pair: rafe cameron x pogue!reader
trope: forbidden/secret romance, enemies to lovers
face claim for female oc: elena glibert/nina dobrev
chapter 2 of WANNA BE YOURS
plot: following the secret connection she shared with rafe at the boneyard, clementine's morning begins with heavy tension after a chaotic brawl from the night before. eager to escape the suffocating routine of the chateau and hide her growing preoccupation with rafe, clementine sneaks out for a solitary night walk and encounters rafe a second time near an old church. away from the intense expectations of their friends, they share a vulnerable conversation about the exhausting pressure of playing the parts they were born into on the island. after rafe shows a rare moment of gentleness and warns her to stay safe, he rides off into the night, leaving clementine to return home deeply frustrated by her growing, unable to shake him from her mind.
everything looked exactly the same as it always did. the humid air smelled of low tide and gasoline, the pogues were waking up slow and loud, and yet, the entire landscape felt entirely different to her today.
"you're quiet," jj muttered, dropping down onto the bench next to her with a piece of dry toast between his teeth. he adjusted his dirty baseball cap, his eyes scanning the creek. "still thinking about last night? because honestly, i'm ready to go back and finish what topper started. kooks think they can just take over the boneyard whenever they want."
last night, after clementine's run in with rafe, topper and john b got into a huge fight. jj decided it would be a good idea to fire a gun and the whole thing went to shit.
"no," clementine said quickly, her voice a little too sharp before she softened it with a tired shrug. "no, just didn't sleep great. it was just a lot of noise."
"yeah, well, that's what happens when the country club decides to mingle with the locals," jj scoffed, spitting out a crumb. "bunch of total psychos, all of them. especially cameron. did you see the way he was looking at everyone? like he wanted to burn the whole beach down."
clementine fixed her gaze on her fingernails, picking at a speck of dried mud. her stomach did a strange, uncomfortable flip at the mention of his name. "i didn't really notice."
"hard to miss," jj grunted, standing up to go bother john b.
she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. she hated the lie, but she hated the alternative even more. if she told them she had run into rafe cameron in the dark, that they had stood close enough to feel the heat off each other, that he hadn't immediately tried to tear her apart, they would look at her like she was a traitor. or worse, like she was losing her mind.
later that afternoon, clementine found herself volunteering to run errands for mr. heyward. , purely to get away from the suffocating routine of the chateau. she took the twinkie, driving down the tarmac with the windows rolled all the way down, letting the hot wind blast her face.
she told herself she was just going to the hardware store for tools, but her hands grew sweatier on the steering wheel the closer she got to the cut's border.
she pulled into the gravel lot of the marina, the sun reflecting off the pristine hulls of the expensive boats moored at the docks. it was kook territory, technically, but pogues worked here. she stepped out of the van, the gravel crunching beneath her worn-out sneakers, the exact same shoes that had slipped on the sand right into his chest the night before.
she was walking toward the supply shack when she heard the low, unmistakable rumble of a truck engine behind her.
clementine stopped in her tracks, her heart instantly dropping into her throat. she turned around slowly.
the big, clean black truck pulled into a space near the main slip.
the engine cut out, and a moment later, the door swung open. rafe stepped out, wearing a clean polo shirt and sunglasses, looking every bit the kook prince her friends despised. he looked polished, untouchable, and completely detached from the boy in the dark hoodie who had admitted he was tired of the noise.
he didn't see her at first. he reached into the bed of the truck to grab a coil of marine rope. but as he slammed the tailgate shut, his gaze drifted across the lot and when his eyes landed on her, he froze.
clementine stood by the rusted ice machine, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. the midday sun was harsh, leaving no shadows to hide in this time. there were people around
ut the space between them suddenly felt just as heavy as it had on the beach.
rafe took off his sunglasses, his jaw clenching as his eyes locked onto hers. the arrogant smirk didn't immediately appear. instead, his expression was completely unreadable, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he was trying to figure out why she was standing in his world during daylight hours.
he didn't walk over, and she didn't move toward him. the invisible line was back, sharper and more defined under the bright blue sky than it had been under the flickering sparks of the bonfire.
rafe slowly slung the rope over his shoulder. he gave her one long, deliberate nod before turning on his heel and walking down the dock toward his father's boat.
