☆☆☆☆

Pope was so excited that it was the weekend. He had no extracurricular activities that day, and his only plans were to go out on the HMS Pogue with his friends and his new girlfriend. He woke up and was greeted by the sunniest Saturday morning he had seen in the long time and it was as if the stress and anxiety was lifted off of him.

He smiled to himself as he grabbed his phone off of his desk and checked his messages.

I can't come out today :(

Pope read the text message from his new girlfriend, they had only been official for about two months, and his heart sank. He let out a heavy sigh as he typed back a quick reply and changed into his clothes for the boat.

Pope couldn't keep the frown off of his face as he rode his bike to The Chateau. He had been looking forward to this Saturday on the water with the Pogues and his girlfriend all week. Sun, water and a pretty girl in a (hopefully) small swimsuit was just what he needed to get his mind off all this Royal Merchant and Denmark Tanny nonsense.

He hopped off his bike, letting it fall to the ground in the drive of The Chateau then stalked up towards the open door of the front porch.

"Whoa. Easy, Big Guy. Gonna break my door. You look like someone broke your project for the Science Fair." John B mumbled as he pulled on a t-shirt he grabbed from the back of the old couch.

"She's not coming." Pope grumbled as he sat down on the couch beside Kiara as she finished packing the cooler.

"What do you mean she's not coming? We've had this planned since like, last week. Stoked to finally meet your girl, man." JJ mumbled as he finished pinching the last bit of weed into the rolling paper.

"Says that she can't come out today because 'it has been a red dawn'. Whatever that means." Pope sighed as he turned his phone over in his hand, resting his head back on the couch.

Kiara burst out laughing, her hand over her mouth as she kept her eyes fixed on the cooler at her feet.

"What? Why is that funny?" Pope asked as he lifted his head up from the couch to look between his friends.

"She has her period, Pope. She doesn't want to come out because she has her period and is probably embarrassed to be around you and boys she doesn't know." Kiara replied as she looked over at the Heyward boy who still looked confused.

"Red Dawn, now that was a good movie." JJ stated as he put the freshly rolled joint behind his ear, and stood up.

"JJ." Both Kiara and Pope sighed as they looked over at the blonde boy.

"I'm just saying." JJ smirked as he adjusted his red hat on his head, then stood up and made his way over to the small television set on the other side of the room, crouched down and began to rummage through the small cabinet beneath.

"Well, I guess I'll just for two weeks after exams and prep classes are over. It just sucks because this was like, the one weekend she and I both had." Pope muttered as he rested his head back on the couch.

"Who says that you can't see her?" Kiara asked with a furrowed brow.

"Well..I just figured she'd want to be alone." Pope stammered.

"She's not a leper, Pope. And even if she were, she's your girlfriend." Kiara rolled her eyes as she swatted her friend's chest.

"Hate to admit it, but she's right. Take this and go see your girl instead. Boat will still here next weekend." JJ grinned as he walked over to Pope and handed him a dusty DVD.

"Red Dawn? JJ, I can't bring this." Pope held the DVD up to show the title back to the grinning Maybank boy, and shook his head.

"C'mon. She'll think it's funny." JJ laughed with a pat of Pope's shoulder before he made his way down the hall of The Chateau.

"Don't bring that." Kiara muttered under her breath.

"I'm not." Pope replied.

*

By the time Pope got to her house, still on The Cut, it was mid- morning and the sun was blazing hot. He dropped his bike in the empty driveway and wiped his brow with the hem of his shirt. He walked up the steps to the front door and knocked lightly.

"Pope?" She opened the door and greeted him in baggy sweat pants and an oversized sweater.

"Hi. I know you said that you didn't want to come out today, but I thought...well, Kiara thought..that you might want some company. And I thought that, too. But I didn't want to overstep and invade your space. But I guess I'm here now." Pope rambled as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other on the front step.

"No, it's okay. Pope, I'm really glad you came over. Come inside." She smiled softly as she took hold of his hand, lacing their fingers and pulled him inside the house, towards her bedroom.

"I was just going to watch a movie." She smiled as she sat on the edge of her bed and looked up at him as he stood awkwardly in the doorway of her bedroom.

"That's perfect. I actually brought you some snacks. I wasn't sure what you might be craving, I know you always flip flop between chocolate or candy. So I brought you both." Pope smiled softly as he walked slowly to the edge of the bed and sat next to her, pulling his backpack off his shoulders.

Pope opened up his backpack and pulled out one bag of Skittles and another bag of M&M's, passing them to her.

"You're the sweetest boyfriend, ever." She smiled as she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I do request I get at least a handful of the Skittles, though." Pope blushed as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close.

"I can do that. Hey, what's that? You brought a movie?" She smiled as she pointed the the DVD that sat at the bottom of his bag.

"What? No, I didn't...damnit, JJ." Pope sighed as he rubbed his forehead.

She smirked and reached into the bag before he grab her hand to stop her. She looked at the DVD with a smile and read the bright yellow Post-It note on the front. JJ's unmistakable printing on the note.

IT WILL BE FUNNY.

"I'm so sorry. That was JJ's idea of a joke. He wanted me to bring this movie because of your text.." Pope sighed as he reached for the DVD.

"You don't want to show me the movie?" She giggled as she held the movie out of his reach.

"If you want to watch it, sure." Pope nodded with a sigh of relief. For once JJ's antics hadn't gotten him kicked in the ass. Especially with a girl he liked.

"Pop it in the player, it's over there." She giggled as she pointed the small television across her bedroom.

Pope smiled and did as was requested of him, putting the DVD in the old player. He grabbed the remote and walked back over the bed and laid with her as she already opened the bag of Skittles.

"Pope?" She asked softly as he settled against the headboard and fast forwarded through all the trailers and advertisements he didn't care about.

"Yeah?" He looked down at her, and he felt his heartbeat start to quicken. She was so pretty, and she liked him.

"Do you think you could rub my belly for a little bit? I have cramps, and they suck." She whispered as she rested her forehead on his shoulder.

"Really?" Pope asked as he slid his back down the headboard to be closer to her on the mattress.

"Yeah. Your hands are always so warm and soft." She nodded as she rested against him, her head on his shoulder as she watched the television.

"Sure." Pope smiled as he slowly, tentatively, reached beneath his shirt and pressed the palm of his hand just beneath her belly button and softly rubbed back and forth. He kissed the top of her head as she nestled into him even more.

"Thanks for staying behind from the boat to keep me company, Pope." She whispered against his neck.

"No need to thank me. I think I like this better." Pope replied softly.

"I don't know why JJ said we should watch this movie, though. There's minimal blood. Should have watched Carrie or something." She smiled as she looked up at his face.

"You're so weird. And I'm not watching Carrie again. Watched it once in the 8th grade because JJ made me, and I'm not doing it again." Pope laughed, his hand still running across the warm skin of her stomach just under her belly button.

"Oh, no. Poor little Pope." She giggled as she wrapped her arms around his midsection and pulled him close.

"Yeah, so if you want to watch horror movies you'll probably have to ask JJ." Pope replied as he kissed the top of her head.

"I will protect you, Pope." She whispered against his chest and held him tightly.

Pope felt content in that small bedroom with his girlfriend, the fan blowing straight on them as they watched that stupid movie JJ must has shoved in his backpack when he walked out the living room earlier. He supposed he owed him a thank you.

Maybe.

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The librarians working the front desk greeted him warmly, recognition washing over their faces. You watched as he chatted with the women, leaning on the counter and flashing a charming smile. Cute, you thought to yourself.

They soon pointed over to the history section, where you were currently shelving, and you quickly busied yourself with the books on your cart, hoping they hadn’t caught you staring.

You heard him walk up to the stack, your cart positioned between you two. You each took turns stealing glances at each other, Pope’s easy charm he had shown before now replaced with an endearing shyness. You could feel a smile tug at your lips as you noted the shift in his demeanor.

“Hey,” he turned to look at you, book mid-shelve, “I think that’s the book I’m looking for.” Pope pointed at the book in your hand.

“Oh.” You held the book in front of you, reading the title, Lost Treasures. “You going treasure hunting or something?” you joked, handing the book over to him.

“Uh, yeah actually,” he chuckled as you tilted your head, your smile still present despite the confusion on your face. “It’s a long story.”

You turned your attention back to your books, nodding skeptically. “Well, I’d love to hear it sometime.”

“Oh, uh y-yeah, sure…” You grinned, amused by the boy’s flustering.

“I’m y/n, by the way,” you said, continuing to place books on the shelf in front of you.

“Pope.” He pointed to himself, albeit a little awkwardly. It only made you like him more.

