Drew Starkey Imagines

Night Train

The warm glow of the streetlamp lit up the gravel in front of your driveway, catching the chrome on the front of Rafe's truck. It purred quietly at the curb, engine still running, headlights on low. You stepped outside, your hoodie slung loosely over your shoulders, sneakers crunching against the gravel as you made your way toward him.

The second you opened the passenger door, the familiar scent of cologne, pine air freshener, and something purely him hit you like a wave. Rafe leaned over from the driver's seat, one hand gripping the wheel, the other pushing the gearshift into park.

"There she is," he said with that crooked grin, eyes flicking over you in a way that made your heart skip a beat. "Took you long enough."

You rolled your eyes playfully and slid in. "Relax, Cameron. It's only eight."

"Yeah," he said, shifting the truck back into drive. "But that train's not gonna wait forever."

You raised an eyebrow. "What train?"

He glanced sideways at you, his smirk deepening. "You'll see."

⸻

The drive through the Outer Banks was quiet, peaceful. Every once in a while Rafe reached over to rest his hand on your thigh, thumb brushing gently back and forth as the truck ate up the miles. The windows were down, wind blowing your hair back, the salty breeze of the ocean blending with the scents of summer grass and honeysuckle.

In the bed of the truck were pillows, fleece blankets, a cooler clanking with glass bottles, and a zip-up bag packed with sandwiches he'd picked up earlier. You knew Rafe well enough by now to know when he was planning something. But tonight felt... different.

He didn't say much. Just kept driving out past town, past the main roads, where the lights faded into shadows and the only glow came from the stars above and the soft amber of his dashboard.

Eventually, he turned off onto an unmarked dirt path, the kind you'd never even notice if you weren't looking for it. Trees arched overhead, the branches forming a canopy that swallowed the truck whole.

"Where are we?" you asked, voice hushed like the woods around you demanded quiet.

"Somewhere nobody else knows about," he said, flashing you a side smile. "My spot. Now yours too."

⸻

The truck came to a stop near a break in the trees, just before the woods opened into a wide field that sloped down toward a set of train tracks. The metal rails shimmered in the distance, barely catching the moonlight.

Rafe didn't waste time. He killed the engine, jumped out, and jogged around to your side, opening the door for you.

"Hurry up, girl," he said, grabbing your hand and pulling you into a run. "I hear it coming."

You laughed as he tugged you across the grass, the two of you racing down the slope like kids sneaking out past curfew. The world felt small in that moment—just you, Rafe, and the slow, deep rumble starting to build in the distance.

By the time you made it to the crest of the hill that overlooked the tracks, the train had crept into view, a line of gleaming steel snaking its way through the OBX. The hum of its wheels over the tracks was strangely soothing—slow, rhythmic, like the heartbeat of the night.

Rafe dropped to the grass, yanking you down with him. You fell in a heap of limbs and laughter, landing on one of the blankets he'd managed to stuff under his arm before you both took off.

The night stretched out around you, quiet and warm and endless. Fireflies flickered around the edge of the trees, and the only sounds were the crickets, the low moan of the freight train, and your breath mingling with his as he leaned in closer.

"You know," he said, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek, "you drive me crazy."

You blinked up at him. "What?"

"I mean it," he whispered, eyes locked on yours. "You're so damn pretty it messes with my head. I try to play it cool, but..." He trailed off, letting the words hang there. "Every time I look at you, I swear I lose my mind a little."

You felt your breath catch as he leaned in, lips brushing yours. It was slow—like he was savoring the moment. You kissed him back, hands curling into the fabric of his t-shirt, grounding yourself in him, in this.

The train rolled past just a few feet away, its rhythm like a lullaby, its whistle a haunting melody in the background.

You spent the night wrapped in blankets, lying side by side in the grass. You shared sandwiches and sipped from cold glass bottles, laughing when Rafe told you stories from his younger, wilder days. The stars stretched endlessly above you, the Milky Way smeared across the sky like a painting.

At one point, you curled into his chest, your head resting over his heart. He wrapped an arm around you, fingers tracing idle patterns along your back.

"This..." you murmured, "feels like something out of a dream."

Rafe tilted his head down to look at you. "Nah. Dreams aren't this real."

You kissed again—slower this time, deeper. Like the world could fall apart around you and neither of you would notice. The night was thick with summer heat, heavy with the scent of grass and engine grease and the crisp air left behind by the passing train.

The two of you didn't talk much after that. You didn't need to. Your bodies pressed together, tangled in pillows and blankets, the warmth of his chest grounding you. There was a quiet reverence to it all—as if the universe had paused, just for a little while, to give you this moment.

And when the train disappeared into the horizon, swallowed by the trees and distance, you stayed there.

Still.

Breathing each other in.

Alive in the silence that came after.

⸻

Because when Rafe Cameron said he was taking you somewhere special, he meant it.
And on that warm OBX night, with the night train rolling by slow and steady, he gave you a memory that would last a lifetime.