𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐓 ― rafe cameron

είκοσιεφτά ; 27

song of the chapter:
WHEN THE SUN HITS ; slowdive

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. Margarita stirred first, her eyes fluttering open to the unfamiliar warmth pressed against her. It took her a moment to remember the events of the previous night—the party, the basement, Rafe. Slowly, her mind pieced it together as the remnants of sleep faded.

She blinked against the light, glancing down to see Rafe lying beside her, his arm still wrapped protectively around her waist. His face was peaceful, the usual tension he carried gone as he slept soundly. Her heart squeezed with a mixture of gratitude and something she couldn't quite name. She shifted slightly, careful not to wake him, her body sore and head pounding from the night before.

For a moment, she just watched him, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his messy hair fell across his forehead. He had stayed, even after everything. That thought alone made her chest feel tight, the vulnerability of it all creeping back in.

She turned her gaze away, staring up at the ceiling, the weight of her emotions slowly settling in. She didn't know what to say or how to feel—part of her wanted to run, to avoid the conversation that was sure to come. But the other part, the part that had asked him to stay, just wanted to linger in this rare moment of peace.

Carefully, Margarita slid out from under his arm, trying not to disturb him as she moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Her bare feet touched the cool floor, and she rubbed her face, feeling the remnants of last night's exhaustion still clinging to her. The makeup was gone, wiped away by his gentle hands, but the emotions were still raw, still close to the surface.

She let out a soft sigh, glancing back at Rafe, unsure of what would happen next, but knowing she couldn't avoid it forever.

Margarita stood at the window, the soft hues of dawn just beginning to paint the sky. She wrapped her arms around herself, watching as the deep pinks and yellows melted into each other, slowly giving way to a brighter blue. The clouds drifted lazily across the expanse, and for what felt like hours, she let herself get lost in the quiet transformation of the morning.

It was peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos of the night before. The world outside moved at its own pace, indifferent to the turmoil that had gripped her hours ago. She watched the colors shift and change, her thoughts slowly unwinding as the sky opened up into a clear, bright blue, the sunrise now fully realized.

A soft knock of movement behind her broke the stillness, and she glanced over her shoulder to see Rafe stirring on the bed, his eyes just beginning to blink open. Her heart skipped slightly, but she turned back to the window, not ready yet to face him, not ready for the inevitable conversation that was waiting.

For now, she let herself bask in the warmth of the sunlight and the brief, fragile sense of peace it brought her.

Rafe groaned softly as he shifted on the bed, his hand instinctively reaching out to the spot where Margarita had been just moments before. The coolness of the sheets registered in his half-asleep mind, and his brow furrowed. Slowly, he opened his eyes, squinting against the soft morning light that filled the room. His head throbbed, remnants of the alcohol and the events from the night before still clinging to him like a heavy fog.

He blinked, his vision focusing, and saw her standing by the window, bathed in the golden hues of the sunrise. For a moment, he simply watched her, the way the light framed her silhouette, casting soft shadows along her bare shoulders. She looked so calm, so far removed from the chaos they had left behind, but he knew her well enough to recognize the storm that likely brewed beneath her quiet exterior.