“I’m here Wednesdays and Fridays, y’know. If you ever wanna tell me that story of yours…” you said while pushing your cart out of the stack. You glanced back at him one more time before walking off, biting your lip and smiling to yourself.

It was safe to say that Pope would be there again.

---------

The following weeks, Pope came into the library every Wednesday and Friday. He would pretend to browse the shelves or do research, when, in actuality, he would just follow you around as you shelved your books (sometimes even helping you). You would laugh at his jokes and he would find little ways to impress you—his mind filled with an abundance of different facts and anecdotes.

One of these days, you were in the classic literature section, Pope handing you each book as you found its rightful place on the shelf. The two of you were talking about your favorite classics as you worked.

“I’m just saying, his books are mind-numbingly boring,” you said, taking a book from Pope’s hand.

“What are you talking about? Hemingway wrote some great books!”

“Literally nothing happens in them. Old Man and the Sea? Just about a guy catching a fish.”

“It’s not just about that. It’s about perseverance and the nature of life.”

“Yeah, yeah. He was kind of a dick, though.”

Pope laughed and clicked his tongue. “Yeah, can’t argue with that,” he conceded, shaking his head.

You held your hand out for the next book, but Pope was no longer handing them to you. Turning your head towards him, he was looking at you, nervously fidgeting with his hand.

“Everything good, Pope?”

“Uh, yeah.” He paused. “Can I ask you something?”

You could feel your heartbeat quicken, hopeful for what he might say next. You had been waiting for him to ask you out for a week, almost resorting to just asking him yourself. You steadied your breath, answering as nonchalantly as you could. “Sure.”

“I was wondering if you wanted to-”

“Yes,” you blurted, probably definitely a little too quickly. “Shit, wait,” you clapped your hand over your mouth, “I’ll let you finish first.” You nodded for him to continue, trying to contain your giddiness.

Pope smiled widely. “y/n, would you like to have dinner with me?”

“I’d love to.”

---------

Pope had told you to meet him at the beach. Your body was abuzz, thrumming at the thought of what he had planned for the night. You stumbled your way down the hill that met the sandy beach and spotted him next to a blanket, covered with food. It was enough to feed ten people.

“Wow, Pope,” you said as you walked up to him. “You really went all out, huh?” You surveyed the blanket, spotting an array of cheese and crackers, pasta, and fruit. You noticed a particular spread, causing you to look at the boy, head tilted and eyebrows raised. “Bagels?”

Pope laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wasn’t quite sure what you liked…”

You moved forward to sit cross-legged on the blanket, smiling up at the boy reassuringly. “It’s perfect.”

You and Pope sat there for hours, talking about whatever the two of you felt like and feasting on the absurd amount of food. You were laughing hysterically while taking a bite out of your bagel, smearing cream cheese on the side of your mouth.

As you tried to catch your breath, Pope reached out and wiped the smear away with his thumb, causing your breath to hitch. You both looked at each other, tension crackling through the air.

“I have the feeling that you’re trying not to kiss me and I give you permission to just do it.”

His eyes widened. “Oh, o-okay. Mhm, yup, yeah I’ll just-”

“Pope.”

After you helped me, I liked you all of sixth and seventh grade. But I guess it was my fault, expecting you to change just because you did one decent thing. You’re always picking and choosing when to be nice. It’s very frustrating.

You think you're better than a lot of people, and that makes me mad. All the girls fawn over you just because you’re handsome and on the swim team. Your dad’s money probably doesn’t help either. Do you really think people enjoy watching you make out with different girls in the hallway?

But when you did do something nice, I liked you even more. Like when you walked Wheezie to the bus stop or took the blame for Top when he had flicked a pencil at Mr. Shaffer’s head and it got stuck in his toupee. Or that one time, when Rose had made those apple cinnamon muffins and there was only one left, so you gave it to me, even though they were your favorite.

I don’t know what happened to the boy who did those things. You’re meaner now and I don’t understand why. You’re even mean to Wheezie. And I do not like mean boys—I certainly don’t love them. So that is why I know I am no longer in love with you.

I hope high school makes you nice again. But I doubt it!

Sincerely,

y/n l/n

• • •

You woke up to the sound of rustling in your room. The late morning sun peeked through your windows, casting lines of shadows across your room. As you groggily leaned yourself up from your messy bed sheets, eyes half open, you could just make out your mom beside your desk. She was digging through a pile of old books and journals.

“Mom,” you let out, your voice low and scratchy from just waking up. “What are you doing?”

“There’s too much junk in this house!” She kept grabbing at various things of yours. “It’s time for a deep clean!”

“Wait!” You quickly scrambled out of your bed as your mother began to exit your room with her arms full, chasing her down the stairs. “Don’t you think I should get a say in what in my room is considered junk?”

You followed her out through the garage, where you saw she had set up some folding tables, covered in things your mother no longer wanted. “Jesus, mom,” you mumbled.

As you scanned through the stuff on the tables, pulling out all of your things, you heard shoes scraping on concrete. You looked up and saw Rafe Cameron, walking past your house. He glanced over and met your gaze, a smirk resting on his face.

“Hey l/n.” He walked up to the tables, surveying the mess that was your garage. “What’s all this?”

“My mom went on a little cleaning spree,” you quipped. “I didn’t know you were coming back this summer.” You were still looking for your stuff.

“Yeah, decided to help my dad out with a few things,” he explained, watching you dig around the table.

“Oh, that’s cool,” you mumbled, not looking up. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your mom taking some of your clothes into the house. “Hey! Where are you going with those!” You frantically grabbed a stack of journals your mom had taken out of a box and piled it onto the stuff already in your arms. You managed to blurt out a quick “welcome back” before you rushed inside to confront her, not noticing the letter that slipped out of a journal and onto the ground, landing in front of the boy to whom it was addressed.

• • •

A week had passed after your mom’s spontaneous declutter. You had managed to keep most, if not all of the stuff she had shuffled out of your room that day. After things had calmed down, you realized how strange it was to see Rafe back home, walking around town. You had gotten so used to not seeing him that past year while he was at UNC, reveling in the absence of his snide remarks when you went to hang out with Sarah.

You were in the kitchen when you saw the mailman in front of your house. You walked outside, granola bar still in your mouth, as you waved goodbye to the man. Opening the rusty mailbox, you took out the pile waiting inside and shuffled through to sort out the junk mail.

Your hands stopped when they landed on a letter, your name written on the front. Confused, you neatly tore the envelope open, pulling out the crookedly folded notebook paper.

May 29

Dear y/n,

I’m flattered, really. Who knew you had liked loved me back then. It’s nice to know I was so desirable.

I remember that day you talked about, with Henry. What a little shithead. In all honesty, any opportunity to yell at him was one I would've taken. Maybe I should have thanked him for tripping you, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to do that.

As much as I appreciate it, I do have some qualms about the things you wrote in that letter of yours.

First of all, I am not that mean. I just don’t deal with people I don’t feel like dealing with. And that happened to be a lot of people. As for the “thinking I’m better than a lot of people,” ouch. We grew up on Figure 8. I feel like there should be some leniency there, seeing as most of us are told from birth that we are better than others.

But, to be fair, there was some truth in what you said. I was a much different person in middle and high school. One year away can make a hell of a difference.

I know the last thing you probably wanted was for me to read your letter, but it was addressed to me, so… I couldn’t resist. Anyways, I hope to see you around this summer, l/n.

Your knight in shining armor,

Rafe

Oh god, no, you thought to yourself, granola bar dropping to the ground as your jaw went slack. Panic surged through your body as you ran back inside and up to your room, letter still in hand. Please still be here. You reached your desk and dug out all the journals your mother had taken out just a week ago. No, no, no. Flipping page after page, no letter was found.

Shit.

You had written that letter at the beginning of eighth grade when the stupid crush had finally subsided, never intending to give it to him. You vaguely remembered calling him your knight in shining armor, cringing at the cliche line. You had to get that letter back, but there was no way you could face Rafe. You were mortified.

Your fear of confrontation guiding you, you decided to return to what got you into this mess in the first place. Pulling out a sheet of paper and an envelope, you quickly started writing out a response.

June 1

Rafe,

You were, in no way, supposed to read that letter. I want you to know that that was a long time ago, my feelings for you are not even a thought anymore. I am a little mad you read it, but I guess it’s too late for that now.

I’m hoping you would return the letter to me? In all honesty, I don’t remember much of what I wrote and, apparently, I am a masochist because I want to relive the cringy things in which I put in that letter. Having the letter in your possession also poses the risk that Sarah might see it, and I don’t think I can go through the humiliation of having her read it as well.

Sincerely,

y/n

Folding the paper neatly, you slid it into the envelope, scribbling Rafe’s name on the front. Once sealed, you ran back downstairs and out the door. As quickly as possible, you drove over to Tanneyhill, placing the letter in the Camerons’ mailbox while still in the car. You prayed to god no one saw you as you drove away.

