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The first woman Rafe had ever loved was his mother.

Vivenne Cameron was as radiant as she was quiet. She had an unshakable patience, a natural ease that softened the edges of life. She would bring a kind of calm wherever she went.

Rafe could still remember the way her hand rested on his shoulder, fingers caressing his cheek with a gentleness that seemed to hold all of him, even his most fractured pieces.

She was the only person who saw Rafe in full, who made him feel seen.

To Rafe, Vivienne was the only person who really understood him, her presence a rare, steady warmth that filled their sprawling home. She knew every quirk and shadow in him, as if she could see past the surface and into the boy he was trying so hard to become. The way she'd smooth back his hair with a laugh when he was being stubborn, or how she'd whisper to him about the adventures she saw in his future when he felt lost.

But that bond fractured when she died, an unexpected and unforgiving loss that struck when Rafe was only eight.

After she was gone, things unraveled fast. His father, Ward, seemed to fade too, his attention diverting to the family business with even more fervor, as if work could fill the void Vivienne had left. Rafe barely saw him around the house, and when he did, there was a new strain in Ward's expression, a sort of impatience as if he was bracing himself for whatever Rafe might need but couldn't ask for. Rafe could feel that even the moments they shared were like empty rooms—there, but hollow. Ward's absence wasn't just physical; it was a vacancy that settled in Rafe's life.

Rafe tried, at first, to reach out, to express himself in ways that he thought might pull his dad back, fighting, stealing, truanting, etc, but each attempt felt useless. The more he rebelled, the more neglectful Ward was toward Rafe.

Over time, Rafe started feeling his own edges soften and blur, like he was dissolving into the silence around him. It was as if he was losing himself, his sense of who he was, without even realising it.

In the absence of Vivienne's love, there was no one who truly saw him anymore, who cared to look close enough to notice the hollow growing within him. Those around him might have seen glimpses of it—the quiet moments, the flashes of anger—but they brushed it off as just Rafe being Rafe. To them, he was just another Cameron, bound to the family's wealth and reputation.

But deep down, Rafe knew he was slipping further from himself each day, carrying an ache for something he'd lost long ago, something he wasn't even sure he could name.

It was only a matter of time until he completely lost himself, and also losing the one person who wanted to understand him too.

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Rafe wandered around Imani's room, his fingers grazing the edge of her dresser, a faint smile on his face as he took in everything around him. The space felt like her—soft. The air was tinged with the faint scent of vanilla and lavender, both calming and alive. He ran his fingers over a stack of sketchbooks on her nightstand, their covers worn from use. Next to them lay a tangle of paintbrushes, their tips still speckled with dried colour. A few watercolour palettes were scattered nearby, their trays stained with vibrant hues of blue, amber, and emerald, hints of whatever her last project had been.

Her room was a mix of chaos and calm, a blend of personality that was purely Imani. Little trinkets from places she'd been were scattered across her shelves—a seashell she collected from last summer, a small carved elephant he remembered her saying was from her family trip to the Caribbean, and polaroids taped along the mirror. It was a sanctuary, alive and warm, so different from anything Rafe had known. Here, in her space, he felt an odd sense of peace, as if for a moment he could almost breathe normally again.

He hadn't told her he was coming. As soon as he'd landed back from the trip with his father, he knew he needed to see her. The distance had only amplified the need, and he wasn't sure why. But he'd found himself scaling her balcony, easing open the glass door, and slipping in silently.

The sound of the door opening startled him out of his thoughts. Imani stepped in, her face lighting up in surprise, her eyes widening as they landed on him. She jumped slightly, clutching her chest in mock horror. "Geez. Are you trying to be Edward Cullen now?" she teased, as she set her things down.

Rafe's brow furrowed immediately, his gaze sharp and possessive. "Who the fuck is Edward Cullen?" he demanded, the question almost a growl.

Her laughter broke the tension, warm and amused, the sound filling the room. "My boyfriend, obviously," she said, raising an eyebrow playfully as she crossed her arms, waiting for his reaction.

Rafe's jaw tightened as he crossed his arms, his gaze darkening. "Where does this Edward guy live?" he demanded.

"Forks, Washington," she replied, unable to suppress her smile as she saw his expression shift, his eyes narrowing with a mix of irritation and jealousy. She loved watching him get all riled up over something so silly.

"He's a dead man now."

"Oh my God, he's from Twilight," she laughed, watching as his confusion deepened.

Rafe looked at her, brow furrowed as if she'd spoken another language. "Twilight? What's that?" he asked, frustration simmering beneath his tone.

She gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest as if she'd been wounded. "You mean to tell me you've never read or watched Twilight?"

He rolled his eyes, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I don't read or watch much," he muttered, shrugging. "And sappy romances? Definitely not my thing."

"You're missing out though! There's more to it than just romance, you know. I guess we need to have a movie marathon so I can introduce you to the world of sappy romances."

Rafe's gaze softened, though he tried to hide it behind a nonchalant shrug. "Maybe," he said.

"Definitely."

There was a rare tenderness surfacing as he lifted a hand, beckoning her closer with a subtle curl of his finger. His voice was low, filled with an unmistakable need. "Come here," he murmured. "It's been a long week and I need to hold my girl."

Imani felt a flutter in her chest, her playful grin shifting into something warmer as she closed the distance between them. She let out a soft giggle as she wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself against his chest, feeling the tension in him start to melt. His arms slid around her, pulling her closer as if he couldn't get enough. He buried his face into her hair, breathing her in, letting the familiar warmth and scent of her calm him in a way he couldn't explain.

In that moment, everything else faded—the anger, the jealousy, the restless thoughts—and all that was left was her.

Imani tilted her head back, her nose brushing softly against his chin, as she whispered, "Hi."

Rafe's lips curved into a rare, genuine smile, his gaze locked on hers. "Hi, baby."

Without warning, he shifted, his hands firm at her waist as he guided her back toward the bed. In one smooth movement, he pulled her into his lap, making her let out a surprised squeal. She laughed, her hands instinctively reaching to steady herself, her heart racing at the suddenness of it all. His arms wrapped around her, strong and steady, holding her as if she were the only thing grounding him in this moment.

He was utterly obsessed with this girl.

Imani gently played with the necklace around his neck, her fingers tracing the cool metal as she leaned her head against his shoulder, her voice soft as she asked, "When did you get home?"

Rafe's lips brushed the top of her head as he replied, "Just an hour ago."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're not jetlagged?"

"I needed to see you first," he said, his voice thick with unspoken emotion. There was something in his words that made her heart flutter, the weight of his need for her sinking in, a truth that was clear even without him saying it directly.

She smiled softly, resting more comfortably against him, feeling the warmth of his body and the undeniable connection between them. "I'm glad you did," she whispered.

"What were you up to today?"

"This," Imani raised her hands in front of him, her freshly painted nails glinting in the soft light. "What do you think?" she teased, wiggling her fingers. "Do you like them?"

His gaze softened, and he took her hands in his, turning them so he could kiss each of her fingertips one by one. The warmth of his lips against her skin sent a ripple of heat through her, and he lingered there for a moment longer than necessary, savouring the softness of her hands. "I love them."

And he wondered. A future where he would do anything for her, where the cost of her happiness would be no object. He'd pay whatever price, sacrifice whatever it took, just to see her smile like that. The thought of her being his forever—her laughter, her joy, her warmth—made his heart tighten with a possessive longing, one he wasn't used to but couldn't deny.

He reached into his pocket, a small, velvet box slipping into his hand as he looked down at her with a smirk. "Got you a little souvenir."

Imani raised an eyebrow, shaking her head. "You didn't have to do that."

Rafe brushed her off with a slight wave of his hand. "I wanted to," he muttered, as if the idea of doing something nice for her was nothing worth making a fuss over.

Her curiosity piqued, she watched as he opened the box. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the glittering diamond pendant nestled inside. The stone sparkled in the light, flawless and stunning.

"Rafe..." she gasped, her eyes wide. "That's not even little or a souvenir. Is... Is that actually real?"

"Nah, it's plastic. I got it from the toy store," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Of course it's real, baby. What, you think I'd get you some fake crap?"

Imani rolled her eyes playfully, swatting his shoulder with a light smack. She took the box from his hand. She ran her fingers over the diamond pendant. Without another word, she stood up and made her way to the mirror.

Rafe leaned back against the bed, his eyes never leaving her, watching every step, every subtle shift of her body. He couldn't help but trace the curve of her figure accentuated by her dress as she stood in front of the mirror.

Imani glanced over her shoulder, meeting his eyes through the mirror, her expression soft, almost shy. "Can you... help me put it on?" she asked, her voice quiet but clear, tinged with a vulnerability that made Rafe's chest tighten.

There was a moment of stillness, where neither of them moved. Rafe stood, his gaze lingering on her, the warmth between them undeniable. With a small, almost tender smile, he crossed the room and stood behind her, his hands hovering for just a second before gently taking the chain from her fingers.

