Rafe Cameron Imagines

Stubborn Love🤍

It was one of those nights where the tension in the air felt palpable. Rafe had been in a mood since you arrived at Tannyhill, pacing back and forth in his room like a storm waiting to break. You sat cross-legged on his bed, watching him silently, knowing better than to push him when he was like this.

"Rafe," you said softly after a few minutes of silence, "are you going to tell me what's wrong, or do I have to guess?"

He stopped pacing and turned to you, his jaw tight. "It's nothing. I'm fine."

You rolled your eyes. "Right. Because 'fine' looks exactly like you wearing a hole into your carpet."

"Can you just drop it, love?" he snapped, running a hand through his hair. "I don't want to talk about it."

Normally, you'd back off and give him space, but tonight? Tonight you weren't having it. You stood up, crossing the room to stand in front of him. "No, I'm not dropping it. You've been shutting me out all day, Rafe. I'm your girlfriend, remember? The one person you're supposed to talk to?"

His eyes softened for a split second before the walls went back up. "I don't need to drag you into my shit," he muttered, turning away.

You reached out, grabbing his arm. "You're not dragging me into anything. I want to be here for you, Rafe. Whatever it is, we'll deal with it together. But you've got to let me in."

He sighed, his shoulders slumping. When he turned back to you, the frustration in his eyes had given way to something deeper—something vulnerable. "It's my dad," he admitted, his voice low. "He's been on my ass again, talking about how I'm screwing everything up. Saying I'm not doing enough for the family."

Your heart ached at the pain in his voice. Rafe's relationship with Ward was complicated at best, and you knew how much his father's approval—or lack thereof—affected him. "Rafe," you said gently, stepping closer. "You don't have to prove anything to him. You're enough, just the way you are."

He shook his head, letting out a bitter laugh. "Tell that to him. Nothing I do is ever enough."

You placed your hands on his chest, forcing him to look at you. "It doesn't matter what he thinks. What matters is what you think. You're trying, and that's all that matters. And for the record? You're more than enough for me."

His arms came around you almost instinctively, pulling you close. "You don't know what you're signing up for, love," he murmured against your hair.

You smiled, leaning into him. "Oh, I think I do. A stubborn boyfriend who thinks he has to carry the world on his shoulders. Good thing I'm just as stubborn, huh?"

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your cheek. "You're impossible."

"And you love me for it," you teased, looking up at him.

"Yeah," he admitted, his lips curving into a small smile. "I do."

"Then let me help you," you said, your voice serious again. "You don't have to do this alone, Rafe. I'm here, whether you like it or not."

He didn't respond right away, but the way his arms tightened around you told you everything you needed to know. "I don't deserve you," he whispered after a moment.

"Too bad," you replied, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. "You're stuck with me."

For the first time all day, Rafe seemed to relax. His forehead rested against yours, his hands settling on your waist. "Thank you," he murmured.

"Always," you said softly.

And just like that, the storm in him began to settle, his walls crumbling in the safety of your arms.