• • •

June 3

Dear y/n,

I’m not so sure I want to give the letter back. I’ve never had someone write me a love letter before and I think that’s something someone oughta hold onto, don’t you think? If you’d like to revisit the words you so lovingly wrote to me, I’d be happy to show you the letter, but only under my supervision. Let me know what you think.

Rafe

P.s. I promise to keep it hidden away from prying eyes. You have my oath that no one else will read it. Cross my heart.

• • •

June 5

Dear Rafe,

I seriously cannot believe you are holding my letter hostage. And you say you’ve changed…

How do I know I can trust you? How do I know you’re not lying when you say you’re different?

Sincerely,

y/n

• • •

June 6

Dear y/n,

Your concern is completely justified. I was sort of a dick back then, wasn’t I?

Going to college is sort of like being plunged into a place full of people just like you, in a way. Of course, not everyone is the same, but they all got in, just like me. There are kids there just as smart or smarter. Top athletes and students. I’m not “the best” anymore, if that makes sense? Not that I ever was, really.

Long story short, my cocky ass was not prepared for that. But thankfully, it humbled me (does that still sound cocky if I say I was humbled? I feel like I’m trying to impress you somehow and it is not coming out the way I want it to).

y/n, I mean it when I say I’ve changed.

What about you? Here I am, spilling my guts about how college totally kicked my ass and I don’t know a thing about what’s happened to you. It’s been a while y/n. I can’t be the only one who’s changed.

Rafe

• • •

The letters had continued on like this. Over the course of two weeks, the two of you exchanged letters, filled with a healthy amount of bickering and some genuine conversations sprinkled throughout. You surprised yourself at how easily it was to tell Rafe things. And it surprised you that he was also willing to tell you things. Both of you found yourselves replying to each other's letters quicker than before.

Neither of you disclosed this information to anyone. Whatever it meant, you were apprehensive to tell anyone about the letters, liking that you had them for yourself. Rafe was also relishing in the intimacy which the letters provided. It was a strange relationship. It was one you never thought you would have with Rafe, but there you were.

So caught up in your secret correspondence, you had been unintentionally neglecting one of your closest friends. After a few apologetic texts, you finally made plans to hang out with Sarah. You felt bad, but the letters had been occupying your brain for the past couple of weeks.

You walked up to the large windowed doors which graced the facade of Tanneyhill. You were just about to knock when Sarah ran up to the doors and swung them open, engulfing you in a tight hug.

“I feel like it’s been forever since I saw you! What the hell have you been doing?” She let go of you after she felt you squeeze her back.

“Just figuring out what to do with my life,” you only half joked. When Rafe had asked you what you had been doing for the past year, you admitted that there wasn’t much to show. You had no direction for where you wanted your life to go, not sure if college was the right choice for you. Rafe had written a sweet response, reassuring you that you’d find your way.

You followed Sarah into the living room, the movie which you two had agreed to watch already queued. As you sat there watching the sappy rom com, your mind wandered, thinking about when you would get Rafe’s next letter, whether he was somewhere in the house, whether he knew you were there.

After an hour of the movie had trudged along, you noticed Sarah’s light snores as she slept beside you. Of course, you thought to yourself, laughing softly. Sarah had a bad habit of falling asleep during movies.

The sound of the fridge opening in the kitchen behind you made you jump a little. Swiveling your head around, you saw Rafe grabbing a bottle of water, turning to face you on the couch.

“Hey…” he said quietly, raising his hand as a greeting.

“Hi.” You got up from the couch and made your way to the kitchen. It was strange seeing Rafe. This was the first time you had actually talked to him after all the letters. You had learned a lot about him those past two weeks, but speaking was something you weren’t used to with Rafe.

“This is weird, isn’t it?” He chuckled. It was as if he could read your mind.

“Yeah,” you laughed along with him. Suddenly remembering, “Hey, I never got my original letter back.” You poked him in the side as he took another sip of his water.

“I don’t remember that being the deal…” he eyed you, lips curling into a smirk.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, but you still promised to show it to me.”

“Alright,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Follow me.”

You followed Rafe up the staircase and into his room. The walls were painted a muted grey, his bed situated in the middle of the far wall, windows framing both sides of it. His room was a lot cleaner than you had thought it might be. He walked over to his desk and pulled out the bottom drawer. Lifting up all the folders and papers stuffed inside, he revealed your letter, Rafe’s name written on the front in your loopy handwriting.

“Bingo.” He made his way over to you, unfolding the piece of paper and holding in front of the two of you. You made a move to grab it, but Rafe was too quick, letter already in the air, too high for you to snatch. He clicked his tongue. “Not the deal, l/n.”

“God, you are infuriating sometimes.” He lowered the letter once again, finally allowing you to read the words you had written so long ago. The further you got, the more you wanted to sink into the ground. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I wrote this,” you groaned, covering your face with your hands. You could feel Rafe laughing beside you.

“I think it’s cute.” Your cheeks flushed, thrown off by his comment.

“Well, thanks for sticking to the deal, I guess.” You quickly stepped away, heading towards the door.

“Wait a sec,” Rafe said, placing a hand on your shoulder. He returned to the desk and, from another drawer, took out another letter. This time, your name was printed on the front. “I was gonna drop it off later today, but I figured since you’re here already…” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh, thanks,” you said, grabbing the letter. When you got back home, you tore open the envelope’s seal.

• • •

June 20

Dear y/n,

I believe it may be time to take this written friendship to the next level. How are your sea legs?

Rafe

• • •

You had snuck out late that morning, meeting Rafe down at the marina. As you made your way down the dock, you couldn’t help the nervous energy buzzing through your body. This was the first time you were going to hang out with Rafe. Alone. And he was the one who had suggested it. It all felt very surreal.

He was standing on the Druthers, hand outstretched for you. “M’lady,” he said, helping you onto the boat.

“So captain, what’s the plan for today?” you asked as he untied the mooring line.

“Well, I’ll take you out on the water, have a little picnic, swim?” he said, eyes already squinting in the sun.

“Sounds perfect.”

“Maybe get a little drunk…” He gave you a mischievous wink.

“Oh, even better!”

Rafe steered the boat out of the marina, out into the ocean. You took in the salty air as the wind blew through your hair. You admired Rafe as you sat beside him, chatting. Although your crush on him was long gone, you had to admit he still had that same charm about him, still the beautiful boy you had onced loved in middle school.

He was dressed in a worn UNC shirt (a welcome change from his usual pastel colored polos) and red swim trunks. His sunglasses perched atop his nose, his smile easily pulling you in.

When he found a good place to stop, he brought out a picnic basket and a cooler, popping the red container open and handing you a beer. He then opened the basket and you scooted forward, excited to see what he had brought. Out came sandwiches, cheese and bread, an assortment of different fruits, and salad.

“Wow, you really went all out,” you grinned.

“Uh yeah. Wasn’t sure what you might like,” he said bashfully, scratching the back of his head.

The two of you dug in, laughter already filling the empty space around you as Rafe took a huge bite out of his sandwich. Though you feared it might have been different speaking to him in person rather than through your letters, conversation had come easily, as the two of you lounged on the back of the Druthers.

“So, what’s your plan after college?” you asked, taking a sip of beer.

“Yikes, really diving into the hard questions now, huh?”

“Sorry,” you laughed. “I guess it’s not really fair for me to ask, seeing as I currently have no plans at all…”

“No, no, it’s all good. I don’t think it’s ever really been my plan anyways.” He looked down at his hands. “My dad has these grand expectations for me. I thought that, once I had made it into UNC, continued his legacy and all that shit, he’d maybe ease up on me a bit.” He laughed to himself, a sad twinge buried beneath his voice. “If anything, it's gotten worse.”

“I’m sorry, Rafe.” You reached out to lay your hand on his wrist.

He shook his head. “All I want, y/n, is to make something of my own, y’know? I don’t want to be that same kid from high school who just floated by with daddy’s money.” Your heart winced a little, flashing back to the words you had written about him in your first letter.

“You said it yourself,” you shook his wrist a little, hoping to bring some reassurance. “You’ve changed. You’re not that kid anymore.” You removed your hand, retreating it so that you could mess with the strings on your swim bottoms. “I wish my mom had some sort of plan for me. She’s too wrapped up in her own head to think that far ahead. I feel like I’m stranded, being forced to make decisions I don’t know how to make.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being lost.” You looked up and the smile Rafe offered made you melt a little. “But enough of this depressing shit.”

Rafe moved forward and swept you up in his arms, stepping towards the edge of the boat. You squealed at the sudden movement. “Rafe! Put me down!” you shrieked, laughter bubbling up inside your chest.

