Pretty When You Cry ୨୧ Rafe Cameron

twenty five

The Pogues were busy dealing with some gold adjacent stuff, well a massive cross made of pure gold. Long story short, they found out Pope was related to Denmark Tanny and a bunch of information that could lead them to the cross. Isla had helped a lot, but today she needed downtime— to not go to school, not rush around with the Pogues. She needed to sit in her bed eating chocolate and watching Gossip Girl, which she did.

She hadn't heard from Rafe since his father died, hell she didn't even know if he was alive. It was bothering her so badly she sent him a text, which got no response. Worries flooded through her head. What if he overdosed? She knew Rafe coped with his problems through drugs and alcohol, similar to herself recently. What if he crossed the line?

She got on her bike and started the long bike ride to Figure Eight. When she approached Tannyhill it looked like nobody was home, only Rafe, as only his black Mercedes sat in the driveway.

Hesitantly, each footstep feeling dangerous, she went up to knock the door. She knocked twice, sort of hoping to get no answer. She hadn't exactly considered what she'd actually say to Rafe.

But he swung open the door, looking at her purely confused. 'Isla? What are you doing here?'

'You never answered my texts,' Isla started, 'I didn't know if you were alright, I'm glad to see you are though.'

Rafe was more than pleased to see her standing at his doorstep. He was alright, for some reason Isla couldn't understand. There was something off, but she couldn't put a finger on it.

Rafe couldn't help but stare. She looked so soft with her hair up in that messy bun and reading glasses on. Rafe knew she'd never recover from what he did from her, but sometimes he just prayed she would, so the two of them could just have a chance. A chance was enough.

Rafe's problems were plenty to handle already, but she was another. She was everything. He knew he messed up multiple times in substantial ways— but he was so scared. So scared of losing his dad on the tarmac, scared of making him angry. He just wanted to please him. Rafe was like any other monster. Most monsters are most dangerous when they are afraid.

'Thank you for worrying about me,' he said, plastering smile onto his face.

'I don't know why I do. But I fucking can't stop,' Isla said, her tone increasingly frustrated. 'Sorry.'

'No I get it. I don't deserve your worry,' Rafe answered, his walls that created his cocky exterior crumbling down.

'I don't know about that,' Isla murmured.

'Come in,' Rafe gestured to her to come inside.

Isla stepped into the foyer of the mansion that she'd slept many nights in during her time forced to listen to the Cameron's commands. Their empty promises.

'I'm sorry about lying about the uh— money. My dad, he made me,' Rafe explained apologetically. It was hard for Rafe to express how he felt. Every word that had came out of his mouth sounded like he had to pause and think about it.

'That was a uh, low blow. Even for you people,' Isla sighed. 'Sorry about JJ beating the crap out of you though.'

'I earned that too,' Rafe answered.

'I've gotta ask. Why didn't you fight back? When JJ was hitting you, you never hit back. Not once,' Isla asked.

'Didn't wanna hurt you and your friends any more than I have,' he replied. This was a rare moment of genuineness from Rafe. Even though the way he said it made it sound so casual, Isla was aware of how much it took for him not to kill JJ then and there. 'Where are your friends anyways?' Rafe asked.