𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃─𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬

sixty five.

─☼☼☼─

-RAFE-

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙎𝙊𝙉 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂 back at him was not someone he recognized. Not at all. 

But it was him on the other side of that mirror. No matter how badly he wished it was someone else, it was him. 

The water trickled into the sink, the steam from his shower still fogging up the bathroom. Slowly, the imagine of himself, the one he did not recognize, was clouded over, leaving nothing but a blurry image. 

A shaky sigh fell from his lips as he braced himself against the bathroom sink, not having the strength to stand on his own. 

It felt like his whole world had fallen down around him--slowly, and then all at once. 

Everything that he had done this summer...it had all led to this. 

He wanted to make his father proud but everyday that was becoming more and more difficult. 

Especially because of her. 

Instinctively, his eyes fell to his hands that were gripping the edges of the sink. His knuckles were turning white, veins wanting to pop from beneath his skin like a monster clawing to get out of a cage. He didn't release his grip on the surface despite the pain shooting through his digits, instead, he held on tighter as if to punish himself. 

He swore, no matter how many times he scrubbed them, that her blood still coated his hands, warm and sticky as it seeped from her body. He awoke most nights, in a cold sweat, his hands feeling as if they burned with blood. Her blood. 

A mangled noise fell from the back of his throat as he leaned forward, dropping his head as the memories of that day on the ship rushed back to him. 

It was his fault. 

It was always his fault. 

It always would be his fault. 

He had wanted to protect her, but instead he got her─

"Rafe!"

Wheezie's voice came from outside the bathroom door, loud and impatient. "It's gonna be dark by the time we get down there. Come on!"

Turning off the sink, Rafe pushed himself up, releasing the grasp he had been holding. His knuckles ached, palms still feeling the ghost coating of blood.

"I'm coming." He assured, voice cracking slightly. "Just give me a minute."

A string of mumbles came from the other side of the door before the footsteps of Wheezie could be heard retreating further into the house. 

Facing the mirror again, Rafe ran a hand over his buzzed hair, again not recognizing himself in the steamed up mirror. 

He wasn't who he was supposed to be. Not anymore. 

Every step he took, it felt like he walked further and further from the person he once was. 

The door to the bedroom creaked as he entered.