Sunset games. Rafe Cameron

seventeen

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
[17]
"apocalypse" cigarettes after sex

(OLIVIAS POV)

I blinked, groggy, and sat up, squinting into the darkness. My heart skipped when I saw Rafe's face just beyond the glass. I got up, my pulse racing, and opened the window.

He climbed inside, and the second he was fully in my room, I felt the air change. Rafe didn't look like himself-not even close. His face was pale, his eyes heavy and hollow, lacking that sharp glint they always had, the one that made him look like he had a million secrets he couldn't wait to share. Now, he just looked... tired. Lifeless. And I hated seeing him like this.

"Rafe, what happened to you?" My voice barely held steady. I could hear it breaking, fear creeping in, and I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep it together. There was a cut along his eyebrow, dried blood crusted at the edges, and bruises lined his knuckles. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

He wouldn't meet my eyes. Instead, he stood there, just staring down at his hands, fists clenched as if he could somehow hold everything inside. "It's... it's nothing, Vi." His voice cracked, and he shook his head, trying to brush it off. But as soon as he said the words, I saw his shoulders begin to shake.

I'd never seen Rafe cry. Not once. But now, in my dark room, he looked like he was fighting a battle just to hold himself together, and he was losing. I wanted to reach out, to do something, but I didn't even know what he needed.

"Rafe, please," I whispered, feeling a tightness in my chest, an ache that hurt just looking at him like this. I didn't know why he was here or what had happened to him, but I knew I couldn't stand seeing him like this. I wanted to help, to fix whatever had made him fall apart. "Tell me what's going on."

He took a shaky breath, finally looking at me, and his eyes were red-rimmed, glassy. "I didn't pay my dealer. And now I'm... I'm so screwed, Olivia. I don't have the money, and they're coming after me, and I.. I don't know what to do." His voice was barely a whisper now, and it cracked, trailing off into a raw, defeated silence. He was crumbling, right there in front of me, and I couldn't let him face it alone.

I didn't think. I just stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close.
And that was all it took. He shattered, burying his face in my shoulder, sobbing in a way that felt like he was holding onto me like his life depended on it. His hands gripped my back, his fingers pressing into me as though he was afraid l'd disappear. I felt his pain radiating off him, a raw, unfiltered wave of despair that left me aching for him.

"It's okay, Rafe," | murmured, though I didn't even know if it would be. All I knew was that, in that moment, I wanted to be his anchor, his shelter, even if only for a little while.

And as I held him, I knew I wasn't going to let go.

We stayed like that for what felt like forever-thirty minutes, maybe more, but I couldn't be sure. Rafe held onto me like I was his last solid thing in a world that had let him down, and I didn't want to let him go either. There was this strange safety between us, something I hadn't realized I needed. And it scared me. Being this close to him, feeling his heart pounding against mine, like we were holding each other together... it felt like crossing an invisible line I couldn't uncross.

After a while, his grip around me loosened a little, and I took a breath. "Come on," I whispered, gently pulling back but keeping my hands on his shoulders. I pointed toward the small cut on his eyebrow. "Let's go clean that up."

He nodded silently, following me into the bathroom. I flicked on the light, and it cast a soft glow across his tired face. Rafe leaned against the sink as I opened the cabinet, taking out some antiseptic and cotton pads. He didn't say anything, just watched me with this quiet intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.

I dabbed the cotton against his cut, and he winced slightly. My fingers brushed his skin, and I could feel his warmth even through my own shaking hands. As i cleaned the wound, I tried to focus on the task, but his eyes. Those deep blue eyes kept drawing me in. They were softer now, vulnerable in a way that made me feel like he was letting me see something no one else had ever seen. I couldn't look away. It was like he was looking at me with this silent plea, a longing I couldn't name but felt in every part of me.

The room fell silent, and it was just us, so close I could feel his breath, slow and steady. And then, just like that, my mind flashed to the other day in the kitchen-the way he had looked at me, like I was the only person in the world. Now, it felt like we were right back there, that same feeling filling the space between us, heavy and electric. I barely had time to think before he leaned closer, and suddenly, my heart was racing all over again.

Our lips met softly at first, like we were both testing the ground, not wanting to break the fragile moment. But then something shifted. The kiss deepened, a slow, undeniable pull that felt like we were both finally giving in to something we'd been holding back. His hand slipped up to my face, fingers tracing my jaw gently, holding me as though he was afraid l'd disappear. My arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer, and in that moment, I didn't care about anything else. It was just us, drowning in each other.

I don't know how to describe it, but kissing him felt... right. Like all the fear and confusion l'd been feeling faded away, replaced by this intense, undeniable connection. I felt seen, known, and needed all at once. Each touch was a promise, each second stretching out like it could go on forever.

Rafe's hands moved to my back, pulling me even closer, and I could feel his heartbeat, matching mine, each beat as desperate as the last. I didn't know what this kiss meant or what would come next, but I knew, right then, that I didn't want to be anywhere else.