THE PICTURE OF YOU -rafe cameron-

095; kicked out

It had been a quiet evening, for the last hour or so at least. Myra had locked herself in her small bedroom after an argument that JJ had found himself in with their dad, resulting with the both of them taking off from the house. She had no idea where her father went, but she was pretty sure that JJ had ran off to John B's place, leaving her by herself in the old fishing shack. It was for the best anyways. She put on her record player, being careful not to turn the volume up too high in case her dad came storming back home in a bad mood. Myra didn't want to be the reason for yet another stupid argument, she was tired of it by now.

Myra was sat by her desk, humming along to the music as she drew in a notebook. A hobby she had picked up as a kid. She wasn't very good, according to herself, but it had a calming effect on her jumpy nerves. As the soft tunes of some old surf rock album played, Myra heard a light tap on her window. She looked up, furrowing her eyebrows. She turned her head to glance at the window, still holding onto her pen, seeing absolutely nothing. It was dark outside by now, the moon casting its eerie glow on the trees and the marsh. She waited another second, nothing, before she turned back towards her notepad. She managed to draw another few lines before the tap was heard again, a little louder this time. She couldn't be imagining that she thought to herself, putting the pen down before standing up. Carefully the young pouge girl dragged her feet across her bedroom, stopping just by the window. She looked out, completely taken aback as to what her eyes landed on, or rather who.

"Rafe?" Myra asked surprised as she slid the window up, popping her head out to look at him. There he stood, his blue eyes lighting up the darkness of the evening. He was dressed in the same blue shirt and khaki shorts as she had seen him in before. In his hands he held a bunch of pebbles. "Hey" Rafe spoke a second later, his voice a little raspy and uncertain. Myra tilted her her to the right, gazing upon him as the moonlight danced upon his fair skin. He looked like some kind of an angel in the dim light, his chest heaving up and down. Rafe had walked to her place, he knew it wasn't too far from Berry's messy trailer home. He had made sure to learn the way there from the few times that he had dropped Myra off, even if she rarely let him drive all the way up the driveway. The walk from Barry's place, where his dad had left him, to the small fishing shack where Myra lived had taken Rafe just about ten minutes or so, maybe a little longer. His head was full of intrusive thoughts and every bone in his body ached. He didn't know where to go or what to do. His fists had been clenched all the way to Myra's place, otherwise he would've probably pulled out all of his hair. It was late, he wasn't sure she'd even be home. It was a wildcard, she was his one and only wildcard. He hadn't exactly decided to go to her place either, it was just where he found himself, where his feet had taken him. He had sneaked around her house, seeing the place being rather dark except from a porch light that was on.    Light was probably the wrong word, after all the power wasn't back on this side of the island yet and pouges such as Myra and her family couldn't afford generators. It was more of a burning candle in a lantern, one that Myra made sure to light whenever she was home. It made things feel more normal to her and it was something her dad could look for whenever he was out in the middle of the night doing only god knows what. It was a light to bring him home. It rarely worked, but Myra still kept on lighting the candle. As Rafe went around the small home, careful not to make a noise, he saw another light. A faint glimmering light. It was coming from a back window. There he saw her, sitting with her back towards him. Myra, his pearl. He barely dared to call her his girlfriend, it still felt unreal and unusual. But she was after all. She was leaned over something at her desk, her blonde hair gathered into a loose braid resting against her back. She looked peaceful, Rafe thought to himself.

"What are you doing here?" Myra asked, hanging out of the window to get a better look at him. He looked a little broken, a hollow stare in his ocean blue eyes. His jaw was clenched and his skin looked a little pale. Myra watched him as he dropped the pebbles in his hand, letting them fall to the ground by his expensive shoes. Rafe took a step closer to her window, his lips parting as his face softened a little. "My dad kicked me out and uhm... I didn't know where to go..." he trailed, a faint tremble in the tone of his voice, "can I stay with you? Just for tonight". Myra was quick to answer with a nod of her head, "yeah of course". She didn't hesitate, she knew first handedly how much it sucked to have a douchebag as a father. She pushed the window open a little further, reaching her hands out towards him as to help him climb into her room. His cold hands grabbed a hold of hers, sending pure jolts of electricity through her whole body. Suddenly there he was, standing in her room, closing the window behind him, Rafe Cameron.