Rafe Cameron Imagines

Enough For Me Pt 1🤍

TW: THE READER HAS TROUBLE EATING IF YOU GUYS HAVE ANY TROUBLE WITH THIS I PROMISE YOURE BEAUTIFUL THW WAY YOU ARE!!!!

The sun is relentless, beating down on the golden sand of Figure Eight's private beach, where you, Rafe, and the rest of the group are gathered for a triple date. The waves crash in the distance, the scent of salt thick in the air, the occasional breeze making the heat a little more bearable.

You should be enjoying yourself.

But you're not.

You sit cross-legged on a towel between Rafe and Sarah, pretending to listen as Kelce and Topper argue over some dumb inside joke. Kie chimes in now and then, laughing as she leans into her boyfriend. Sarah, effortlessly cool and always in the center of the conversation, flips through her phone, only half paying attention.

Meanwhile, you feel like a ghost.

You haven't eaten much today. You haven't really been eating at all.

Your stomach is empty, but the thought of food makes your skin crawl. It's not just about the food—it's about the way people watch you, the way you imagine them analyzing every bite, every movement. You feel self-conscious, like no matter what you do, it'll be wrong.

And then there's Rafe.

Your boyfriend, who notices everything.

And right now? He's noticing.

His arm is draped over your shoulder, his thumb absently tracing slow circles into your skin. His sunglasses are low on his nose, his sharp blue eyes flicking between you and the untouched food sitting in front of you.

He doesn't say anything.

Not yet.

But you know it's coming.

"Babe," his voice is soft, just for you. His fingers tighten on your shoulder, drawing you closer. "You gonna eat or just look at it all day?"

You force a laugh, waving him off. "I'm not really hungry."

His jaw clenches. You see it in the way his muscles tighten, the way his fingers stop moving against your skin for just a second too long.

Rafe Cameron does not let things go.

"You haven't eaten all day," he murmurs, lower this time, just beneath the chaotic energy of the group's conversation.

You tense. He's right, but you don't want to talk about it.

"I'm fine," you say quickly.

His fingers graze your knee, his touch grounding. "No, you're not."

"Rafe—"

"Hey, Cameron, you getting in or what?" Topper interrupts, standing and shaking the sand off his swim trunks.

Rafe doesn't move.

Kelce smirks, throwing an arm around Kie. "Nah, he's too busy babying his girl."

Sarah snorts. "He always does."

Rafe barely reacts. He just keeps looking at you, his eyes scanning your face like he's trying to piece something together. Like he's trying to figure out why the hell you won't just eat.

Your stomach twists. You need to get out of this.

"I'll get in," you say quickly, forcing a smile as you push to your feet. "C'mon, Rafe."

But he doesn't let you go so easily.

As the others rush toward the water, he pulls you back, his grip firm but gentle. His lips brush your ear, his voice quiet, controlled.

"After this, we're talking."

You swallow hard, your heart hammering. "Rafe, there's nothing to—"

"There is." His fingers slip down your wrist, intertwining with yours. His voice is lower now, edged with something deeper. "I know you, baby. I know when something's wrong. And I need you to stop pretending."

You exhale sharply, looking away. You don't want to do this. Not here, not now.

So you do the only thing you can.

You pull him into the water with you.

The second the cold waves crash against you, the tension lifts—just slightly. Rafe still doesn't let go of you, but he eases up, letting you get lost in the moment as the others splash around, laughing, shoving each other under.

For a little while, it's easy to pretend.

Easy to act like everything's fine.

But Rafe isn't stupid.

And you know this conversation isn't over.