Still not saying sorry.”

Better than nothing, you thought.

You raised your brows. “Promise?”

A dramatic sigh. Then: “Promise.”

With that, he placed his hand on your back again and nudged you forward one last time. Only this time, it had settled a little lower than before—dangerously close to your butt, for someone who’d agreed to a friendship yesterday.

But you didn’t complain. Didn’t flinch. Because maybe that was exactly where you wanted it to be.

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K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R E V I O U S | N E X T ->

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T A G L I S T F O R M (taglist for this series is CLOSED but you can sign up for my other stuff through this link)

#i know i say i wouldn’t have gone after him because i have too much pride #but in reality it simply wouldve been because i wouldn’t want to be one of those girls that’s like #this isn’t you #because i fear i wouldve slapped ME across the face #i swear i am normal irl #lwk rafe needs to give me five mins and a hair tie #WHAT WHO SAID THAT #yall i can’t write smut to save my life #so we’ll just pretend i can act it out (i am scared of physical intimacy)#i just know my fbi agent is just as invested as me but at the same time is judging my facial expressions as i read #but do i care? no #theyre lucky to have me 🙂‍↕️#who else would give them access to a 15.k+ fanfic about rafe MF cameron #exactly.#rafe cameron x reader #i love this series so much #one of my faves

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