clementine turned after he disappeared, the heat of the sun baking the gravel beneath her feet, realizing that the secret wasn't just a blip from the night before. it was still there, completely alive in the middle of the day.
the marina stayed busy around her, the sound of gulls and clanking rigging filling the air, she finally forced herself to walk back to the twinkie, grabbing the supplies she actually needed from the shack and throwing them into the back of the van. her hands were trembling slightly, a detail she chose to ignore as she gripped the steering wheel and backed out of the lot.
she drove back to the cut with the radio turned up high, trying to drown out the loop of rafe's face playing in her mind. that single nod had felt like an agreement, a mutual understanding that whatever weird truce they had stumbled into wasn't over just because the sun came up.
by the time she got back to the wreck, the restaurant was in the middle of the afternoon lull. kiara was wiping down the counter, her hair tied up in a messy bun, looking completely normal and grounded. it made clementine feel an instant wave of guilt.
"hey," kiara said, looking up with a smile as the screen door banged shut. "you took forever. did the hardware store have the right rope?"
"yeah, took a minute to find the guy in charge," clementine lied smoothly, sliding into a booth and resting her chin in her hands. "what's going on?"
"not much. pope's coming over later to study, and jj's trying to convince john b that they should go crabbing tonight," kiara said, rolling her eyes affectionately. "the usual. you look like you're still half-asleep, by the way."
"i am," clementine admitted, tracing a pattern in the condensation on a water glass. "just feels like a weird day."
"it's the heat," kiara said, tossing her rag into a bucket. "it makes everyone a little crazy." clementine just nodded, keeping her eyes fixed on the table. she wondered what kiara would say if she knew that the crazy feeling had nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with a boy from figure eight who wore pristine polo shirts and looked at her like he knew all her secrets.
the rest of the afternoon dragged on in a blur of small chores and mindless chatter. clementine stayed on the move, helping her friends where she could, but her mind kept drifting back to the docks. she couldn't shake the memory of how rafe's posture had shifted the second he saw her, the sudden tension in his jaw that mirrored exactly how she felt.
as the sun finally began to dip below the tree line, painting the marsh in shades of deep orange and purple, the pogues gathered back at the chateau's porch. the air was finally cooling down, a soft breeze moving through the trees.
jj was sitting on the railing, tossing a pocketknife into the wooden floorboards, while john b leaned against the doorframe.
"so, boneyard again tonight?" jj asked, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "heard some of the guys from the south side are bringing a better sound system."
"i don't know, man," john b said, rubbing the back of his neck. "after last night? the kooks are probably going to be looking for a fight to claim the territory back."
"let 'em try," jj scoffed, flipping the knife in the air. "they don't own the beach." clementine sat quietly in the hammock, her legs curled up against her chest. she listened to them debate, their voices familiar and comforting, but the old anger they carried felt so distant to her now. she looked out over the dark water of the creek, wondering if rafe was sitting on some pristine deck on the other side of the island, looking out at the same sunset and feeling the exact same pull.
the debate on the porch continued into the twilight, the rhythmic thunk of jj’s knife hitting the wood acting like a metronome for clementine's spiraling thoughts. eventually, the group split up, pope had to get home before his dad got stressed about the boat, and kiara headed back to the wreck to help close up.
clementine excused herself under the pretense of being completely exhausted, but as soon as she walked inside the chateau, the walls felt like they were pressing in on her. she needed a walk, somewhere where the air didn't feel heavy with the collective expectations of her friends.
she slipped out the back door, taking the narrow trail that led away from the creek and toward the main road that cut across the island. the night air was cooler now, the humidity dropping just enough to let a soft breeze rustle through the live oaks. she didn't really have a destination in mind, just walking until her legs grew heavy.
she found herself near the old church on the edge of the cut, a quiet, neutral ground where the property lines between the two sides of the island blurred into overgrown grass and old oak trees. it was dark, save for a single flickering streetlight down the block.
clementine sat down on the low stone wall bordering the churchyard, swinging her legs over the side. she pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them as she listened to the crickets in the brush.
the sound of a gravel-toned engine breaking the silence made her stiffen.