“Sorry, can’t do that, sweetheart.” Rafe jumped off the boat with you still in his arms, plunging the two of you into the icy water below.

• • •

June 23

Dear Rafe,

Thanks for the boat ride. I had a lot of fun. You still owe me for that little stunt, though.

The thing you said about your dad, and making something of your own? You’ll have that something at some point, I know it. I always knew you would do great things, ever since we were in middle school. And I’m not just saying that.

Anyways, thanks again.

y/n

• • •

June 24

Dear y/n,

Seems like you kept a lot of things from me in middle school… Thanks, though. I really appreciate it.

As for my little stunt, how about I make it up to? Coffee at Clyde’s? Pick you up at 10am tomorrow?

Rafe

• • •

Since the boat ride, you had spent almost everyday with Rafe for the next month and a half, the exception being when Ward had called him away for work. Asking you to coffee had led to asking you on day trips to asking you to dinners, snowballing as you two made plan after plan.

You showed him your favorite hidden beach spots and made him watch all the black and white movies that you loved. You even took him to your favorite bookstore. It was a small and cramped little shop, selling new and pre-owned books. It sat right between the Cut and Figure 8. You dragged him inside, excited to pick out some of your favorite novels for him. Harold, the shop owner’s old grey cat sidled up against Rafe as he browsed the shelves alongside you. In the back, there was a small sitting area where you and Rafe had plopped down to read, your legs propped up on his lap. You had spent nearly three hours there.

Rafe had also had his fair share of things to show you. He taught you how to steer the Druthers the second time he took you out on the water and he took you minnie golfing (knowing far too well that actual golfing was not your forte, the first and last time he took you resulting in a lost club and you nearly taking out his eye).

And then there were times where you just walked together, talking to each other about anything and everything.

The letters never stopped either. It had started to become routine that, every time you met, you would exchange them. You were glad that they continued. You liked having tangible evidence of whatever it was you had with Rafe.

The two of you still hadn’t discussed the time you spent together with anyone else. It wasn’t like the two of you were trying to hide it from people. It was a small town. Most likely, people had already begun to notice. But you wanted to keep the time spent with Rafe, and the letters, for yourself. It was still so new. Knowing what the island could be like, you knew that inviting others’ opinions would only taint it.

It was a humid August night when Rafe had met you to go get ice cream. The previous day, you had given him a letter telling him to meet you at the local ice cream shop, simply stating that you had big news.

You had waited to tell him what the big news was until after you had finished eating, stalling by asking about how his day was. Rafe tossed your empty cups into the trash as you began to walk towards your house.

“So are you going to tell me what this ‘big news’ is or just have me guessing forever?”

“Right,” you nodded. “In the beginning of July, I found this writing program. It’s basically a year traveling around Europe, attending writing seminars and meeting all these amazing writers. So I applied.” You paused to look at Rafe, who was listening intently. “And I got in.”

“y/n, that’s amazing!” He swept you up into a hug and spun you around. Your heart fluttered at his reaction, smiling into the crook of his neck. “Why didn’t you tell me about it earlier?” he asked while placing you back onto the ground. You were passing a playground and you slowly turned to go sit on one of the swings. Rafe took a seat beside you.

“Well, I didn’t really tell anyone besides my mom. It was the first time this year where I’ve actually felt like my life could go somewhere, that there’s actually something out there that I wanted to do.” You were slowly pushing yourself in small circles with the tips of your toes. “I didn’t wanna jinx it or get my hopes up, in case I didn’t get in.”

“But you did get in.” He nudged your foot with his, interrupting your circling. “I’m really happy for you, y/n.” He looked up at you through the fringe of his hair, free of the gel he often combed through it. He had started to wear his hair without it after you had told him you liked it better like that. “I’ll miss you, though…”

You looked at him and leaned your head on the swing’s chain, giving him a bittersweet smile. “I’ll miss you too.”

You both sat there, looking at each other, and you felt your heartbeat race as he leaned forward. Your eyes fluttered closed as he placed his lips on yours, giving you a chaste kiss. As he pulled back, he looked into your eyes, searching for approval. You lifted your hands and placed them on either side of his face, gently pulling him back so that you could kiss him again.

It was subtle this time, falling for him. You had noticed your old feelings resurfacing, slowly boiling up, around July. You had tried to ignore it, but sitting there on the swings with him, eyes closed, forehead touching forehead, you knew you had fallen harder than before.

Rafe quietly walked you back home, his hand engulfing yours. The beating in your chest still hadn’t calmed. There was a sweet shyness between you and Rafe, both blushing as you made your way to your front door. He let go of your hand so you could open the door, turning around and leaning against it.

“Good night.”

“Good night.” You bit your lip, slowly shutting the door, eyes still locked through the closing sliver of it.

• • •

August 17

Dear Rafe,

I haven’t heard from you in a bit. Everything alright?

y/n

It had only been a few days since your kiss with Rafe, but you hadn’t heard a word from him. No letters, no plans to meet, nothing. You told yourself that he was probably busy with his dad, but the unsettling feeling in your stomach persisted.

It helped that Midsummers was in a week, allowing you to distract yourself with gowns and your mother’s preening. Midsummers was an event you had always looked forward to in the summer, dancing with friends and stealing flutes of champagne.

Sarah had invited you over to look at dresses and you had accepted, a little part of you hoping you might run into Rafe. When you got there, you noticed his car was missing in the driveway.

You sat in Sarah’s room as she piled dresses onto her bed. You were staring out her window, only half-listening to her go on about whether she should go with a strapless dress or one with sleeves.

“Hey, y/n,” Sarah jolted you out of your thoughts. “This is serious!”

“Sorry, sorry.” You glanced at the pile of dresses. “The white one, with the draped sleeves. You look like a princess in that one,” you smiled.

“You know just what to say to flatter a girl!” Sarah placed a quick kiss on your cheek.

You opened your mouth, pausing slightly as to whether you should ask. “Do you know where Rafe is?”

Sarah smiled that knowing smile. “Ah, I see now. This is about Rafe.”

“W-what? No,” you stammered. “I just asked where he was…”

“Yeah, right,” she said sarcastically. “I think he’s with our dad. Are you two a thing now? Whenever you’re not with me, you’re with him.”

Unsure if you wanted to tell Sarah about the kiss, you replied, “We’re just friends.”

“Well, since you’re just friends, you should totally find a cute foreign boy while you’re out gallivanting around Europe,” she said as she began to lift the disqualified dresses and hang them back in her closet. “Oh and find me one too!”

“What about John B?”

“He’ll understand,” she giggled, you laughing along with her. “Alright. Your turn, y/n!” She shoved a dress towards you to try on.

• • •

August 19

Rafe,

I know you’re probably super busy right now, but am I going to see you at Midsummers?

y/n

You stood in the back of the venue at the country club, watching all the families of Figure 8 file in, dressed to the nines. You had settled for a green tulle dress with an intricately laced bodice. Sarah had gathered baby’s breath and placed the small white flowers all throughout your hair.

Your mom had wandered off to socialize, leaving you to wallow in the back. If it wasn’t for your thoughts surrounding Rafe, you’d be mingling yourself, dancing with Sarah and getting tipsy. The sudden cold shoulder from Rafe had soured your mood.

Suddenly everyone quieted, pointing their attention to the country club doors. You saw Ward and Rose come out first, ever the picture perfect couple. They then stepped aside for Rafe and Sarah to come out. Sarah was in her white dress, John B stood next to her, looking a little out of his element. Rafe walked out in a powder blue suit, his hair back in its gelled form. But nothing could have prepared you for the sight of Rafe with another girl, his arm snaking around her back and smiling at the onlookers. He scanned the crowd and saw you, his smile faltering for just a second before returning.

You felt your stomach drop, heat creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks. A rush of anger and shame coursed through your body. You turned to the bar and distracted yourself with ordering a drink as you heard the crowd return to normal, the Camerons dispersing into the venue.

“I’ll take a scotch please, thanks.” Rafe walked up to the bar and stood beside you, awkwardly scratching the back of his ear. “You look really beau-”

“Don’t.” You snapped, sending him a glare. You saw him wince.

“y/n, please. I can explain.”

You laughed bitterly. “Oh really? Well I don’t want to hear it.” You started to storm your way into the country club before Rafe caught up to you and pulled you aside on the porch, away from the rest of the event.

“y/n, just wait,” he whisper-shouted, not wanting to draw attention. “Can we please talk!”

“So now you want to talk?” You shoved his arm away from where he had grabbed you. “You are the one who didn’t want to talk, Rafe!”

