❝ WON'T TAKE MY EYES OFF THE BALL AGAIN. YOU REEL ME OUT THEN YOU CUT THE STRING. ❞ ☓ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩.
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trigger warning . . .
ⵌ this story contains...
❝ hey, sarah, valencia. can we offer you a tasty old milwaukee beverage ? ❞
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i. Pogues will be pogues 5100words
VALENCIA PULLED HERSELF OFF THE BED, TUGGING HER SHIRT OVER HER HEAD, her blonde hair a wild mess, like she'd just survived a storm. In reality, it was just another night spent at the Cameron's house. With Rafe. It wasn't anything serious—just another make-out session. Nothing as intense as what went down at that party a few days ago, but still, it wasn't just innocent kissing either.
There was a bit of touching, a little more than she'd initially intended, but that was becoming a pattern. Valencia was dead serious when she'd sworn never to sleep with one of those 'island' boys, and she'd held to that promise. Whatever was happening with Rafe, he knew the score—he wasn't getting anything more from her.
To her surprise, he'd accepted it without a fight, quicker than she'd expected. There was something unspoken between them, a line that he seemed to understand he couldn't cross. That boundary gave her a strange sense of control, but it also left her wondering why he stuck around.
Valencia glanced at her phone as it rang on the dresser. She sighed, sitting back on the bed—the bed that still held a shirtless Rafe, sprawled out beside her. Picking up the phone, she answered with a tired voice, "Oui, papa." (Yes, dad.) Her tone was flat, drained, as if she hadn't just spent the night tangled up with one of the island's most notorious Kooks.
As she spoke, she felt Rafe shift behind her, the mattress dipping as he turned to face her. "Je reviens bientôt. Je suis juste..." (I'll be back soon. I'm just..) Her voice trailed off as an arm snaked around her waist, pulling her back against the warmth of his chest. She glanced over her shoulder, meeting Rafe's eyes, already awake and locked onto her. "...avec Averyrose," (I'm with Averyrose,) she finished, her voice softening as she spun the lie with ease.
"Mhm," Valencia mumbled as she hung up the phone and placed it back on the dresser. She let out a sigh, finally turning to face Rafe.
"What? You're leaving?" Rafe asked, his voice groggy, still laced with the remnants of sleep. Valencia nodded, her expression unreadable.
"My dad's looking for me," she replied, her tone matter-of-fact. "I was supposed to be gone an hour ago." She glanced down at his arm draped over her and pointed at it. "And I have to go now."
Rafe released her without protest, his actions casual, almost routine. This was their thing—it was always casual. He loved the idea of having her in his room, even without going all the way. But there was no denying that he hoped she'd cave eventually. After all, who wouldn't want to sleep with Rafe Cameron?
