Pretty When You Cry ୨୧ Rafe Cameron

thirty two

Inescapable. That's how Rafe felt to her. She could run and she could hide but she'd end up with him in the end. That's fate.

They were lying on the couch watching 10 Things I Hate About You. His arm was around her, and they shared the recliner and a bowl of buttery popcorn. Rafe cracked a joke that this movie reminded him of them.

Even after Isla's bitter interaction with her dad earlier, she found a level of normalcy in this moment. They weren't even together, they never even said anything about the kiss. Yet, there was a certain level of intimacy to just sitting on the sofa kicking back watching the television. Like they were a couple of something.

'Could life just stay this simple forever?' Isla sighed, leaning her head down on Rafe's shoulder.

'I wish,' Rafe laughed.

He was so happy she was happy, even if it could be just for an hour or two. So fucking happy.

He didn't care what this was. They didn't hate each other anymore, and that was a step in the right direction. Rafe didn't even understand how he ever despised her. Her presence was heavenly. Everything about her was straight out of a poem. A world without her in it wouldn't be worthwhile.

Isla was beginning to see Rafe in a better manner. He was being a sweetheart. Maybe in his heart, this was who he always was, he just didn't know how to do it.

She wasn't even drunk. Or high. And here she was, spending time with Rafe Cameron, not just making out or sleeping with him. This was much more personal, and emotional.

She grabbed him by the jaw and pulled him in slowly for a kiss. As the kiss went on, it got more and more passionate. Rafe's hand landed on her waist and their tongues were twirling around in each other's mouths.

Her hand went down to his belt buckle. Then he broke away from the kiss.

'Isla,' he exhaled.

'Hmm?' she replied.

'We can't. I don't wanna rush this and ruin it Isla,' Rafe said softly as he brushed his hand against her cheek, looking deeply into her blue eyes.

He wanted her. Of course, he did. But he didn't have any interest in doing the meaningless thing with her again. He wanted to be with her. Hell, he was pretty sure he wanted to marry her someday. Maybe he was falling for her a bit too fast, but that's just how he felt.

Isla sighed. He was right, of course, he was. She didn't want to fly through this either. She wanted to see if she could trust him, and maybe they could go from there. He was just so attractive that not touching him was hard, especially with his new haircut she was coming to love. And all the muscle he'd built.

Rafe observed her. She still didn't look well. She was dangerously skinny and still looked exhausted all the time. He didn't want to use her when she was vulnerable. He was trying to not be that person anymore. He wanted to be a good person.

'We can still make out though,' Isla suggested with a devious smirk on her face.

'Fuck yeah we can,' Rafe chuckled, leaning in to kiss her once again as she climbed on top of him.

———

Two days passed with the same routine:

Rafe made breakfast for Isla, and each time it was divine.

They drank coffee and talked on the balcony.

They went for a walk and ignored the hundreds of people shocked to see Isla alive.

They watched movies for hours. One day that entailed the entire Harry Potter series.