𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐓 ― rafe cameron

εξήνταδύο ; 62

song of the chapter:
FOR EMMA ; bon iver

Margarita turned her head slowly, her body still trembling as she faced Rafe. The soft light from the window illuminated her features, highlighting the shadows beneath her eyes. She looked fragile, as if a gentle breeze could blow her away. Rafe felt his heart ache at the sight of her, wishing he could take away her pain, even if just for a moment.

"Margarita," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper, but it felt loud in the silence that surrounded them.

Her gaze drifted to Sarah, who was still sitting at the edge of the bed. Margarita offered a small, hesitant smile—a flicker of warmth that briefly lit up her hollow expression—before her eyes fluttered shut again. It was as if she was retreating back into herself, back to a place where the world couldn't hurt her, where the reality of her situation faded away.

Rafe exchanged a worried glance with Sarah, who shifted closer, her expression filled with a mixture of relief and concern. "Margarita, can you hear us?" Sarah asked gently, her voice soothing as she tried to coax her back into the present.

Margarita didn't respond, her breathing shallow and unsteady. Rafe's heart sank as he watched her, feeling helpless. He wanted to reach out and hold her, to reassure her that everything would be okay, but he knew that right now, she was battling demons he couldn't see.

He leaned closer, his hand still holding hers, feeling the coldness of her skin beneath his fingertips. "You're safe," he murmured. "We're right here with you. You're not alone."

Slowly, Margarita opened her eyes again, this time focusing on Rafe. There was a flicker of recognition in her gaze, but it was quickly overshadowed by something darker—a depth of pain that he couldn't fully grasp. "Rafe?" she asked softly, as if she was unsure of where she was.

"I'm here," he replied, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. "You're safe, I promise."

She blinked a few times, trying to process his words, but the weariness in her expression spoke volumes. "I... I didn't think you'd come," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course, I came," Rafe said, squeezing her hand gently. "I'm not going anywhere. We're going to get through this together. Just take it one step at a time."

As she absorbed his words, he noticed a flicker of something in her eyes—perhaps hope, or maybe just a fleeting connection to the girl she used to be. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

"Shh, you don't need to apologize," he reassured her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "You don't have to do this alone."

Rafe glanced at Sarah, who was watching quietly, her eyes filled with empathy. She understood the weight of this moment—the delicate balance between hope and despair that hung in the air like a fragile thread.

"Margarita," Sarah said softly, her voice warm, "we're here for you, and we want to help. But you have to let us in."

Margarita's eyes flickered between them, uncertainty clouding her expression. "I don't know how," she admitted, her voice trembling.

Rafe felt a surge of determination. "You don't have to know how right now. Just trust that we're here to support you, no matter what. We'll figure it out together."

As Margarita's eyes fluttered shut once more, the world around her began to blur. The warm colors of her room faded into a dull haze, and the voices of Rafe and Sarah felt distant, like echoes reverberating in a vast emptiness. She could hear their calls, soft and persistent, but they felt like whispers from another life, a reality she was no longer part of.