#willowswriting

The music was ringing in their ears, heavy bass trembling through the walls and spilling out into the humid night air. The party was alive -laughter, shouted conversations, the clinking of bottles- but for Rafe Cameron, it all blurred together into meaningless noise. Topper and Kelce sat across from him on the worn-out couch, exchanging tired glances every time he opened his mouth again.

—You just don't get it... she’s like... so perfect. And pretty -Rafe murmured, his voice slurred but still carrying that strange mix of awe and frustration. His eyes were half-lidded, fixed on the glowing rim of his beer bottle as if it held the answer to whatever was wrong with him.

Topper only nodded, his patience running thin after hearing the same speech for what felt like the tenth time in five minutes. Kelce rolled his eyes but didn’t bother interrupting anymore. They both knew there was no point.

—I miss talking to her -Rafe added, softer this time, almost to himself. The words hung in the air for a moment, fragile and soaked in alcohol. His dark blond hair fell over his forehead, and he rubbed a hand over his face, as if trying to erase the ache that came with saying her name in his head.

The music swelled again, drowning out his sigh. Outside, someone was shouting about a broken bottle. Inside, Rafe just leaned back, lost in thoughts he didn’t want to share, while his friends pretended not to notice the way his voice trembled when he said her name.

The boys drove him home. The road was silent except for the faint hum of the engine and the rhythmic tapping of Rafe’s fingers against the window. When they reached tannyhill, the headlights cut across the wide driveway, illuminating the tall, lonely façade. Topper and Kelce barely said a word -they just watched him stumble out of the car and disappear behind the heavy front doors.

The mansion was empty, and his room even emptier. Every corner seemed to echo with memories that didn’t want to fade. The silence pressed against his ears, louder than the music had ever been. Everything felt big, hollow... lifeless.

He sank onto the edge of his bed, staring at the shadows crawling across the floor, until suddenly, he wasn’t alone anymore.

She stood by the window, the pale moonlight tracing the outline of her face. For a moment, he forgot to breathe.

“It’s been a while since you’ve been here,” he said softly, his voice trembling as he pulled her into his arms. Her skin was colder than he remembered -almost freezing- but he ignored the shiver that ran down his spine. He just held her tighter, desperate to fill the void gnawing at his chest.

But the emptiness inside him didn’t fade. It grew, deeper and heavier, wrapping around him like fog. And as she leaned her head against his shoulder, he realized that the only warmth left in the room was the memory of who she used to be...

Snuggled in bed, he began to tell her about his plans -the ones he’d been keeping to himself for months. His words tumbled out clumsily, dreamlike, as if saying them aloud could somehow make them real. He spoke about taking over the family business, about finally proving everyone wrong, about buying a house by the water, somewhere quiet, where no one would bother them.

He smiled faintly as he went on, painting a future that sounded too beautiful to belong to him.

“We’ll get married,” he said, tracing circles on her arm, “and we’ll have as many kids as we can handle. A whole house full of noise and love. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

She just nodded, her eyes distant, her lips forming small, almost mechanical affirmations —yeah... sounds nice... sure, Rafe. Her voice was soft, a whisper dissolving into the dark.

He didn’t notice how cold the air had grown, or how pale she looked beneath the dim light. To him, everything seemed perfect again. Just like before.

Until the door opened.

The sound was sharp -too real, too sudden- and Rafe froze. The handle turned slowly, and a sliver of hallway light spilled across the floor, cutting through the illusion like a blade. His heart stuttered as he turned toward the door, dread crawling up his throat.“

—Who are you talking to? -asked Wheezie, her small voice breaking through the silence. She stood by the door, frowning, her hand still gripping the handle.

Rafe turned his head, blinking as if waking from a dream.

—What do you mean? -he started, his voice hoarse. But when he looked beside him, his words died in his throat.

The bed was empty.

The sheets, cold.

No dent on the pillow, no trace of warmth where she should’ve been.

His heart began to pound, the room spinning slowly around him. He ran a trembling hand over the blanket, as if the touch could bring her back -but there was nothing.

Just silence.

Just him.

—Rafe? -Wheezie whispered, her frown deepening. He didn’t respond. He just stared at the empty space next to him, the one that still felt occupied somehow, haunted by a presence that refused to leave his mind.

The echo of his own voice lingered in the air, fragile and fading:

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

And for the first time that night, Rafe couldn’t tell what was worse -that she was gone, or that maybe she had never been there at all.

—You need help -Wheezie said finally, rolling her eyes -not out of cruelty, but out of exhaustion.

She’d seen it before.

Too many times.

Another night. Another one of his whispers echoing down the hall. Another hug that existed only in her brother’s mind.

She stood there for a moment, watching him -the way his shoulders trembled, the way his eyes refused to meet hers. He looked lost, trapped somewhere between the past and the present.

—Good night, Rafe -she murmured, her voice softer now. But he didn’t answer.

As she turned off the hallway light and closed the door halfway, she caught one last glimpse of him sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing.

Another conversation with her... or with her memory.

And the house, vast and hollow, went silent once more —as if it, too, was tired of listening to ghosts.

He simply lay down where she should have been, stared at a fixed point and murmured "goodnight, love"

moodboard:

first line: rafe in the Outer Banks before meeting Italiansummergirl!reader

second line: rafe at Cameron Development

third line: rafe in Italy after meeting italiansummergirl!reader

futureceo!rafe who studied business administration and economics but dropped out because "it was too much pressure"

futureceo!rafe who is trying to leave behind her self-destructive face but the arrogance is still there, now dressed in expensive tailored suits and luxury watches.

futureceo!rafe who uses expressions like "business, you wouldn't understand" even though they are simple things.

futureceo!rafe who pretends to be indifferent but is actually obsessed with perfection. He needs everything to go well perfect because he fears losing everything, as he almost did in his adolescence.

futureceo!rafe who tries to differentiate himself from Ward but still inevitably repeats some patterns.

futureceo!rafe who drives a flashy luxury car but still has his first motorcycle and sometimes goes for late-night rides when he thinks life has become too much.

futureceo!rafe who collects expensive swiss watches but still never arrives on time.

futureceo!rafe who in the middle of some important and serious meeting, he makes some ironic comment that ruins all professionalism, because behind that facade he is still a spoiled rich.

futureceo!rafe is brutally competitive,If someone challenges him in the market, he takes it personally.

futureceo!rafe who in meetings, he wears his best charming smile… but his eyes say “I’d love to financially destroy you.”