a pair of headlights rounded the corner, casting long shadows across the churchyard. clementine didn't move, her breath catching as the vehicle slowed down. it wasn't the white truck this time; it was a dark, sleek dirt bike, its engine purring low as it pulled off to the side of the road, just under the shade of a massive oak tree.
the rider cut the engine, the sudden silence rushing back over the yard. he took off his helmet, shaking out his hair, and even in the dim light of the distant streetlamp, clementine recognized the sharp lines of his silhouette.
rafe hung the helmet over the handlebar and leaned back against the seat, crossing his arms. he didn't look over at her immediately, but there was no way he hadn't seen her sitting on the wall. his posture was stiff, his jaw tight as he stared out into the dark trees opposite them.
clementine felt her pulse quicken, that familiar, electric friction from the beach rushing back into her veins. she didn't say anything, refusing to be the first one to break the silence this time. after a long minute, rafe let out a slow exhale, a puff of air that sounded almost like a sigh. he turned his head, his dark eyes fixing onto her across the short distance of overgrown grass.
"you're a long way from the chateau," he said, his voice quiet, lacking the sharp, mocking edge he usually used as a shield.
"so are you," clementine replied, her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest. "figure eight is the other direction."
rafe let out a low, dry chuckle, looking down at his sneakers before looking back up at her. "yeah. well. sometimes the other direction is exactly where i need to go."
he slid off the bike, his boots crunching softly in the grass as he took a few slow steps toward the stone wall. he didn't cross the entire distance, stopping about five feet away, leaning his shoulder against the rough bark of the oak tree. the shadows fell across his face, making it impossible to read his expression completely, but the intensity of his stare was exactly the same as it had been across the bonfire.
"your friends still talking about last night?" rafe asked, tilting his head slightly.
"all day," clementine admitted, tracing the rough edge of a stone with her index finger. "jj wants a rematch. john b thinks you guys are looking for a fight."
clementine looked up, her eyes meeting his in the dark. "i think everyone is just playing the parts they're supposed to play. it's exhausting." rafe stared at her for a long, heavy moment. the corners of his mouth twitched, not quite a smirk, but a localized softening of his usual harsh expression. "yeah," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. "it really is."
he shifted his weight against the tree, his eyes dropping to the grass between them before rising back to her face. the silence stretched out, comfortable but loaded, the kind of quiet that made every small shift in the air feel massive. clementine leaned back slightly on her hands, tilting her head as she watched him. "then why are you still playing the game?" she mumbled, her voice breaking the silence.
rafe’s jaw tightened, the question striking a nerve he clearly wasn't prepared for. he looked away, staring down the dark stretch of the road where the single streetlight flickered against the damp pavement. for a second, she thought he might just jump back on his bike, leaving her alone in the churchyard.
"because when you're born on the board, you don't really get to choose if you want to roll the dice or not," he said quietly, his voice carrying a sudden, heavy bitterness that she hadn't heard from him before. he looked back at her, his eyes dark and intensely focused under the shadow of the oak branches. "you think it's just a choice? like i can just wake up one day and decide to stop being a cameron? it doesn't work like that."
"you could try," she murmured, her voice soft against the steady hum of the crickets. "nobody is forcing you to be the guy everyone expects you to be." clementine says as she climbs down from the wall.
rafe let out a short, harsh laugh that sounded entirely hollow. he took a step closer to the wall, the cool night air shifting between them. "you don't get it, clementine. if i'm not that guy, then i'm nothing. to my dad, to my friends, to anyone on my side of the island. it's a hell of a lot easier to just play the villain than to let everyone see you lose."
he was standing close enough now that she could see the tension lining his forehead, the raw, unedited honesty that he kept buried so deep beneath his expensive clothes and reckless attitude. it was the exact same disconnect she had felt at the bonfire, the feeling of being trapped inside a book you never wanted to write.
"it's lonely though," she said, looking up at him, her heart doing that familiar, erratic dance against her ribs "being the villain". she doesn't know why her heart is beating so fast from being near him. maybe its fear...maybe its something else. rafe cameron is everything she should hate. everything she does hate, but she also can't deny that something about rafe draws her in and she hates it.
rafe looked down at her, his expression softening just a fraction as the sharp edge of his defense mechanism melted away. he didn't deny it. he just stood there in the dark, the distance between them feeling smaller than it ever had before.
rafe let out a breath, a quiet sound that was completely swallowed by the rustling oak leaves above them. his eyes stayed fixed on hers, tracking the way the faint moonlight hit her face. the silence between them wasn't cold anymore; it was heavy with everything they weren't saying, everything they couldn't say to anyone else on this island.