“I know, I know. And I’m sorry about that but-”

“You kissed me!” You shoved him hard in the chest and he stumbled back. “You kissed me and then ghosted me! And then I finally see you and you're with another girl!”

“I know,” Rafe ran his hands over his face as you stepped back, distancing yourself from the blonde boy.

“Oh my god,” you laughed to yourself, tears starting to prick your eyes. “I can’t believe I did this to myself. Again!” You brought your hand to your mouth, shaking your head. “You really haven’t changed, Rafe.”

Rafe stood there as if you had slapped him. Before he could get out another word, you made your escape, thankful that he didn’t follow you.

• • •

August 23

Dear y/n,

I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ignoring you. I’m sorry for Midsummers. I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for a lot of things, but I’m not sorry for kissing you. I will never be sorry about that.

I like you so much. Here you are, this amazing girl that has always been here, who wrote me a love letter in the eighth grade and now knows more about me than anyone else. I tried so hard to show you that I’m not the smug asshole I was in high school. I wanted to be the knight you had always wanted me to be. I wanted you to see me differently. And you did.

But after I kissed you, I freaked myself out. What if you decided I wasn’t who you thought I was? What if I truly was the same as I was before and always have been? I didn’t want you to find that out for yourself, so I ran away—pushed you away. But I guess you found out anyway.

The girl at Midsummers, Brooke, was my father’s idea. Her father works with him, she’s from a good family, all that crap. He said it was “the perfect match,” which really meant that it was the perfect match for him and his plan. But my mind was so fucked after our kiss that I agreed. I knew it would hurt you, but I did it anyway because I thought you’d be better off. But I know better now and I’m so sorry for not telling you.

I know I could have avoided all this if I had just talked to you, told you everything. I keep making stupid decisions, but I’m done doing that. So I’m telling all of it to you now. Please forgive me.

Sarah told me you were leaving in a week. Can we please meet? Come to Tanneyhill whenever you get this letter. I need to see you before you go.

Your knight,

Rafe

• • •

Rafe was in agony. After Midsummers, he had stayed up all night trying to figure out what to write to you. There must have been at least fifteen different drafts, now crumpled up in his trash can. He had dropped off the letter a week ago and still hadn’t heard anything back. It was now the day you were supposed to leave and he felt depleted and heartbroken.

Rafe was sprawled out on the couch, sitting in his own guilt and sadness, when Sarah yelled from upstairs, “Rafe! I got a notification that my package is here! Can you get it for me!”

He groaned. “Why can’t you get it!” he shouted back.

“Not dressed!”

Rafe rolled his eyes, rolling off the couch and dragging himself to the front door. Swinging the door open, he bent down to pick up the package. As he began to stand back up, he noticed an envelope laying on the ground addressed to him. His eyes widened, heart racing, recognizing the handwriting he’d seen so many times before. Rafe dropped the package and picked up the letter, quickly tearing the envelope open.

• • •

18 Bloomsbury Square

London

WC1A 2NS

UK

Write me.

• • •

“hey, y/n?”

you looked up from your phone as you heard the sound of your mother’s voice. she has been rummaging through her drawers for a solid few minutes now, and she still hasn’t found whatever she was looking for. “yeah, mom?”

“do you have some envelopes i could use?” she asked, wiping the sweat that formed on her forehead. “i just need to send something important, and i couldn’t find any.”

“i think so. i’ll go check my room,” you offered as you hopped down the stool.

“please,” she sighed, though an appreciative smile graced her lips, “thanks, hon.”

you hummed, running up the stairs to your room. you pushed the door open, and your nose wrinkled at the sight of your messy room.

you needed to do some cleaning -- and soon.

you went through your study table, your folder organizers, and under your bed, but you never found them anywhere. you swore you had them in here somewhere.

you grabbed the ottoman from your bedside and placed it in front of your open closet. even with the added height, it was still too low for you to reach the top, because you had to blindly pat around for something.

you managed to grab a hold of a box and a packet, which you assumed were the envelopes. you pulled them both from their confined place, but as soon as you brought them down, you let out a scream at the sight of the spider on top of the envelopes.

the ottoman rocked from the sudden movement, which resulted in you falling off with a loud thump.

“fuck,” you cursed, watching as the spider crawled away.

“are you okay?” your mom called out as you eyed the familiar shoebox that cracked open from the fall. “did you find the envelopes?”

“yeah…” you trailed off, eyeing the contents of the box as you pulled it towards you. “and more.”

“what was that?”

“nothing!” you exclaimed, grabbing the packet and handing it to her. “here’s the envelopes.”

“thanks, y/n,” she said as she placed a kiss on the side of your head before waving you off.

you walked back to where the box was, and you ran a finger through the numerous designs that it adorned. from stickers to doodles, the sight brought a smile to your face.

you looked through the entirety of its contents; photos, letters, movie stubs, receipts, and old drawings. it all brought you a wave of nostalgia and heartache.

there are a myriad of polaroids of you and rafe, each tugging a string of your heart. the photos did not only capture the raw bliss of the both of you, but also the story behind it.

the movie stubs and receipts from friendly date nights slowly faded away from age, but it still held a value that only you and him would ever appreciate.

and the love letters that were creased and folded from being reread time and time again. you grazed your thumb over the rumpled texture of one of the letters, ‘open this as soon as you get on the plane’.

dear y/n/n,

in this letter contains the words i was too afraid of telling you, so if you’ve managed to get a hold of this sap, then i probably chickened out.

in all honesty, no words can describe how much you mean to me. but for you, i’ll try to muster up all the right ones.

y/n, you’ve given me a new meaning to my existence and i couldn’t imagine a life without you in it. if anyone was going to ask me, i’d say that you and i were made to be together— forever, wherever that may be. you, and loving you was the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me. you have a very special place in my heart, and no one could ever replace that, be it in this lifetime, or any other lifetime.

so you moving out of the obx will never change the way i feel about you. we’ve been friends for too long and if this letter will somewhat be the reason why it’d be ruined, good thing you’re miles away from me haha :’)

— and if not, by any means, if you like me, too, then i’ll give you my word and promise that i’ll wait for you. no matter how long that may be, i’ll wait for you.

love,

rafael.

P.S. the writing classes dad (forcefully) made me join finally came in handy ;)

you let out a watery chuckle, no matter how many times you’ve read it, the words of rafe cameron always got to you.

you sighed, delicately putting everything back in the box as you leaned against the side of your bed. you looked up at your ceiling, which adorned a few glow-in-the-dark stars that he also gave you.

you wonder how he’s doing.

it was just another evening for the cameron family, but instead of having dinner at home where their personal chefs could cook something up for them in at least an hour or two, ward made them dress up for the dinner reservation he made at the new fancy brasserie.

and they were gracious enough to invite you along.

when rafe came to pick you up, the both of you burst out laughing at the sight of your coincidentally matching attires. once the laughter died down, he offered you a stem of rose he plucked out of, well, rose’s garden on the way out.

rafe took a separate car from his family, opting out as soon as he was given the opportunity. he’d rather scream the lyrics of a trashy pop song with you than sit in silence with his family in the limousine.

the trip to the brasserie was fun and short-lived, and the both of you had to switch characters from young and blithe to mature and professional in a matter of seconds. and what bothers you the most is that it’s his family.

no one should be feeling tense and antsy around their family.

but you’ve been welcomed to their family long before rose even entered the picture, and you knew how ward cameron was. he cared more about their money and reputation on this small island than being good to their own child-- unless you’re sarah.

when the both of you arrived, the waiter led you to where they already were. an unamused expression on his father’s face as he saw you both arrive a little bit later than they did.

“now that they’re finally here, can we please get those menus?” ward asked the waiter, who awkwardly distributed the laminated folders and backed away to list your orders.

you ordered the meal you deemed adequate for yourself and waited as the others cited theirs.

“uhh, can i have the smoked chicken quesadillas with the side dish of shrimp scampi?” rafe stated, looking up from the menu.

“oh, can i have what he’s having, too, please?” sarah smiled, placing the menu down.

the waiter pursed his lips, before speaking up, “i’m sorry, but i’m afraid only one of you could have it, unless all of you are willing to wait another hour for the quesadillas?”

ward sighed and turned to look at his son, a stern look on his face. “rafe, how about you be the best brother there is and let your sister have it?”

rafe scowled but nodded nevertheless as he muttered under his breath, “always sarah, it’s always sarah.”

you placed a comforting hand on his knee as you frowned at the older man a few seats across from you. “your dad’s being stupid, you can just share with me.”

