Rafe Cameron Imagines

Wildfire🤍

The Cameron estate loomed in the darkness like a fortress. The windows cast faint, warm light onto the manicured lawn, but inside, the atmosphere was far from warm. You could feel the tension the moment you stepped inside that evening, and it only grew heavier as the hours ticked by.

You had arrived earlier, planning to surprise Rafe after he mentioned he'd had a rough day. But now it was nearly ten, and he still wasn't home. He hadn't answered your texts, which wasn't unusual, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

You sat curled on the couch in the massive living room, pretending to read a book, though your mind was elsewhere. It was hard not to imagine the worst when it came to Rafe. You knew the world he lived in—the high-stakes dealings, the volatile temper, the constant pressure from his father. You also knew how he used you as his safe haven, the one place where he could let down his guard.

When the front door finally opened, you looked up sharply. Rafe stepped inside, his movements tense, his jaw clenched tight. He tossed his car keys onto the table by the door, the sound loud in the quiet room.

"Rafe?" you called softly, setting the book aside and standing.

He paused mid-step, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. For a moment, you saw something raw and vulnerable in them, but then he turned away, running a hand through his hair.

"Hey," he muttered, his voice low and gruff.

You crossed the room to him, reaching out to touch his arm. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, too quickly. "Just... a long day."

"Don't lie to me," you said, your voice gentle but firm. "I know when something's bothering you."

He sighed heavily, finally looking at you. "It's my dad," he admitted. "He's been riding me all day. Acting like I can't do anything right. Like I'll never be enough for him."

Your heart ached at the bitterness in his tone. You knew how much Rafe craved his father's approval, even though Ward's love was conditional at best.

"You don't need his approval, Rafe," you said, stepping closer to him. "You're more than enough, just as you are."

He stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours. Then, without warning, he pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly it was almost suffocating. But you didn't complain. You knew he needed this.

"Sometimes, it feels like you're the only one who gets me," he murmured into your hair.

"I'll always get you," you promised, running your hands up and down his back.

For a while, you just stood there, holding each other. But then his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he stiffened.

"What is it?" you asked as he pulled away.

"Nothing," he muttered, glancing at the screen before shoving the phone back into his pocket.

"Don't shut me out, Rafe," you said, crossing your arms. "What's going on?"

"It's just some business stuff," he said, avoiding your gaze.

You frowned. "Business" was usually code for something shady, something tied to Ward or the increasingly dangerous deals Rafe had been getting involved in.

"You don't have to do this," you said softly. "Whatever it is, we can figure it out together. You don't have to carry this alone."

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "You don't understand. This is who I am. This is what I do."

"No," you said firmly. "It's what you think you have to do. But you're better than this, Rafe. I know you are."

He looked at you, his jaw tightening. For a moment, it seemed like he might argue, but then his shoulders slumped, and he let out a defeated sigh.

"Sometimes, it feels like I'm trapped," he admitted. "Like no matter what I do, I'll never get out."

"You're not trapped," you said, taking his hands in yours. "You have a choice. And I'll be here to help you every step of the way."

He stared at you, his blue eyes filled with a mix of hope and fear. "You really believe that?"

"I do," you said, squeezing his hands. "But you have to believe it too."

Before he could respond, there was a loud knock at the door. Rafe's entire demeanor changed in an instant, his body tensing like a coiled spring.

"Stay here," he said sharply, letting go of your hands and striding toward the door.

"Rafe—"

"Stay here," he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You watched anxiously as he opened the door, revealing a man you didn't recognize. The two of them spoke in hushed tones, but you could tell from Rafe's body language that the conversation wasn't friendly.

After a few minutes, the man left, and Rafe closed the door, his jaw clenched so tightly you thought it might crack.

"Who was that?" you asked as he walked back into the room.

"No one," he said, but his voice was strained.

"Rafe, don't do this," you said, stepping in front of him. "Don't shut me out. I can't help you if you won't let me in."

He looked at you, his eyes filled with conflict. "It's not your problem," he said quietly. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'm already in this with you, Rafe," you said. "Whether you like it or not. So stop trying to protect me by pushing me away."

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know what to do anymore," he admitted.

"You don't have to figure it out alone," you said, stepping closer to him. "We'll figure it out together. But you have to trust me."

After a long moment, he nodded, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "Okay," he said softly. "I'll try."

You reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek. "That's all I need."

He leaned down to kiss you, his lips soft but insistent. It was a kiss that spoke of desperation and hope, of promises made and battles yet to be fought.

As you held him, you knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy. But for Rafe, you were willing to face whatever came your way.