//Rafe Cameron\\
"You don't make deals with the devil, not unless you want to dance with him and maybe I did"
Lily Grant has spent her whole life slumming it with the pogues, being that she is one.
They're her day ones, her best friends. Life coul...
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I'm curled up in the corner of my bed, wrapped in my oversized flannel, glaring down at the plastic bag concealing ugly green temptation. Does it know how ugly it is? I hope it does.
The clack of the rackety screen opening sounds before the loose door handle jiggles. My door to the back of the house pops open and Rafe steps in. The warm glow of the sunsetting fills the outside behind him.
His hand still secured around the knob as his eyes flicker from me to the baggy lying across the room. A moment of silence for my insanity before he rolls his eyes and closes the door behind him. "Don't look at me like that" I tell him, watching as he snatches the baggy up off the ground before taking two strides across the room to my dresser. Dropping it on top. My eyes sweeping up and down the entirety of his six foot four frame. Wearing dark denim jeans, a black hoodie that's halfway unzipped, revealing a white tee shirt beneath.
My hands burn with need to touch him. I've missed him despite my attempts to stay away. I needed the space before I lost my mind but I think I lost it more trying to to put distance between us.
"Like what?" He crosses the room to me. "Like I'm insane" I crawl across the bed, sitting back on my heals, opening my arms and wrapping them around his torso as he comes to stand in front of my bed. Burying my face in his shirt, feeling the firm divots of his abs beneath his clothing. The intoxicating familiar scent of his seeping into my senses; filling my entire being with warm. Spicy and masculine. A small hint of pine and musk. Him.
"You're glaring at a bag of weed" He informs me, one arm wrapping around me while his large palm covers the back of my head, his fingertips massaging my scalp. Easing my sizzling nerves and diluting the desire to beat my head against the wall until the urge fades to consume anything that will drug my brain.
"Is the duration of your space up?" He asks after a moment. My stomach fluttering uneasily. My arms tightening around him as my cheek scrapes the fabric of his shirt with a nod.
His question referring to how I deliberately ignored him for three days after our breakfast date and he kissed me in front of his friends like I was his.
And maybe the way he flat out said I was more than once. The statement causing a war of emotions to clash inside of me. The muscle in my chest bled with oozing warmth and shot fireworks of hope through my veins. It felt like blood rushed back into areas it had been void of, giving life back to pieces of me that were dead. Happiness has never caused tears to form behind my eyes. I've never been an emotional person and certainly not one who cried over something like that but in that moment I wanted to sob and crawl into his skin just to be closer to him.