“shut up, y/n.” he gritted his teeth, moving his leg away from you to withdraw the hand you placed on his knee. “don’t talk about him like that.”

you opened your mouth to say something but decided against it as you took notice of his clenched fists and hard expression.

the rest of dinner was tense as rose tried to keep the atmosphere light, but she should’ve known better not to try. rafe’s mood only worsened as soon as ward talked about business and sarah’s choices for her future.

his hand kept fidgeting, and you slowly placed yours on top of him. he tipped his head to look at you, and you offered him a small smile as you finished your food with your hand intertwined with his.

when rafe dropped you back at your house, he pulled you into a hug and apologized.

“i’m sorry for snapping at you, y/n/n,” he sighed, resting his chin on top of your head. “you know how i feel about my dad. he’s not the best dad out there, but he’s still my dad…”

“yeah, i understand.” your words were slightly muffled into his dress shirt.

rafe doesn’t know where he’d be without you. he felt as though he was slowly starting to lose himself under the pressure of his father and always wanting to be worthy of his attention. despite having everything, it’s still not as much as what his sister gets.

and he’s not talking about the money, but it’s about the love and support that his father constantly showers her with.

you slowly walked down the stairs as you gripped the newly folded parchment in your hand.

you approached your mom and watched as she hastily penned something you couldn’t quite fathom. “hey mom?”

“can i have one?” you asked as you pulled an envelope out of its packet.

“yes, sure,” she murmured, doing a once-over at her work before turning to you. “do you want me to bring that to the post office, too?”

you nodded, writing down the important details on top of the envelope before passing it to her. “thanks, mom.”

rafe cameron

#68 vespucci st., tannyhill, obx. north carolina.

butterfly mailbox.

to rafe,

hey, long time no talk.

i just came across the shoebox filled with the things we kept back in the obx -- brought me too much feels. i don’t know if you’ll write back, but i do hope so. i missed you so much, i have so many things to tell you.

i don’t know if i’ll see you again someday, but if you’re out there, i hope that you’re okay!

all the love,

y/n.

rafe didn’t know what else to do. it was a nice afternoon out, but he wasn’t in the mood to spend his time outside so he declined the plans that he had with topper and kelce.

everything was the same every day, anyway.

he sighed, walking towards the balcony to breathe in some fresh air, having been cooped up in his room for hours now. he watched as kids raced on their new shiny bikes across the street, their laughter filling in his ears.

rafe furrowed his eyebrows as he eyed the mailman approaching the mailbox that he hadn’t touched in months. his confusion grew as the mailman shook his head with the same confusion.

he sauntered down the stairs, earning a cheer from wheezie, who was residing on the couch. he ignored her and went straight outside.

rafe didn’t know if he even wanted to open it.

the mailbox that he stood in front of was assembled by you and him when you were both sixteen. the mellow white box that adorned the painted butterfly wings and both your initials were slowly fading from age.

he slowly pulled on the mantle, his face falling at the sight of what was contained inside. he grabbed every single letter that was sealed and delivered but never read.

rafe went back into his house as he shuffled through each envelope, a soft smile gracing his lips despite the heavy feeling in his heart.

06/08/20

to rafey,

guess you did like me after all, you sap! and don’t worry, i like you, too.

life in new york is… new haha but seriously, it’s a big change, and i’m still trying to get used to everything. it’s weird not having you around, i miss you too much. didn’t think i’d miss you pissing me off every second of the day, but well, here i am.

take care of yourself for me, won’t you? and be nice to your sisters, you’re still their brother at the end of the day, and believe me or not, they love you just as much as i do.

hope you’re not missing me too much!

xx y/n

06/09/20

to rafael,

mom said i had to attend pre-college next week! can you believe that? i mean, it’s just like a seminar and how life in uni is but like- :/

anyway, i don’t know if you’re getting my letters, but it’s only been a day since the last one so i’m not that worried.

i miss you! please write back <3

- y/n

06/15/20

rafe!

hey there, kook. you know, i can’t believe we’re caring too much about the whole kook v. pogue fiasco back at home. there’s a whole new world beyond the obx, and it amazes me that no one really cares about whatever’s going on with other people’s lives.

i’m going to attend the seminar tomorrow, wish me luck aaaa

hope you aren’t getting into trouble, rafael.

write back soon!

y/n

06/21/20

hey rafe,

it’s been at least a few days since the last letter, sorry for not writing.

i don’t even know if you’re getting this, or if it got lost in the post, but i need you to write back, please.

i haven’t been feeling my best these past few days, it’s so hard making friends here at uni. i kinda miss having you by my side, my personal guard dog haha

missing you as always,

y/n

06/22/20

rafe!!

i made a new friend! her name’s ves. well, not really, but she told me to call her that. she’s cool-- chaotic. somewhat like me haha i think you’ll get along with her.

i hope you’re doing well <3

xoxo, y/n.

P.S. did you see the envelope? i drew a wolf in class ‘cause i remembered you. still can’t believe that your name means wolf, now stupid, little me can’t help but remember you whenever someone mentions a wolf.

06/24/20

rafeyy

our professor assigned us our first project and i honestly can’t wait to start it.

have you been receiving these letters or are you keeping them to yourself? i think you forget that you have to write back, too.

y/n <3

06/30/20

rafael cameron,

i have so much to tell you! so today the bell rang (well, duh) which means my eng lit class was over and i was packing my things up, right? and then the professor called me and said that i should stay back for a while because she wanted to talk to me. so i agreed, of course, and i was so fucking nervous. i tried to think of something that i did that could possibly upset her, and i couldn’t think of anything as the class walked out for their next class.

and when she finally called me, you wouldn’t believe what she just asked me!! she offered me an internship at this company her husband worked for. she told me that she loves my written works and how i had a way with my words, so she showed it to her husband, who showed his boss and i guess you’re talking to an intern at adornia now!! omg

sorry i realized that i rambled, but i was just so excited to tell you!

write back, rafael, i need to know what’s going on in that kooky life of yours.

lotsa love,

y/n :)<3

P.S. i just realized how many letters i’ve written to you, there’s at least 6/20 envelopes left.

07/23/20

hi rafe,

haven’t written to you in a while, but to be fair, you haven’t written back either.

how are you? your sisters? i also miss them.

a month into uni and i’m… hanging in there. i feel homesick every day.

lots of love,

y/n.

07/28/20

i miss you, i still like you.

08/06/20

write back, please.

rafe let out a shaky breath as he held the most recent and last one in his hands. it was different from the rest. it lacked the usual goofy doodles and colorful fine liners. it was just… plain and sophisticated.

he took his time reading it, taking in your handwriting and the slight smudges on the paper. he let out a heavy sigh as he finished it, looking through the envelope to see one of the few polaroids you sent him.

you were balanced on his shoulders, his hands gripping on your thighs as you had a hold on his hair. the both of you had goofy smiles on your faces, a cowboy hat on top of your head. yeehaw, cowboy! was sloppily written at the bottom, no doubt his handwriting.

rafe stared at the letters for a few more seconds, a few of them were wet, and he had a hard time deciphering the words written on them.

truthfully, he never expected you to write to him. the only reason he had the mailbox was because you pretended to be pen pals when you were younger, even though your houses were not less than a five minute walk away.

he’s given you his number with the usernames of his socials, and he kept guard of his phone ever since, expecting you to pop up in his notifs with a text or a reaction to the farewell letter he gave you.

but it never came.

and it took him months to accept that you wouldn’t give him a call or text.

rafe realized that you must’ve been feeling the same disappointment and chagrin as he did when he never wrote back to you, and he felt bad for never checking the mailbox.

he laid in his bed wondering how you’ve been doing the past few months you’ve lost touch. sure, he got the smallest glimpse through your letters, but he knew you, and he knew that there was something much bigger than what you’ve chosen to share.

he’s wondering if you knew how proud he is of you, not just your accomplishments, but you. he’s so proud of the person you’ve become.

but why would he spend time wondering about everything and anything when he can just find out for himself?

friday game nights with you was rafe’s favorite night.

he brought out the classic monopoly from the board room and plopped down next to you on the living room’s carpeted floor.

as rafe arranged the pieces by its respectable places, you leaned back on your arms and took in the familiar surroundings of his home.

your eyes settled at the childish drawing on top of the fireplace’s mantelpiece. an amused smile grew on your lips, which your best friend immediately took notice of.

“what are you smiling at, you idiot?” he asked as he looked at you oddly. the piece in his hand hovering over the board.

you lifted a finger up to show him what you were staring at. “who drew that?”

rafe rolled his eyes, going back to fixing the game as the frown on his lips deepened. “sarah.”

you hummed, eyebrows slightly furrowed as you wondered, “where’s yours?”

“what?”

