Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
─ ☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆ ─
"Bro, the kid on Glock - 17 like, I mean."
Ophelia had tried to ignore her arrogant boyfriend, completely unaware of the fact he was speaking louder than usual, earning plentiful stares from those surrounding the Country Club. Rafe didn't care, regardless. He only cared about Ophelia.
The Martin girl had been in the middle of requesting a glass of water, for Rafe, when she noticed how he had been throwing himself around, careless as to everyone else around him. It was then she stepped in, slipping past the couple next to her, steadying out her hands to keep Rafe from toppling into anyone.
The gesture had failed, miserably, one minute Rafe was pretending to shoot a gun, the next, knocking back into Ophelia, whom of course, had fell back with him.
An an older gentleman, one resembling Ophelia's father's age, was quick to wrap his hands around her waist, his eyes falling short of the Martin girl who was now draped over his lap. "What the fuck?"
Ophelia was quick to scramble to her feet, ignoring Rafe Camerons burning stare as his eyes narrowed down on the elder gentleman, who's hands were removed from Ophelia's waist faster than they had been put there.
"Excuse me?" The man replied. "Do you mind?" Rafe had grabbed ahold of Ophelia's forearm in the process, his fingers wrapping tightly around the tender skin, tugging her beside him, then behind him, as if to prove a point.
"Do I mind?" Rafe chuckled dryly. "Do you mind not touching my girlfriend?" The man hadn't seem phased, unaware that Rafe Cameron was not a normal teenage Kook attending the Country Club, but held animalistic ways that stemmed from the gates of Hell.
"Come on, pussy." Rafe pushed himself away from Ophelia, his knees bending as either elbow placed gently on the counter space. "You know what I do to asshole's like you?" Again, complete ignorance towards the Cameron boy, who kept his stone cold stare.
"I will slit your fucking throat."
Rafe Cameron chucked dryly as he emptied the shot in hand, pouring it over the man who hadn't seemed bothered by Rafe's taunting words. Now, although, he had. Rising from his seat, Rafe was forcefully shoved back, in which the Cameron boy retaliated by clenching his hand into a fist, the next minute, meeting with the side of his face.
Once he had started, he couldn't stop. His inner ears were ringing, his neck flushed red and all he could see was hands hovering over Ophelia's hips. Hands that weren't his.
Ophelia had been screaming. Loudly, although her voice hadn't been heard by the one person she was calling for. Rafe had went temporarily numb, not a single thing around him seemingly to pull him back to his natural state.
