𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐓 ― rafe cameron

είκοσιεννιά ; 29

song of the chapter:
UNWIND ; healy

Margarita lay quietly against Rafe, her body finally relaxed as she allowed herself to settle into the comfort of his arms. The steady thump of his heartbeat beneath her ear became a calming rhythm, grounding her in the present. The questions, the fears, the inevitable confrontation with Sarah—they all felt like distant storms gathering on the horizon, but for now, they had this brief moment of peace.

Rafe's hand moved slowly along her back, the soft strokes sending waves of warmth through her. His breath was calm now, his earlier exhaustion fading into a quiet contentment. He kissed the top of her head, lingering for a moment before resting his chin gently against her hair. Neither of them spoke, as if they knew that words might break the fragile stillness they had created.

Margarita's thoughts drifted, despite her efforts to stay in the moment. Everything between them had changed in just a few hours, and now, the weight of those changes pressed down on her. It wasn't just about what they'd done—it was about what it meant. The line they had crossed was one she could never have imagined crossing, and now, she wasn't sure how to navigate the fallout.

She glanced up at Rafe, his face softer now, his eyes closed as if savoring the quiet. There was a vulnerability in him she hadn't expected, a tenderness beneath the hardened exterior he usually carried. Seeing him like this, feeling the way he held her, made her realize just how deeply his feelings ran.

"Rafe," she whispered, her voice barely cutting through the quiet.

His eyes fluttered open, and he looked down at her, his expression warm but questioning. "What is it?" he asked softly.

She hesitated, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along his collarbone. "Do you think we're making a mistake?" Her voice was shaky, the weight of the question heavy between them. It wasn't just about Sarah or the complexities of their relationship—it was about everything. About whether they were too caught up in something they couldn't control, something that might unravel everything around them.

Rafe's brow furrowed slightly, and he shifted so that he could meet her gaze more fully. His hand moved from her back to cradle her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek. "I don't know," he admitted quietly, his voice steady but laced with the same uncertainty she felt. "Maybe. But I don't want to think of it that way."

He sighed, his hand slipping down to rest against her neck, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw. "I know this is complicated. I know it could hurt people we care about. But... it doesn't feel wrong. Not to me."

His words made her chest tighten, the sincerity in his eyes pulling at her heart. It didn't feel wrong to her either—not when they were together like this. But the fear of what could happen, the reality they would have to face, still hung over them like a shadow.

"I don't want to lose you," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly as she let the truth slip free.

Rafe's expression softened, his eyes darkening as he held her gaze. "You won't," he said firmly, his hand tightening slightly on her neck, a silent promise in his touch. "Whatever happens, we'll figure it out."

Margarita blinked back the sudden rush of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. The thought of losing him—of losing this—was unbearable. But there was no denying the fragility of their situation, and the reality that Sarah's friendship was just as important, just as precious.

"Sarah's going to hate us," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes falling to his chest as she spoke. "I don't know if I can handle that."

Rafe exhaled, his hand moving back to her waist as he pulled her closer, holding her against him. "I don't know what Sarah's going to say," he admitted. "But we'll deal with it when the time comes. I'm not going to let this tear us apart."

Margarita closed her eyes, burying her face in his chest as she let his words sink in. She wanted to believe him, wanted to hold on to the hope that they could navigate this without everything falling apart. But the uncertainty was overwhelming.

For now, though, she chose to believe in him, to trust the warmth of his arms around her and the quiet strength in his words. The storm was coming, but in this moment, they were safe, and that was all that mattered.

They lay together in silence, the weight of their situation still hanging over them, but for now, it didn't feel as heavy. In Rafe's arms, Margarita let herself breathe, knowing that whatever happened next, they would face it together.

Margarita shifted slightly in Rafe's arms, her mind still swirling with thoughts she couldn't ignore. As much as she wanted to stay in the warmth of this moment, the uncertainty gnawed at her. Her fingers traced idle patterns along his chest as she gathered the courage to ask the question she had been avoiding.

"What are we, Rafe?" she finally whispered, her voice soft but filled with the weight of everything that had happened between them. Her heart pounded as she said it, afraid of what his answer might be, afraid of the unknown.

Rafe's body tensed slightly beneath her, and for a moment, he was silent, his eyes searching hers. The question hung between them, heavy and loaded with implications they hadn't yet spoken aloud.

He sighed softly, his hand resting gently against her hip, grounding her as he thought about his answer. "I don't know," he admitted after a long pause, his voice quiet but honest. "I don't know what to call this, Margarita."

His eyes met hers again, and there was a flicker of vulnerability in them, something raw and unguarded. "I've never felt like this before," he continued, his thumb tracing small circles on her hip. "With anyone."

Margarita's breath hitched at his words, her heart squeezing painfully in her chest. His honesty was both comforting and terrifying. She wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that this meant something real, but the uncertainty still loomed large.

"Neither have I," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "But we can't just... pretend this is simple. It's not."

Rafe nodded, his expression serious. "I know it's not," he said softly. "But what I feel for you? It's real. And I don't want to lose that because it's complicated."

His words hung in the air, and Margarita could feel the weight of his sincerity, the depth of his feelings. She didn't doubt him, but the fear of what they were doing—the consequences it would bring—still gripped her.

"So what do we do?" she asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "What do we tell Sarah? What do we tell ourselves?"

Rafe sighed again, his hand sliding up to cup her face gently. "I don't have all the answers," he admitted, his thumb brushing against her cheek. "But I know I want to figure it out with you. We don't have to rush into anything or define it right now. We'll take it one step at a time."

Margarita searched his eyes, feeling the sincerity behind his words. She wanted to believe that they could navigate this without everything falling apart, but she wasn't naive. There would be consequences, and they both knew it.

"Are you sure?" she asked quietly, her heart racing. "Because if we do this... it's going to change everything."

Rafe leaned forward, pressing his forehead gently against hers. "I'm sure," he whispered, his voice filled with a quiet determination. "I'm not walking away from this, from you."

His words sent a wave of emotion crashing over her, and for a moment, she felt like she could breathe again. It wasn't a perfect answer, but it was enough. They would figure it out—together.

Margarita let out a soft breath, her hands resting against his chest as she nodded, the fear still lingering but tempered by the warmth of his resolve. "Okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "One step at a time."

Rafe smiled softly, his hand moving to the back of her neck as he pulled her closer. "One step at a time," he repeated, sealing the promise with a gentle kiss.

And for now, that was enough.

--- end of chapter