“your drawings.” you shrugged, finally helping him with the last few parts. “i doubt you don’t have any.”

he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he let you finish it up. “i dunno, probably hidden under sarah’s. always been.”

you stood up from the floor and walked towards the frames, grabbing each of them that contained sarah’s drawings.

rafe had a panicked look on his face as he watched you grab them from its place. “what are you doing?”

you ignored him and sat back on your original place, unlatching the locks from behind the frame.

and surely enough, there were drawings hidden. every art work of rafe’s had been signed by younger him with a sloppy signature, and it brought a huge smile on your face. “i’ll keep them.”

“what?” rafe asked in disbelief, staring at you as you delicately placed his drawings in a pile for you to keep.

“i’ll keep them.” you repeated, putting back the frames where you found them, and returned beside him. “are we gonna start this game, or what?”

at that very moment, rafe was sure of one thing: he liked you.

wheezie watched in amusement as her brother started to rummage through every cabinet and drawer for something. he even looked under the couch’s cushions, dumbly enough.

“do you… need anything?” she finally asked, arms crossed as she looked at her brother for an explanation as to why he’s close to wrecking the whole house just to find whatever he was looking for.

“yeah,” he nodded. “envelopes, you got any?”

“jeez, is your ego really that big that you couldn’t have asked me that in the first place?” she muttered, her face scrunching up at the sight of her brother’s bored expression. “yes, it’s in my room.”

as soon as rafe was handed the packet of envelopes, he unwittingly planted a sloppy kiss on his sister’s cheek, which made the both of them freeze.

“don’t tell anyone i did that or i’ll wipe your whole face off.” rafe threatened, shooting her a menacing glare before rushing back to his room.

“it’s not like i’d ever tell anyone about that.” wheezie shuddered, wiping the slobber off her cheek.

rafe drove down to the post office with the sealed letter stuck to his hand. his mind filled with the thoughts of you and the letters that he didn’t even realize that he arrived until he parked the car.

before he could enter the small building, his eye caught the sight of a flower shop across the street, making him pause and draw a decision to enter it.

so back in the post office, instead of just a letter that was long overdue, rafe also had a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“hi, i’d like to get this rush-delivered to this address,” he said politely as he slid the card with your address across the counter. “preferably now so the flowers will still be fresh.”

the clerk he was talking to frowned at his request, “i’m sorry, mr. cameron, but i’m afraid we wouldn’t be able to get this delivered to new york as you wished. our trucks are filled to the brim until tomorrow.”

rafe blew out a low whistle and grabbed the wallet from his pocket. he pulled out three hundred dollars and discreetly slid it towards him. “take this, and have it delivered today.”

his frown only deepened and declined the offer. “it’s all honest work here, mr. cameron, i’m sorry, but you’d have to wait until tomorrow.”

“fine, i’ll take matters into my own hands, then,” he huffed in annoyance and shoved the money back into his pocket. he grabbed the flowers and the letter from where it stood

y/n l/n

atlantic ave., 115th st., new york, new york.

hey y/n,

i’m surprised you still have that shoebox, but i’m glad you still have it. at least you have something to remember us by.

i’m sorry for not writing back y/n/n — am i still allowed to call you that? — i never expected you to write me letters. i knew i gave you a paper with my contacts, if i remembered correctly, so i kinda expected to hear from you through the phone. guess not.

we lost touch, i know, but i just gotta say that i miss you, and i hope that you’re okay.

yours, and only yours,

rafael.

ever since you sent the letter yesterday, you couldn’t help but peek through the window every other hour— just in case he finally decided to write back. although you knew that the chances were low.

your mom was out for work, which left you to fend for yourself for the time being. you’ve done your assignments early, so that means you’ve got the rest of the day slumming around.

you already had your netflix on when the doorbell rang. you grabbed your purse on the island counter and pulled out the money you needed to pay your take-outs.

as soon as you swung the door open, you nearly dropped the money you were holding. though despite your initial shock, you were able to mutter, “you’re not the pizza guy.”

rafe laughed, and oh, how you missed the sound of that. you immediately leaped into his arms for a hug. the sweet smell of his cologne filling your senses.

“you better not be greeting the pizza guy like this, y/n/n,” he teased, pulling you in closer to reciprocate the tight hug.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you asked as you pulled away from him, slapping a hand over his arm.

“ow,” he mumbled, rubbing the area to ease the pain. “came to see your mom, duh.”

you rolled your eyes in annoyance, but the growing smile on your lips said otherwise.

“these are for you.” rafe handed you the bouquet of your favorite flowers, they were slightly wilted, due to the travel, you assumed. but they were still beautiful nevertheless.

“thank you, rafe,” you smiled at him, pulling him into your house. you momentarily disappeared into the kitchen to find a vase as he rolled his suitcase into your home.

“why didn’t you ever call me?” he asked as soon as you entered the living room.

“why didn’t you ever write back?” you playfully shot back, though you both know that you were still hurt from his sudden ignorance.

“i didn’t think you’d write to me, honestly.” he admitted, rubbing his hand at the back of his neck, and that’s when you finally took in his appearance. his usual slicked back hair lacked the gel, which made his hair look tousled and soft, and the polo shirt and khaki shorts combination were replaced with a comfortable hoodie and sweatpants.

“well, i did.” you shrugged, sitting back on your spot on the couch. “i lost the paper you gave me, i told you that in one of the letters, if you ever bothered to read them.”

“to be fair, we haven’t used that mailbox a few months before you even left, and phones exist for a reason,” rafe sassed, flopping down next to you. “i only found out about the letters yesterday after i saw the mailman drop a letter in it.”

you hummed, unsure of what to say next. you just let the comfortable silence take over the both of you as you basked each other in.

“do you still like me?” he finally asked after a few more minutes.

you risked a glance at him to see that he was already looking at you. you bit your lip in hesitation, but you didn’t know why you were hesitating. you knew the answer to his question. “yeah.”

“do you still want to go out on a date with me?”

“yeah,” you nodded your head as you grinned at him. “you still have any questions to ask?”

“nah,” he grinned back as he pulled you in to wrap his arms around you. “just that i love you, and i’m glad that you’re okay.”

he tilted his head down a bit as he glanced at your lips, you took the hint and slowly leaned in as he did. although before your lips could even touch, the doorbell rang, and you leaped away from him.

“oh, i think that’s the pizza!”

“y/n!”

“sorry!” you laughed, you paid for the pizza and shut the door. you walked back to where a pouting rafe was sitting and lowered the box on top of the coffee table.

“fuckin’ pizza guy’s a cock block.” he muttered, as he tugged on your arm and brought you to his chest. he cupped your jaw with his hand and slowly brought his lips to yours.

the kiss was soft and sweet, and everything about it screamed perfect. everything was finally coming together after years too long of pining and slowburn.

when you pulled away, rafe leaned in again to catch your lips into another short kiss. “okay, how about that pizza now?

“hell yeah.”

general taglist: @tatesimper @bluvclouds @i-love-scott-mccall @miraclesoflove

sour collection: @ifilwtmfc @dumbasscorn

you knew your worth.

at least you thought you did — because as soon as you glimpsed even just a bit of his alluring blue eyes and charming smile, every sense of dignity you’ve got goes straight down the drain.

you and anyone else, would’ve thought that after getting stood up for the fourth time by the same guy, you would stop getting your hopes up and prevent yourself from another heartbreak, yet here you were.

you’ve been waiting at the same table for the past hour, ignoring the pitiful stares and judgmental glares you’ve gotten from the people around you. you swirled the glass of lemon water in your hand as you looked at the sight of the beach from across the restaurant.

you don’t belong here; fancy clothes, expensive food, and classy people. you’re a pogue, and the only reason you were in kook territory is because your boyfriend asked you to go on a dinner date with him.

you watched as jj, clad in his waiter attire, approached you, a sad smile on his face. “i’m sorry, y/n/n, but i can’t keep giving you lemon water and garlic bread. raz said he’d recompense it out of my check.”

“oh, it’s fine,” you said as you stood up, grabbing your purse, “i’m sorry.”

he pulled on your arm, making you look up at him. he took note of the slight frown on your lips and the glassiness of your eyes before pulling you into a hug. “he’s an asshole, y’know?”

you hummed against his chest before pulling away. “i’ll see you later, j.”

you wandered through the streets of figure 8. the walk from the bistro to the cut will obviously be grueling, but the sudden free time in your hands would give you a moment to reevaluate your relationship with topper: what he meant to you and you to him.

you wouldn’t exactly call it a relationship, per se. you were leaning a bit towards a mutual understanding wherein you both like each other but choosing not to put a label on whatever’s going on between the both of you.

you were kicking stones as you continued your pity party when a familiar beep of topper’s land rover pulled you out of it.