His fingers brushed her skin as he fastened the clasp, his breath catching slightly as he leaned in closer. The moment felt intimate, private, like they were the only two people in the world. As he finished, he let his fingers linger at her neck for a second longer than necessary, just enough to make the moment stretch.

"You're perfect," he whispered, his voice thick with admiration, before pulling back.

The necklace sparkled against her skin, and so did she—beautiful and untouchable, yet somehow his.

Imani looked at him through the mirror, her gaze locking with his. "Thank you," she said softly.

Rafe smirked, stepping closer, his gaze hungry and mischievous. "You can thank me in another way," he teased.

She arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smile. "Oh yeah?" she teased back, her voice soft and daring. "What do you want?"

Without answering her question, Rafe moved closer, his presence pressing in on her like a weight. One of his hands rested on her hip, pulling her just a fraction of an inch closer, while his other hand gently swept her hair to one side, exposing the delicate curve of her neck. He leaned in, his lips grazing the soft skin just below her ear, and whispered, "This."

The touch of his lips sent a shiver down her spine, and Imani let out a quiet gasp, her breath hitching in her throat. Her eyes fluttered shut, her body instinctively relaxing into him as she gave him more access, the heat between them intensifying. "Rafe..." she whispered his name, barely audible.

"You like it?" Rafe's lips brushed against the curve of her neck, his hand squeezing her hip.

Imani merely nodded, too caught up in the moment of desire.

"You want more?"

She only nodded to that.

The hand that had been resting on her hip lifted toward her throat as he cupped her jaw and gently squeezed her cheeks with his fingers, making her open her eyes and meeting his gaze through the mirror. "Use your words, baby."

Imani's heart quickened, biting her lower lip as she rubbed her back against his front, struggling to say the words, she let out a low moan when Rafe's hand trailed down to her neck and squeezed her throat lightly, head falling back against his chest.

"Come on, talk to me," his voice low, eyes darkening with lust and danger.

"I want more," she finally breathed, her voice a soft but desperate whisper, her fingers curling around his wrist as if she were trying to hold on to the moment.

"Define more," he teased her, his grip tightening as if he could pull more from her just by the force of his will.

"Rafe," she whined.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me," he tutted, his lip biting her ear lightly.

Instead of speaking, Imani's hand grabbed on to Rafe's free hand, her fingers intertwining with the back of his as she guided him down legs, letting his hand slip under her dress and feeling the warmth of his touch cup between her legs.

"You want this, pretty girl?" His voice tightened, smiling at her eagerness.

"Yes," she whispered. "Touch me."

Before they could drown in a sea of lust and passion, a voice suddenly rang out, distant but clear. "Imani!" The sound of the front door slamming downstairs followed, signaling the return of someone.

Imani froze, her eyes wide as panic flared. She shoved Rafe away from her with a sharp, urgent movement, quickly straightening herself up, trying to regain her composure. The reality of the moment hit her like a wave, and she glanced toward the door as Kiara's voice echoed up from below. "Imani, are you home?"

"Tell her to get lost," Rafe groaned, with an eye roll.

"I'm hungry! Can you make mac n cheese?" Kiara's footsteps could now be heard toward the stairs. "The boys are here too."

Imani turned to him, her eyes wide with panic. "You have to leave. Now," she hissed, her voice frantic as she quickly glanced toward the door, then back at him.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "We were just getting to the fun part," he teased.

Her face flushed with urgency, and she scolded him with a sharp look. "Rafe," she said firmly, pushing him toward the open balcony door. "You have to go."

"Imani?" Kiara's voice became more clear near her door.

"I'm going to take a shower first!" Imani replied back.

"Can I join?" Rafe whispered.

"No. Now go."

He chuckled under his breath, enjoying the game. He stepped toward the balcony, looking back over his shoulder with one last playful smirk. "Fine, fine. But we're gonna finish what we started," he said, his voice laced with mock frustration as he slipped out onto the balcony.

As Rafe settled down on the ground, he shot one last glance at Imani before getting on his motorcycle as he revved it up, kicking up the dust beneath him. He shot off down the street, his figure fading into the darkness.

A little distance away, parked in front of the Carrera's house, JJ, Pope, and John B sat quietly in the Twinkie. They'd been waiting, and talking. They were interrupted by the sound of a motorcycle engine as it roared past them.

Pope's eyes narrowed. "Wait... is that Rafe Cameron?" he asked, his voice tinged with surprise.

