Rafe Cameron Imagines

Birds of a Feather🤍

The sky above Figure Eight was painted in deep shades of orange and gold, the last remnants of the sunset fading into the night. The summer breeze carried the scent of salt from the ocean, wrapping around you as you sat side by side with Rafe on the hood of his truck, parked at the edge of the beach. It was quiet now, the waves gently rolling in the distance, the world around you slowing to a peaceful hum.

Rafe's hand rested on your thigh, his touch light but grounding. He wasn't saying much tonight, but then again, he didn't need to. You'd always understood him in ways no one else could. His silences spoke volumes, and you'd learned to read every look, every movement, every sigh. Tonight, though, the silence felt heavier, like there was something he was holding back.

You tilted your head to look at him, the fading sunlight catching on his sharp features. His jaw was clenched slightly, his gaze focused somewhere far off in the horizon, but the tension in his shoulders softened the moment he caught your eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked softly, your voice breaking the quiet.

Rafe turned to you, his expression unreadable for a moment before it shifted into something softer, something vulnerable. "You," he admitted, his lips curving into a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Me?" you teased, nudging him lightly with your shoulder, though the seriousness in his tone didn't go unnoticed.

He nodded, his fingers brushing against yours until your hands tangled together, his thumb tracing absent patterns over your skin. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight that settled in your chest.

"Good thing you'll never have to find out," you replied, your tone light but full of truth.

Rafe's grip on your hand tightened just slightly as he looked at you, his blue eyes searching yours like he was trying to commit this moment to memory. "You mean that?" he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant, like he was afraid of your answer.

You smiled softly, leaning closer until your forehead rested against his. "Of course I mean it," you whispered. "We're in this together, Rafe. Always."

A beat of silence passed, and then he exhaled, his breath brushing against your skin. "You say that like it's simple," he said, his voice tinged with something you couldn't quite place.

"It is," you replied firmly, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. "We're like birds of a feather, Rafe. We stick together, no matter what."

His lips quirked into a small, almost disbelieving smile, but there was something softer in his eyes now, something vulnerable. "You make it sound easy."

"Because it is," you said again, your voice steady. "You don't have to be perfect. You don't have to have it all figured out. You just have to be you, and I'll love you till the day I die. That's a promise."

Rafe swallowed hard, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. "You're too good for me," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

"Maybe," you teased, trying to lighten the mood, but your smile softened as you leaned into his touch. "But you're mine, Rafe Cameron. And I wouldn't want it any other way."

He let out a quiet laugh, one that was tinged with sadness but also laced with relief. "You really mean that?"

"Every word," you said, your voice unwavering.

Rafe leaned in then, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow and full of everything he couldn't put into words. It wasn't hurried, wasn't rushed—it was steady, deliberate, like he was trying to tell you everything he felt without speaking.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours again, his eyes closed as he exhaled softly. "I love you," he said, the words spilling out like they'd been waiting for the right moment. "I love you more than I've ever loved anything."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I love you too," you whispered.

The two of you sat there in the fading light, the sound of the waves crashing softly in the background. It felt like the rest of the world didn't exist, like it was just the two of you against everything.

And maybe it was.

The silence lingered for a while, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that felt safe, the kind that wrapped itself around you like a warm blanket. You leaned against Rafe's side, his arm draping around your shoulders as he pulled you closer.

"I don't deserve this," he murmured after a while, his voice breaking the stillness.

You tilted your head up to look at him, frowning slightly. "Don't deserve what?"

"This," he said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. "You. Us. The way you look at me like I'm worth something."

You sat up, turning to face him fully. "Rafe," you said firmly, placing your hands on either side of his face so he couldn't look away. "Don't ever say that again. You are worth everything to me. You hear me? Everything."

His eyes glistened in the dim light, and for a moment, you thought he might argue. But instead, he nodded, leaning into your touch. "I just don't want to mess this up," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You won't," you assured him, your thumbs brushing against his cheeks. "Because I'm not going anywhere. We're birds of a feather, remember? We stick together."

A small smile tugged at his lips, and he pulled you back into his arms, holding you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. "I don't know what I did to deserve you," he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"Maybe you were just lucky," you teased, your voice light and full of affection.

"Or maybe," he said, his voice taking on a playful edge, "you're the lucky one."

You laughed, the sound ringing out into the quiet night. "Maybe we're both lucky," you said, leaning back into him.

And as the stars began to appear in the night sky, you realized that no matter what came your way, you'd always have each other. Because birds of a feather always stick together.