THE PICTURE OF YOU -rafe cameron-

052; a new feeling

Is this what fairytales are made up of?

The moment that changed everything in between the kook boy and the pouge girl, their very first kiss, it was like something straight out of a fairytale Myra thought as Rafe's lips left hers. A eerie coldness swept in as she leaned back, slowly opening her eyes. Her heart was beating out of her chest, or so it felt like at least. She looked up at him, their blue eyes meeting and the warmth returning to her. She smiled, unable to do anything else. It was a wide and happy smile, baring her teeth. She was left speechless, her lips still slightly parted. She barely moved, feeling somewhat enchanted. Rafe looked at her like she was some kind of an angel, his hands falling from her face to rest on her hips.

"Fuck" he mumbled, his voice weak and raspy. Myra giggled, still feeling her heart beat like crazy within her chest. "Mhm" she mumbled back, her voice gentle and soft. Rafe's gaze darted all over her. He had something so mixed about him as he sat there in front of her. One part of him was soft and gentle in the light of the bonfire flames and another part looked overly pleased and just simply cocky. Like he had won a price or conquered a hard task. Nervous jitters were still flooding through Myra's veins, making it hard for her to sit still. Harder than usual at least. She saw Rafe nod his head to himself, his bottom lip pushed up against his top one in a confident way. "I've wanted to do that for a while" he confessed after another few seconds, his cocky expression lingering upon his face. Myra watched as the warm orange flames flashed across his skin, illuminating his bright blue eyes in the dim light of the late evening. "What? Kiss me?" she asked teasingly, her eyebrows slightly raised. "Mhm" Rafe now mumbled, leaning in to grab her face once more. The palm of his left hand rested upon her jaw, his thumb extending up to stroke her rosy cheek. Myra could feel Rafe's rough fingertips wrap around her upper neck, keeping her still in her place. His mere touch was mesmerizing. "Actually..." he trailed, a smug smirk upon his lips as his gaze wandered from Myra's blue eyes down to her glossy lips, "I wanna kiss you again"

Myra could barely get another breath in before Rafe's lips once more reconnected with hers, sending jolts of strong electricity through her small framed body. Every inch of her being was somehow drawn to him, melting right beneath his touch. Myra had never thought she would be so easily persuaded by a boy, especially someone like him who belonged on the other side of the island. But here she was, leaning onto him as their lips moved in perfect sync, like they were made for each other. Formed in the same mould. Rafe's hand trailed down to the back of Myra's neck, pulling her closer to him as he deepened the kiss. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before. Magical, mysterious and mesmerizing. Like some kind of undeniable energy sent from the universe to the two of them. Myra dragged her hands up Rafe's torso, resting them by the base of his neck. A faint and barely audible moan slipped past the kook boy's lips as she risped her bottom teeth on his bottom lip. It had been an accident but he had seemed to like it nevertheless so Myra took a risk, biting down on his lip ever so lightly, testing the water. She was new to this, so she didn't exactly know what to do. Rafe hummed against her lips, his hands dragging down her back in a swift motion. He grabbed the back of her thighs, lifting her onto him. He moved so effortlessly, like this wasn't a big deal to him at all. Myra was now sat on Rafe's lap, her heart beating harder than ever before. His hands rested on the small of her back, holding her still. Myra gasped as his fingertips slid underneath the hem of her shirt, caressing her bare skin. She found her own hands at the back of Rafe's neck, tugging lightly at his hair.

Time had stopped, at least to the two of them as they sat there by the fire kissing. But soon enough they were interrupted by a hysterical laughter. It rang out into the late evening air, forcing the both of them back to reality. Rafe pulled away, fury now clear upon his chiseled face. Myra let her hands fall from his scalp to his shoulders. A clear pink hue was burning upon her cheeks, making her turn her head away. She wasn't sure she had ever blushed this hard before. Rafe looked past her, seeing Barry stood a few metres away from them. He was holding a half empty bottle of whiskey in his right hand and he sported a bright toothy smile upon his lips. His whole face shone in a annoying kind of pleasant way, like the pouge boy with the small dirt stain by his nose was on top of the world. Rafe looked back at Myra, feeling a familiar kind of rage spreading through every vein in his body. "I'll handle this" he growled lowly, a firm grip on her waist. Myra didn't have the time to even begin to utter a single word before Rafe had lifted her off of him and walked off. So she sat on the log watching him stomp off, now deprived of his previous warmth and excitement.