JJ, leaning back with his feet kicked up, squinted at the silhouette. "Yeah, I recognise that bald head."

John B looked between his friends, his brows furrowing. "What the hell is he doing here? He never comes around here."

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The boys crowded around the Carrera's kitchen, laughter filling the room as Imani stirred the pot of mac n cheese on the stove. She moved with ease, her energy light and comfortable as she teased JJ for nearly burning down John B's place last week, and laughed along with Pope as he defended himself over a silly argument about who was the best Avenger.

"I'm just saying i'm team Captain America for the accords but team Iron Man for what happened to his parents," Pope debated.

Kiara rolled her eyes. "Dude, you got to choose one team."

Imani interrupted them, setting the mac n cheese pan in the middle of the table. "Now, don't say I never do anything for you," she teased.

"You need to be my personal chef," JJ spoke around a mouthful. "Like I said once Poguelandia is built, i'll have a room made just for you."

"Sure, JJ," Imani laughed.

As they ate, the laughter winding down a little, Pope spoke up. "You know who we saw near your house tonight?"

Kiara looked up from her bowl, her interest piqued. "Who?" she asked, her eyes flicking from Pope to the others.

John B didn't miss a beat. "Rafe Cameron," he said, his tone flat, as if the name itself was enough to raise suspicion.

At the sound of Rafe's name, Kiara's gaze shifted immediately, her brow furrowing as she turned her head slightly, giving Imani a questioning side eye.

Imani froze for a split second, her stomach flipping as she felt all eyes subtly shift toward her. She quickly looked away, swallowing hard, focusing on her bowl as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Imani let out a forced laugh, shrugging dismissively. "Probably just passing through. I mean, you know Rafe—he's always somewhere he shouldn't be. Anyway," she continued, her voice a little too bright, "how's that mac 'n' cheese? Good, right?"

She watched as they slowly returned to their food, though Kiara's eyes lingered on her with suspicion, a look Imani tried to ignore. Inside, her heart raced, but she kept her expression neutral, hoping none of them noticed.

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The next evening, Imani found herself at a sprawling Kook event, one of those over the top gatherings her parents loved to attend. The lights sparkled from every corner of the venue, and the sound of clinking glasses and laughter filled the air. She trailed beside Alice and Violet, listening as Alice launched into another bout of gossip about the "who's who" of OuterBanks society.

"Oh my God, did you see Mrs Thornton's dress?" Alice whispered. "I'm convinced it's the same one she wore to the last gala, but with a different brooch. And she goes on about how others recycle their outfits when she's doing the same thing. Hypocrite."

Violet snickered, nudging Imani. "At least she didn't bring that horrendous feathered hat this time."

Imani laughed as she indulged in their gossip. She spotted Kiara making her way toward their little group, her expression already one of frustration. "Why do you look grumpy?"

"I can't believe our parents dragged us here again," Kiara huffed as she reached them, folding her arms and casting an annoyed glance around the room. "These parties are so pointless. It's just the same people parading around, acting like they're better than everyone else. Social class is so problematic."

Imani knew Kiara wasn't wrong; the Kook hierarchy was always on full display at these events, a constant reminder of the unspoken lines drawn between them and the rest of the island.

"Honestly, it's exhausting," Imani said, shrugging. "But you know how Mom and Dad are—they wouldn't miss this for the world."

As she finished her sentence, a prickling sensation ran down her spine. She looked up, and there, across the room, was Rafe. He was standing with his family, his expression unreadable as he listened to Ward speak to the crowd around him, an arm around Sarah while Rafe was a little further way from them, feeling distant.

Rafe's gaze met Imani's, that unreadable expression softening as soon as he laid his eyes on hers. He inclined his head subtly, gesturing toward a quieter corner.

Imani's pulse quickened, and she tore her gaze away, glancing back at her friends to make sure none of them had noticed the silent exchange. "Uh... I'll be right back, you guys," she said, her voice as casual as she could manage. "Just need a little fresh air."

Kiara raised an eyebrow. "Out there? In the middle of this mess?"

Imani shrugged, giving her sister a small smile. "Just need a break. Be back soon."

She made her way toward the corner, but before she could take another step, a hand shot out of nowhere, covering her mouth. The sudden action startled her, and she instinctively pressed her back against the nearest wall.

Her breath was shallow, but she knew exactly who it was. She felt the grin before she saw it, the corner of his lips tugging upward in that all too familiar way. Her eyes flickered to Rafe's, catching the wicked smile playing at his lips. She smacked his hand away from her mouth. "One of these days you're going to kill me with the way you keep sneaking up on me."

