'she's kook fuckin' royalty, man.'
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a lot of things go unnoticed in the outer banks. things like missing millions in gold, underage drinking, and the bruises that litter the skin of the kook princess.
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( old times sake )
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LUCY WAS ALONE.
Rafe was entertaining Kook girls who seemed to be stuck to his skin by the very fabric of their clothing, hanging off his every word, red cups clutched tight in their hands and eyes glazed over. Every so often, his eyes would meet hers, and she knew him well enough to know that look. It was a silent taunt. He was unrivalled. Unmatched. He could have anyone he wanted, and he loved to prove it.
Part of her could not bear it. Part of her, as fucked up as it was, wanted him. Part of her had always wanted him, since they had been young. Had wanted his eyes only on her, had wanted his body against hers, his hands on her skin, his mouth on her mouth. Had always wanted the harsh taste of alcohol on his tongue as he kissed her, because at least then he was kissing her.
Part of her had always wanted him to want her, but the rest of her knew that he never would.
It was his eyes that told her that dream was impossible. Those blue eyes undressed other girls with no more than a look up and down, long lashes revealing a look which dragged painstakingly slowly along their bodies. He had never looked at her like that. His fingers trailed their waists, feather-light touches that Lucy had never known. Still, she could not tear her eyes away. She followed his hands with her eyes, her skin prickling as she imagined those same hands trailing over her body as they had countless times before. Lucy's skin was aflame, alight, burning as she watched on. The touch may as well have been real.
He haunted her, and the worst part of it all was that she let him do it.
He was in the shadows that fell when her eyelids shut, he was in the silence when she lay awake at night, and even here she could feel the touch of his hands on other girls' skin as plainly as if it were her own.
She was pitiful, really. With some great exertion of willpower, she pulled her gaze away, looking down to her hands. Her fingernails dug into the white skin of her palms, leaving behind tiny red crescents as she unclenched her grip. No one except Rafe knew what his actions did to her, and Lucy had a sick, sneaking suspicion that he enjoyed it.
A party was not the time to be thinking those things.
So, Lucy looked away, resolutely pulling herself back into reality. A small fire was crackling before her, embers lifting up in the wind and floating towards the sky like tiny blazing stars. All around her conversations echoed, snatches of sentences and fragments of words reaching her ears every now and then.
A Kook sitting alone was quite the ironic sight. Truly an oxymoron.
Lucy let her eyes wander, grazing over the partygoers with barely a second thought. At least, that was until she met a pair of eyes staring right back at her. A pair of eyes that didn't belong to Rafe.
