Drew Starkey Imagines

No Good Without You

You found him in the back of the house again — that run-down beach shack he always disappeared to when the world felt too loud. The door was cracked open, the air inside thick with humidity and the taste of salt and something heavier: dread.

He didn't look up when you stepped in.

He sat on the floor, back against the wall, hoodie half-off his shoulder, staring at nothing. Just breathing. Just shaking.

"Rafe?" you whispered.

He flinched like he didn't expect you to find him this time. Like a ghost caught mid-fall.

"I'm fine," he mumbled, but even he didn't sound convinced.

You crossed the room slowly, quietly. Not like you were afraid of him — but like you were afraid for him. When you reached him, you didn't say anything. You just sat beside him. Close, but not touching. Yet.

Minutes passed like that. Silent. Heavy. Honest.

And then, finally—

"I'm scared," he said.

You turned your head. His eyes were distant. Lost. Raw in a way he rarely allowed himself to be.

"Of what?"

"Myself."

His voice cracked, and your heart split with it.

"I'm scared of my own image. Scared of my own immaturity. Scared of how far I can fall without meaning to. Scared I'll die before I ever figure out who the hell I am."

You reached for his hand — trembling, knuckles white. He didn't pull away, but he didn't squeeze back.

"Fear might be the death of me," he whispered. "Fear leads to anxiety. And I— I don't even know what's inside of me anymore."

You leaned your head against his shoulder. His breath hitched.

"You don't have to know yet," you said. "You just have to let me stay long enough to help you figure it out."

"Why?" His voice was bitter. Barely a breath. "Why would you?"

You finally turned to face him fully, hand now pressed against his jaw, forcing him to see you. Really see you.

"Because I see something good in you, Rafe. Even when you don't. Especially when you don't."

His eyes welled up, and it was the first time he didn't hide it. No jokes. No rage. Just pain.

"Don't forget about me," he said. "Please. Even if I mess up. Even if I get too far gone. Don't let me disappear."

You wrapped your arms around him then, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let you. Fully. Head in your neck, shaking, breathless. Letting the weight go just for a second.

"You're not too far gone," you whispered into his hair. "You're right here. And I've got you."

At that moment he truly felt loved. The way he knew he never be alone as long as he had you. For the first time he felt peace.