𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐓 ― rafe cameron

δεκαπέντε ; 15

song of the chapter:
WORST IN US ; d3puu

Margarita stared at the closed door, Rafe's sudden departure leaving her in a whirlwind of confusion and doubt. The warmth of the moment, the tentative connection they had shared, now felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by his abrupt exit.

She took a step back, feeling the weight of the silence in her room pressing down on her. Her gaze drifted to the gifts she had brought him, still sitting on her bed, untouched. Her heart ached as she thought of the vulnerability he had shown, the fear in his eyes when he had tried to tell her about his struggles. And now he was gone, just like that, leaving her to grapple with the aftermath alone.

Margarita took a shaky breath and sat down on the edge of her bed, her thoughts racing. She had hoped her return would bring a sense of normalcy, that being back home would help her find her footing again. But now she wasn't so sure.

Was coming back the right choice?

She looked around her room, at the familiar walls adorned with Polaroids capturing moments of her life. Each picture told a story—some filled with laughter, others with tears, but all of them a part of her journey. She had fought so hard to get to this point, to find some semblance of peace and stability. But now, everything felt uncertain again.

Margarita reached for her phone, the urge to call someone—anyone—overwhelming. But she stopped herself, fingers hovering over the screen. Who could she talk to about this? Who would understand the tangled mess of emotions swirling inside her?

She stood up, pacing the room as she tried to sort through her thoughts. She had wanted to be here, to be close to her friends, to Rafe. She had thought that being back would help her feel grounded, give her a sense of purpose again. But maybe she had been wrong. Maybe she wasn't as ready as she thought she was.

The doubts crept in, insidious and relentless. Was she strong enough to handle this? To deal with Rafe's struggles, with her own? It had felt like progress, coming back to the Outer Banks, facing her past head-on. But now, standing in her room alone, the uncertainty was suffocating.

She glanced at the balcony door, the place where she had spent so many hours thinking, reflecting, trying to find clarity. The waves crashed softly in the distance, their rhythmic lull a stark contrast to the chaos inside her mind.

Taking a deep breath, Margarita walked over to the balcony and stepped outside. The cool night air washed over her, and she closed her eyes, trying to ground herself in the present moment. She had come back because she believed it was the right thing to do. She had felt like she owed it to herself, to her friends, to Rafe. But what if she had been wrong?

She leaned against the railing, staring out at the dark expanse of the ocean. Her mind replayed the look on Rafe's face before he left—the mixture of fear, anger, and guilt that had flickered in his eyes. She wanted to help him, to be there for him the way he had been for her, but it felt like they were both caught in a vicious cycle, unable to break free.

And then there was her own struggle, the nagging voice in her head that told her she wasn't enough, that she was failing, that maybe she had made a mistake by coming back. She had worked so hard to build herself up, to find her footing again. But now, it felt like she was slipping, the ground beneath her crumbling away.

Margarita swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. She had come back because she believed in second chances, in redemption, in healing. But now, she wasn't sure if any of that was possible.

She took a deep, shuddering breath and wiped away a stray tear. She wasn't going to give up. Not on herself, and not on Rafe. She had made it this far, and she wasn't going to let doubt and fear win.