𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐓 ― rafe cameron

επτά ; 7

song of the chapter:
NOT YOU TOO ; drake , chris brown

Margarita woke the next morning to the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the curtains in Sarah's guest room. The house was still quiet, the peacefulness of early morning wrapping her in a sense of calm she hadn't felt in a while. She stretched lazily in the bed, savoring the warmth of the blankets and the lingering comfort of the previous night with her friends.

But as the memories of the night before began to fade, the familiar weight of her insecurities and doubts crept back in. She lay there for a few minutes, staring up at the ceiling, trying to push away the gnawing voice in her head that told her she wasn't enough. The silence in the room felt heavier now, oppressive even, and she knew that staying in bed would only make it worse.

With a soft sigh, Margarita pulled herself out of bed and quietly tiptoed to the bathroom. As she stood in front of the mirror, her reflection stared back at her, tired but resolute. She splashed cold water on her face, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, and ran her fingers through her curls. They were frizzy from the saltwater, wild and untamed, but there was something about them that felt like her. She tied them up into a loose bun, not wanting to fight with them this morning.

After getting dressed in Sarah's borrowed clothes—a soft sweatshirt and comfortable shorts—Margarita headed downstairs. The scent of coffee greeted her, and she found Sarah already in the kitchen, pouring two mugs of the steaming liquid.

"Morning," Sarah greeted her with a smile. "How'd you sleep?"

"Good," Margarita replied, her voice still groggy as she accepted the mug. "Thanks for letting me crash here last night."

"Anytime," Sarah said, waving it off. "You seemed like you needed the company. I'm just glad we got you out of the house for a bit."

Margarita took a sip of coffee, letting the warmth spread through her. "Yeah, it was nice... just being around everyone. I've been in my own head too much lately."

Sarah leaned against the counter, watching her closely. "You've been really quiet recently. I mean, I get it, adjusting to this place and all, but... is everything okay?"

The question hung in the air, and Margarita felt a lump form in her throat. She didn't want to burden Sarah with her feelings, especially when Sarah had her own stuff to deal with. But as she met Sarah's gaze, she realized she couldn't keep pushing people away. Not anymore.

"I don't know," Margarita admitted, her voice small. "I feel like I'm struggling to figure out who I am here. I miss Greece, and I don't know where I fit in. And... I hate the way I look, how I feel in my own skin. It's like I'm stuck between who I was and who I'm supposed to be, and neither feels right."

Sarah frowned, her face softening with empathy. She set her mug down and walked over to Margarita, pulling her into a gentle hug. "I'm sorry you feel like that," she murmured. "But you don't have to do this alone, okay? We're all here for you. And for what it's worth, you're amazing just the way you are."

Margarita leaned into the hug, grateful for Sarah's unwavering support. She didn't respond right away, but the words settled into her heart, giving her a small sliver of hope.

Around the wall, where neither girl had seen, Rafe stood, and listened, and understood. He knew how the girl felt, he knew exactly the position she was in, and he knew the options he was using weren't healthy but they do work. Walking away from the two girls he walked back up to his room, sat on his bed, and replayed the words she had said in his mind over and over again.

The rest of the morning passed in quiet companionship. They lounged around the house, watched TV, and ate breakfast. But as the day progressed, the peace of the morning began to fade. Margarita's phone buzzed with a notification, and when she glanced at it, her heart sank.