Rafe chuckled, stepping back just enough to let her breathe. "Who else is going to keep you up on your toes?"

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're lucky I didn't yell for help."

"I could give you another reason to scream," he smirked.

Imani's cheek grew hotter as she scoffed to hide it. "That's very inappropriate."

Rafe stepped in closer, his face inching toward hers, his breath hot against her skin. "Oh, I don't think so... I can give you a hand to really enjoy yourself or maybe more than a hand."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unamused. "I'll probably get bored."

Rafe leaned in even closer, just enough to make her breath catch. "You sure? I could think of a few ways to make this night a little more... entertaining. It involves you taking off this dress."

Her eyes narrowed as she gave him a playful shove, stepping back as she tried to regain control of the situation. "We're not having sex in a public place."

"What a bummer. Public sex has always been on my bucket list," he feigned a frown.

"Rafe!" Imani whispered-yelled.

"Can't help it, baby. Just trying to keep things interesting," Rafe chuckled.

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes.

"I can see you smiling," he pointed to her lips.

"Shut up," she muttered, though a laugh bubbled up from her chest despite her best efforts to stay annoyed.

Then, Imani found herself studying Rafe in a way she hadn't before. She couldn't help but let her gaze linger on him, dressed in a gray fitted polo that hugged his frame perfectly, accentuating the lean muscles of his shoulders and chest. His buzzed hair gave him a sharper edge, accentuating the hard lines of his jaw and cheekbones, bringing a mix of danger and allure that made her heart skip a beat.

"Like what you see?" Rafe murmured, his voice low and teasing as he held her gaze.

Imani raised an eyebrow. "I've seen better," she replied.

He chuckled. "Yeah?" he said, his voice a mix of challenge and amusement. "Guess I'll just have to change your mind then."

"Maybe."

"Definitely."

"I need to leave now."

Rafe's hand shot out, catching her arm gently, tugging her back with a playful grin. "Let's ditch this party instead."

Imani chuckled, shaking her head. "I can't. My parents will know I left."

"Fine. I'll see you tonight," he said.

"Can't wait," she smiled.

But as she walked away, she heard the familiar, commanding voice of Ward Cameron cutting through the noise of the party. "Rafe," he called out, his tone firm. "Who was that girl you were talking to just now?"

Imani paused mid-step, but she could hear the tension in Ward's voice. Curiosity piqued, she hesitated before peeking from behind a nearby pillar, glancing toward Rafe and Ward.

She noticed immediately how Rafe's posture stiffened, his easy confidence evaporating as his father walked up to him. For the first time, Imani saw an unexplainable shift in Rafe. His eyes were no longer playful or smouldering—they were wary. He shifted uncomfortably under Ward's gaze, his usual bravado slipping just enough for her to see the cracks.

"Who is she?" Ward asked again, his gaze sharp and insistent, pinning his son in place. His voice carried the weight of an unspoken expectation, something that seemed to push against Rafe, forcing him to explain in a way that felt more like an accusation than a question.

Rafe swallowed, his expression hardening as he looked at his father, his jaw tight. "No one important," he said, the words coming out flat and dismissive, as if he were trying to downplay everything. "She's just some girl from school."

The casual way he said it—so cold, so detached—sent a jolt through Imani's chest. The words sliced through her, reverberating in her mind as she stood there, hidden from view.

No one important. Just some girl from school.
No one important. Just some girl from school.
No one important. Just some girl from school.

She couldn't quite explain why, but something about the way he'd said it stung. It felt wrong, almost as if he were pushing her away, making her feel insignificant in a way she didn't expect.

Her heart sank, her stomach twisting with confusion and hurt. She didn't know why his words had that effect on her, why hearing him dismiss her like that—after everything they'd shared earlier—felt like a betrayal.

For the first time, Imani wondered if there was more to Rafe Cameron than she had allowed herself to see. She had expected the flirtation, the games, but this? This was different.

Keeping the tears back that were threatening to spill, she turned and slipped further into the crowd. Yet she couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted. The way Rafe's demeanour had changed. The way the words still echoed in her head like a painful reminder and the more she thought about it, the more it hurt.

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author's note:

- better not be hearing anyone complaining why they're going back and forth. it's a Rafe fic. it's gonna be messy 😂

- i have a tiktok account if you'd like to follow! it's @nyraswife.wp

- please remember to vote and comment on every chapter. gives me motivation to write more if there's no silent readers