#c;rafe

Rafe leaned a slender hip against the doorway, fingers threading through the pages of the aged volume, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “This one can finish off that top row.” the thought warmed him, the very idea that he had enough books to fill up an entire shelf. More so, that he had a home in which that shelf resided.

He glanced up, still smiling, something he did more than he had in his life. “Do you need some help in here before I put this away?”

SOME MEME I LOST WHOOPS

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Her words catch him off guard and he turns around, a bit sharply to face her. Long before? Rafe swallowed hard and stared back at the girl drinking a Coke on the end of his bed.

He knew she loved him, he couldn’t yet understand why and he himself was allowing himself to be loved and to love her in return. But for her to say she’d loved him before he KNEW that she loved him?

“You’ve loved me a long time.” his question comes out as more of a disbelieving statement though his insides are warmed with the idea that while he was busy feeling unlovable--she was loving him.

When Rafe used to picture his life--this wasn’t how it was supposed to turn out. He wasn’t supposed to be on this kind of track, not this kind of lifestyle. He had also never banked on meeting someone. Meeting someone and actually giving a shit about them. He shook his head, tried not to think about it right now. 

Rafe jogged the last few steps until he reached the door, knocking quickly for a respite from the rain that seemed to beat down in an annoying drizzle rather than really committing to raining. He raked his fingers through his hair as he once more tried to rehearse what he was going to tell Adonis. He wasn’t good with conversation in the first place and this was a heavy conversation, one not most normal people would have.

But he had to tell him. It wouldn’t be fair ( or safe ) to not tell the other male. Rafe swallowed past the lump in his throat, his mouth suddenly dry as he bounced slightly in anticipation and for a fleeting moment, thought about turning and going back down the street to disappear, never to have this conversation--

                                 “––You gonna introduce me to your friends, Rafey?” 

Rafe actually hated the part of him that was refusing to love her. The what ifs and the ‘something bad’s going to happen’ were too loud, leaving no room for anything else. Yet she still stayed. She willingly stayed, knowing how big of a fuck up he was.

He didn’t bristle up or pull away when she laid her hand on his chest. He welcomed the contact as it was with a want to just touch him, be close to him--she wanted nothing from him safe his presence. 

It’s an overcast day, Rafe’s favorite kind of day and he’s out and about taking a few photographs before he has to get back to work at the studio. He likes capturing clouds, giving him dreams of when he was younger and wishing he could just fly away. 

He’s taking a panoramic and not paying attention, crashing shoulders with another human. Rafe’s first instinct is to snap and growl, but upon lowering the camera he can’t find it in himself to do it when he recognizes her face.

Rafe is transported back in time, seeing his younger self, bruised and scared for his life, needing an out and a place to hide--and there was her, extending a helping hand, with no expectation of any kind of ‘payment’.

It was late and seeing as how Rafe had no plans to sleep anytime soon, he’d taken to spending time in the bar having a drink and of course, smoke after smoke. It helped to numb. 

Rafe pauses in bringing his cigarette back to his lips as hazel eyes narrow on a figure making her way into the bar. She seems familiar, though Rafe cannot place where he’d know her from. He’s not too worried about it, as he really doesn’t care about people, preferring that they leave him alone.

He’s not worried about it--until she calls him by a name he’s not used to hearing, one he thought he had killed a long time ago.

“I said don’t call me cute.” Rafe said, but most of the fight was out of him.