Rafe Cameron Imagines

We Found Love in a Hopeless Place🤍

The first time you met Rafe Cameron, he was bloodied and buzzed, fists clenched outside the Wreck like he was daring someone to give him one more reason to snap.

You didn't speak. You just looked at him—really looked—and said softly, "You okay?"

He didn't answer you. Didn't look at you. Just lit a cigarette with shaking hands and said, "Why the fuck would I be?"

That should've been your first clue to walk away. But it wasn't.

Instead, you sat on the curb a few feet away and said, "You don't have to talk. I'll just sit here."

And Rafe didn't move. He didn't thank you. But he didn't leave, either.

That was the beginning.

—

It wasn't a normal relationship. Not even close. Rafe was all sharp edges and storm clouds, and you were the only person stupid—or stubborn—enough to stay standing in the rain.

He pushed. You pulled. He screamed. You waited.

Some nights, he'd come to your window at two in the morning, smelling like whiskey and regret, eyes tired, voice gravelly. "Can I just... be here tonight?"

And you'd nod. Pull back the blankets. Let him curl into your warmth like he wasn't made of fire and fury.

"Why do you let me?" he'd whisper into your collarbone.

"Because I know the version of you that no one else does."

And he'd go quiet. Every time.

—

Rafe didn't say "I love you." Not at first. Not for a long time.

He said things like:

"Don't answer your phone when I'm here."

Or, "If I see that guy talk to you again, I swear to God—"

Or, "I don't like anyone but you."

And maybe that wasn't healthy. Maybe it was messy and broken and full of red flags.

But it was also real.

Because when you cried, Rafe stopped everything. When you were silent, he heard you anyway. And when you said, "I feel like I'm not enough," he pulled you close, held your face in his rough hands, and said, "You're the only thing that keeps me from losing it completely."

—

There were fights. Big ones. The kind that broke plates and shattered trust.

"You're never going to get better," you'd shout, tears slipping down your cheeks. "You don't want to!"

And Rafe would stand there, wrecked and wild-eyed. "You think I like being like this? You think I want to be fucked up?"

"No," you'd whisper. "I think you're scared of not being fucked up. Because then you'd have to live."

He didn't speak to you for two days after that. Not because he didn't care.

But because you were right.

—

Then came the worst night.

You found him at Tannyhill, slumped against the kitchen cabinets, pupils blown wide, hand trembling as he tried to dial someone—anyone. His phone was upside down.

You didn't scream.

You just knelt down in front of him, gently took the phone out of his hand, and whispered, "You're not alone. I've got you."

Rafe blinked, confused and heavy, and then broke completely.

Not with words.

With sobs. With shattered gasps. With his forehead pressed to your chest as he clung to you like you were the only solid thing left in the world.

And maybe you were.

—

The recovery wasn't linear. You didn't fix him. He had to do that himself.

But you stayed. Through the meetings. The withdrawal. The shaking hands and sleepless nights.

You stayed through the apologies. The relapses. The brutal honesty.

You stayed, not because you were trying to save him, but because he finally let himself be loved by you.

And then one night, months later, clean and sober and watching the sunset from the roof of his truck, he looked at you like you were everything.

Like you were peace.

"Remember that night outside the Wreck?" he asked.

You nodded. "Yeah."

"I was gonna fight that guy. Break his nose. Maybe get arrested again."

"And instead?"

"Instead you sat next to me," he said, smiling softly. "And didn't ask me to be anything but what I was."

You leaned your head on his shoulder.

"I didn't think love was for people like me," Rafe said quietly. "But somehow, you made me believe I could have it."

You looked up at him, tears stinging your eyes.

"You do have it," you whispered. "Every damn day."

He kissed your forehead like a promise.

And that was when you both realized—

You found love in a hopeless place.