“oh, thank god, i found you,” topper sighed in relief as he slowed his car beside you. you thought that he was glad that you were still here, expecting for the apologies to splutter out of his mouth, but it never came. “i need your help.”

you furrowed your brows, momentarily forgetting about his sellout. “with what?”

he pursed his lips, leaning over to the side to push the door open for you. “well, not exactly help. i just want you to come to the bonfire with me.”

you were about to answer him when he did a double-take at your appearance. “why are you all dressed up?”

“i-” you opened your mouth but shut it just as soon, finding no words to say at all. you climbed onto the passenger’s seat and gave him an iffy smile. “nothing, c’mon.”

topper knew what he was doing, he knew how he was hurting you, and it’s killing him to do it. yet with every inner battle he’s having with himself, he couldn’t help but hold the longing gaze of adoration he has on you.

you had a can of mai tai in hand as you danced freely to the blasting music in the cove. the soft glow of the fire creating an astonishing hue against your skin. you looked so happy and carefree, and all he wished was to be one of the reasons for the smile adorning your lips.

topper wanted to be loved.

especially by you, of all people. but his unceasing fear of you leaving and finding it hard to love someone like him had him questioning how deserving he is of your love.

it was a selfish move, really. pulling himself away from you because he knew that you deserve someone who can love you just as much as you loved him — maybe even more — but is too afraid to let you go.

you loved topper so much that you let him treat you like that.

you slowly danced your way to him, pulling him towards you for a dance. your light laughter filled his ears, a melody he’ll never get tired of. topper had an amused smile on his lips, he twirled you around before pulling you to his chest, the two of you slow dancing to the sounds of the wild music and haywire chatter.

maybe he’ll allow himself to be in your arms, even if it’s just for the night.

it was a nice day out, and you’d never pass up the opportunity to hang out with your friends. the five of you, and sarah, were all sitting on the table the pogues claimed for yourselves. the table was filled with snacks and appetizers provided by mrs. carerra.

the light atmosphere vanishes as soon as you see the scowls on the boys’ faces. you didn’t get to ask them what was wrong when a sudden hand landed on your shoulder.

you looked up to see your boyfriend looking down at you with a soft smile, a bouquet of your flowers in his hands.

“what’s this for?” you grinned, ignoring the burning glares your friends were sending you.

“what, i can’t give my favorite girl her favorite flowers for no reason?” he mused, pulling you close to give you a sweet kiss.

sarah rolled her eyes, snuggling closer to john b. “that’s nice and all, topper, but you’re kind of intruding on something here.”

“oh, really? i didn’t notice,” he feigned innocence, sarcasm dripping from his voice. he shifted his attention back to you and kissed your forehead. “i’ll pick you up later for the drive-in, ‘kay?”

you nodded, watching as his figure slowly moved away from you. as you sat back down, the complaints and outcries of your friends filled your ears.

“he’s just using you as an alibi, pookie,” jj huffed, extending his arm to grab a fry from your plate.

you smacked his hand away and rolled your eyes at the nickname. “he’s not.”

“yes, he is!” he insisted, holding his hand away from you. “y/n, he stood you up more times than i could count, and suddenly he’s being all lovey-dovey now?”

“maybe he’s just trying to-”

“i don’t think he even knows the pain you’re going through because of him,” he said, shaking his head.  “he’s only acting like that because he knows sarah’s here with you. he’s just trying to make the point across that he’s unaffected by her and john b.”

“shut up, jj,” you managed to say. you swallowed the lump on your throat as you stood up. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

your friends watched as you walked away, shoulders slumped and head low. they glared at jj, but they all know he’s right.

you know that he’s right.

you were awoken from your deep slumber by your ringing phone, the familiar ringtone you’ve set for topper filling your ears. you blindly patted around your bed for your phone.

you wondered if he needed anything because he knew that every time that ringtone sounds, you’ll pick up. you always did.

“hey top,” you yawned, rubbing your eyes as you sat up to alleviate the sleepiness. “what’s wrong?”

“hey,” he said, his voice raspy and groggy, “just wanted to hear your voice.”

a smile grew on your lips and you laid back down now that you knew that nothing was wrong. you pulled the phone away from your ear and requested a facetime.

at least a few minutes later, topper’s face appeared on your screen.

“did you just fix your hair?” you teased, eyeing his neat hair. “you’re looking so fine while i’m looking like a hot mess right now.”

he scoffed in mock annoyance, a grin on his face. “you always look beautiful.”

“shut up,” you mumbled, hiding your face in your pillow. “you do know it’s past one a.m., right?”

“yeah,” topper sighed, running a hand across his face. “couldn’t sleep,”

“i’ll keep you company then, even if you disturbed my precious beauty sleep.”

and you did. you spent the rest of the evening talking about everything and nothing until fatigue slowly washed over you.

it was nearly four in the morning when topper was talking about how he surfed a big wave the other day when he caught sight of your sleeping face squished against your pillow, cooped up in one of his fluffy blankets.

his expression grew softer than anyone can imagine. he had a sweet smile on his lips and a look of adoration on his face. “sweet dreams, my love.”

the next evening, you drove to the boneyard where topper, rafe, and kelce resided, no doubt looking for some trouble. you had two cans of mai tais in hand as you maneuvered your way towards them.

“hey li’l pogue,” rafe smirked, eyeing the beverage in your hand. “that for me?”

you rolled your eyes as you gave topper his beer. he pulled you into a hug and kissed your temple. “thanks, babe.”

you hummed, leaning into him as he hung his arm around your shoulder. you scanned through the crowd as you sipped on your drink. your eyes landed on a certain group of pogues, an amused smile adorning your lips as you watched them laugh and goof around.

you were about to excuse yourself to join them when topper pulled you with him towards the middle where couples were slow dancing. “let’s dance.”

you let out a laugh as he dragged you to the middle of the makeshift dance floor. you wrapped your arms around his neck as he secured his around your waist, pulling you closer than you already were.

the two of you swayed along with the slow music. everyone gawked at the sight of a kook and pogue together. the both of you didn’t pay any mind to your surroundings; it was as if the world stopped, and it was just the two of you for a moment.

you looked up at him, and you knew that at this moment, he was the one for you. “i love you, top.”

he faltered for a moment, his heart beating out of his chest as he swallowed the lump on his throat. “don’t do that to yourself, y/n/n.”

you paused, your eyebrows furrowing at his words. you knew that there was a possibility that he wouldn’t say it back as soon as you said it, but you were beyond confused at his response. “what?”

“you don’t love me,” he whispered, running a hand through his hair. “you shouldn’t be loving me-- not after how i’ve been treating you.”

“then stop treating me like that,” you stressed, taking in a deep breath as you removed your hold on him. “topper- i’m so confused. one second, you’re acting like i’m your world-”

“you are! but-”

“and then the next second, you suddenly act like i’m a crime that you’re committing,” you finished, ignoring the stares of the people around you.

“i try so hard to convince myself that my friends are wrong-- that you actually like me for who i am and not because i’m a pogue…” you trailed off, hurt evident on your face.

“y/n…” topper tried, but you struck a nerve with your words. a part of him knew that you were right. after the breakup he had with sarah, he wasn’t in the right mindset when he asked you out on a date a few weeks later.

but actually spending time with you, he’s grown to love you so much that his day wouldn’t be complete without you.

when you scanned his face, you were practically begging for whoever was listening that no amount of emotion would prove you right. you let a stray tear roll past your cheek. “but i’m right, aren’t i? you were so hurt by sarah that you wanted to see what the fuss about dating a pogue would be like-- if it would give you this electrifying thrill and striking adventures.”

topper looked down at his shoes, looking at the difference between his polished sperry’s and your worn-down sneakers. he wanted to say something. anything. he wanted to tell you how much he wanted to love you, how important you are to him, and how it doesn’t matter that you’re a pogue and he’s a kook.

but he didn’t know where to start, and his heart slowly breaks in sync with yours.

“well, i hope you got the answer to your question,” you said as you slowly backed away from him. “and i hope i was your favorite crime— after all, i’m just a pogue.”

he looked up at you, his heart stuck in his throat.

“‘cause baby, you were mine.”

topper dejectedly watched as you walked away from him, beating himself up for letting you leave without telling you that he did. he did love you, too, and you weren’t just an experiment for him.

rafe silently offered him a cup of cheap beer, which he immediately gulped down, asking his friends to keep them coming.

he would do anything and everything to get you back, but for now, he’ll just drown his sorrows away and regret every word he said and every beer he drank in the morning.

although, if there was one thing he wouldn’t regret, it was meeting you and loving you, even if it hurt him not to show you.

but for now, you were just another crime he was about to serve a sentence to.

sour collection taglist: @ifilwtmfc @dumbasscorn

general taglist: @tatesimper @bluvclouds @i-love-scott-mccall @miraclesoflove