𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬? | rafe cameron

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎

꧁🝮꧂

I arrived at the Cameron's residence. God, it was still late. I came here after... after, I went to John b's, with JJ and my other friends. I cleaned his wounds. Fuck, his face was bad, he had a cut, bloody lip. And a bruised eye.

I left so horrible. My stomach dropped when I seen his face.

Fuck, I must've punched one of Kelce's bone's because my knuckles are throbbing.

I blow out a huff. Whilst I raised my arms, sliding off my helmet slowly. I push one leg off my motorcycle, then the other. Both of my trainers hitting the ground softly.

I set my helmet down on my black, matte seat. Rafe, I told him I didn't hate him as much, I bloody told him it was fading away. Because, it was. And I have no fucking idea why.

No idea why.

Why, I keep thinking about his lips, his words from days ago, his words from earlier. How can he just say that? How can he just say he'd kill.. any man who touches me.

He had no right. No fucking right. And, I knew it was him who started that fight. That's why I'm here, I was supposed to be anyways. But I wasn't planning on it until what happened.

I knew Rafe was here, considering I parked beside his car. Which looked like he hurried to park. God.

How could he, do this, start this fight. Make me think about him?

Fuck.

I hurried to push my curls behind my ears, they've blown in my face multiple times on the way here, fuck, I sped. I sped because of Rafe.

Because he's getting a piece of my bloody mind, or better, a bloody face.

My hooded eyes narrow on the large mansion, as I hurried to walk to the front door, raising my hand and twisting the silver knob gently, then pushing it open.

The house wasn't dark, there was little light illuminating little of the house, and I could see it was from the kitchen, just from being able to see little of it. The kitchen didn't have an door. So, it made it easy tor see.

I take a quick step forward, quickly shutting the tall door shut behind me. My hand falls from the knob. Whilst I let my arms dangle by my sides.

I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, sucking anxiously. Please let that be Rafe, god. He deserve to be smacked, punched. Fucking anything.

And still, I know, even if I do that, I still won't be able to hate him again.

I suck in a deep breath, before I move my legs before I can think about it. I stalk through the hall, one of my hands grazing it whilst I did so.

My eyes scan the long hallway, until I turn into the open doorway too the dining room, the kitchen was by it. The long hallways use to bother be here, but I've come to be use to it.

My eye sight soon gets blinded with bright light from the kitchen as I stand by the open doorway of it, whilst I lean my side against the doorframe.

The cold air of the kitchen blew onto me, making chills erupt on my skin. Before my eyes scan the room, landing on Rafe.

Rafe.

He was sitting on a stool, his arms folded down onto the black marble counter, his face down, pushed into his forearms. His hair was a bundle of mess on his head.

But oddly, he looked handsome.

Handsome. Fuck, I think I've hit my head, multiple times. Over and fucking over.