#pgoue!readerxrafe

“the hell are you doin’ out here?” his voice cut through the night, sharp, laced with that usual edge you’d heard about. “pogue wandering around this late, kinda asking for trouble, don’t you think?”

your throat worked, but no words came out. you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, suddenly aware of how messy you must look, eyes swollen, lip trembling, clothes hanging loose over bruises you couldn’t hide.

rafe squinted, taking a step closer like he was sizing you up. “what, cat got your tongue? or you just lookin’ for pity?”

his words stung, and you shifted back a step. but the smirk on his lips faded almost instantly when his eyes dragged lower, catching the dark marks along your arms, the split skin, the way you flinched.

“shit,” he muttered, like the word escaped before he could stop it. “who did that to you?”

your chest squeezed. “don’t,” you whispered, shaking your head. “please don’t.”

he stopped a few feet from you, raising his hands slightly like he was scared of spooking you. his tone was different now, rougher but gentler all at once. “s’ok. i’m not gonna touch you. just—” his throat bobbed, words rougher now, “you shouldn’t be out here like this. it’s not safe.”

you laughed bitterly, though it cracked halfway. “nowhere’s safe.”

the silence stretched, broken only by your shaky breathing. rafe’s jaw flexed, his fists clenching at his sides like he wanted to break something, but he stayed still, steady.

“look,” he said after a moment, softer, “you can come with me. tanyhill’s not far. you don’t have to stay, not if you don’t want. just… you look like you need somewhere that’s not here.”

the idea of following him felt dangerous. you didn’t know him, not really. you’d heard stories, whispers about temper and trouble, and your whole body was already wired to flinch at the first sign of anger. but something in his voice tugged at you, something raw and unpracticed.

“why?” you asked finally, voice breaking. “why would you even care?”

his eyes softened, and for a second, the usual smugness you associated with his face was gone. “’cause no one else seems to,” he murmured. “and i can’t just leave you like this.”

your lip trembled again, and you hated yourself for it. you didn’t want to need anyone. but your legs were shaking, your chest aching, and the thought of going back to that house made you want to curl into the dirt right there.

so you nodded. barely.

rafe moved carefully, like every step closer was something he had to earn. when he reached you, he tilted his head toward the road. “c’mon. you can walk with me. s’ok, i’ll keep my distance.”

the walk was quiet, but not heavy. he kept to your side but not too close, glancing at you every so often like he was making sure you were still breathing. the night air smelled like salt and pine, the distant hum of crickets filling the space where neither of you spoke.

by the time tanyhill came into view, your body felt like it was running on fumes. rafe noticed. he slowed his steps, his voice low. “almost there. you’re doin’ good.”

the cameron estate looked like another world, towering and warm-lit against the dark. you hesitated at the edge of the driveway, suddenly overwhelmed. “i shouldn’t—”

“hey,” rafe interrupted gently. “you don’t have to explain. just come inside for a bit. get cleaned up, get some water. if you still wanna leave after, i’ll drive you wherever you want.”

you didn’t answer, but when he pushed open the door and stepped back for you, you followed.

the inside smelled faintly like wood polish and something expensive you couldn’t name. rafe led you into the living room, flicking on a lamp that cast a soft golden glow. “sit,” he said quietly, nodding to the couch.

you sank down, fingers knotting in your lap. rafe disappeared into the kitchen, the sound of cabinets opening and water running filling the silence, then came back with a glass and a damp cloth.

“here.” he set them on the coffee table in front of you, careful not to crowd.

your hands shook as you reached for the glass. the cool water slid down your throat, grounding you just enough. when you set it back, rafe was crouched across from you, eyes searching your face.

“can i…?” he asked, nodding at the cloth.

you hesitated, but finally gave the faintest nod.

he moved slowly, almost painfully so, as he dabbed at the streaks on your cheek. his touch was gentle, nothing like the hands you were used to.

“does it hurt bad?” he asked quietly.

“not really,” you lied.

his eyes narrowed slightly, like he wanted to call you out, but he didn’t. instead, he leaned back, resting his arms on his knees.

“you don’t gotta tell me what happened,” he said after a while. “but… if you ever want to, i’ll listen.”

the tears burned again, spilling over before you could stop them. you hated crying in front of anyone, but something about the way he said it, like he wasn’t asking for details, just offering a place to put them, broke something in you.

rafe didn’t move right away. he let you cry, let you breathe through it. then, when you finally whispered, “i can’t go back there,” his jaw tightened.

“then don’t,” he said firmly. “stay here. stay as long as you need.”

you shook your head. “i can’t—”

“you can,” he cut in, voice softer this time. “no one’s gonna touch you here. not while i’m around.”

your chest ached, but for the first time in forever, the ache wasn’t just fear. it was something else, hope maybe. fragile, but real.

and when rafe finally leaned back into the couch beside you, leaving space but close enough that you could feel his warmth, you didn’t pull away. you just sat there, bruised and broken, but not alone.

and for tonight, that was enough.

author's note