"yeah," he said, his voice dropping so low she could barely hear it over the crickets. "it is."
he reached up, his fingers hovering for a fraction of a second before he brushed a stray strand of hair away from her forehead. his fingertips were warm against her skin, a sharp contrast to the cool night air. the gesture was surprisingly gentle, completely lacking the rough, aggressive energy he usually carried around like a shield. clementine held her breath, her entire body freezing as her heart hammered against her ribs. she should pull away. she should walk back to the chateau and forget this ever happened.
rafe dropped his hand back to his side, his knuckles brushing against his jeans. his jaw tightened again, the brief moment of softness fading back into his usual guarded expression. "you should get back," he muttered, though he didn't take a step away from her. "your friends are probably already looking for you. if jj finds out you're out here talking to me, he'll actually lose his mind."
"i can handle jj," clementine said, trying to inject some of her usual pogue confidence into her voice, but it came out sounding breathless.
"maybe," rafe replied, a ghost of a smirk finally returning to his lips. "but i don't think you want to find out." he turned slowly, walking back toward his dirt bike. clementine watched him go, a strange ache settling in her chest as the distance between them opened up again. he swung his leg over the bike, grabbing his helmet from the handlebars, but before he put it on, he paused and looked back at her over his shoulder.
"don't walk back in the dark by yourself," he said, his tone commanding but lacking any malice. "stick to the main road."
"i know how to walk home, cameron," she shot back softly.
rafe just gave a short, single nod, pulling the helmet over his head. a second later, the engine roared to life, shattering the quiet of the churchyard. he pulled out onto the road.
the dark silhouette of the bike disappearing down the road within seconds, leaving clementine alone under the flickering streetlight.
she stood there for a long moment, the scent of gasoline and the faint trace of his cologne lingering in the damp air. her hands were still trembling slightly as she shoved them deep into her pockets. turning back toward the trail that led to the chateau, she realized the invisible line between the cut and figure eight hadn't just blurred tonight. for her, it was completely gone, and there was no going back.
the walk back to the chateau felt longer than usual. clementine kept her hands shoved deep into her pockets, her sneakers dragging against the gravel of the main road just like he’d told her to do. the island was completely quiet now, but her head felt incredibly loud.
when she finally slipped through the back door, the house was dark and still. john b was knocked out on the couch, snoring softly with a stray dog blanket kicked to the floor, and the old refrigerator was humming its usual low tune. everything was exactly where it belonged. it was her home, her territory, the safe side of the tracks.
but as she crawled into bed and stared up at the shadows stretching across her ceiling, she couldn't get her brain to shut off.
it was completely frustrating. she didn't like rafe cameron. she couldn't like him. he was unpredictable, reckless, and represented every single thing she spent her days mocking with the pogues. he was the guy who had looked at her friends like they were dirt under his shoes just twenty-four hours ago.
so why was his face the only thing stuck on a loop in her mind?
she rolled onto her side, pulling the thin blanket up to her chin, thoroughly annoyed with herself. it felt a lot like that song she’d heard drifting out of someone’s car radio earlier that week. that specific, haunting feeling of being completely consumed by someone you don't even actually know. someone you never dated, never held hands with, never shared a real life with. just a ghost of a person.
it wasn't romantic; it was just an obsession with a puzzle she couldn't solve. she kept replaying the way his armor had cracked for a split second in the dark, the way his voice had lost its elite kook edge when he said me too. it was the weird intimacy of a shared secret, a bizarre truce that didn't belong anywhere on this island.
clementine squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could just wash the whole night out of her head. but as the heavy hum of the summer crickets filled the bedroom, she realized she was stuck with the thoughts. she was stuck wondering about the boy from figure eight, completely tangled up in a headspace she never wanted to be in, unable to stop chasing the memory of a person she was supposed to hate.
turnnoffyourmind
snowghoul
jbbartram-illu
germansingergirl
