• He’s drawn to her softness; she’s fascinated by his intensity, like he’s a puzzle she wants to solve.
• They try to study together, but it usually ends with him distracting her, pulling her into his lap or stealing her pen just to mess with her.
• Rafe hovers when she’s in the lab late, showing up unannounced with coffee (or just to drag her home).
• They don’t talk about feelings much—Rafe’s too guarded, she’s too shy—but they find peace in each other. She’ll read aloud from her textbooks while he sprawls beside her, half-listening, half-calmed by her voice.
content WARNING: voracious!rafe, mentions of blood, mentions of raw meat, mentions of BPD.
♡ notie note . . . reposting this bc it got lost n the other acc lol
Fourth year, same old campus, same old pressure from Ward clawing at his nerves. He’d parked near the freshman dorms to dodge the move-in day circus, but a scene nearby snagged his attention.
A sleek black Rolls-Royce purred to a stop, and out stepped a girl who looked like she’d walked off the cover of some fashion magazine. Her parents flanked her like bodyguards, her dad barking orders at a driver unloading designer suitcases, her mom dabbing her eyes with a silk handkerchief. The girl stood there clutching a monogrammed backpack, offering shy smiles and soft "goodbyes"s as her parents fussed. Rafe smirked despite himself. It was cute, in a ridiculous, out-of-touch kind of way. Like a princess stepping into a world she didn’t belong in. He filed her face away in his mind and drove off, figuring he’d never see her again.
Two weeks later, Rafe was slouched in the waiting room of the campus health center, leg bouncing impatiently. He was there to pick up his meds, borderline personality disorder didn’t exactly play nice with college stress, and he’d been on edge all morning. The receptionist was taking her sweet time, and the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, grating on his nerves. He rubbed a hand over his face, muttering under his breath, when the door swung open.
There she was again.
The Rolls-Royce girl.
She stumbled in, her cheeks flushed red and splotchy, one hand scratching at her neck. She looked miserable but still managed a polite "excuse me" as she shuffled to the counter. Her sundress was wrinkled, and her hair was a little messy, nothing like the pristine vision from the parking lot. Rafe’s eyes narrowed, intrigued.
“Um, hello,” she said to the nurse. “I think I’m having a… reaction? They made us eat something at the initiation thing. It was, uh, not good.” She wrinkled her nose, like she could still taste it. “I don’t know what it was. Maybe something raw? But I think I’m allergic.”
The nurse raised an eyebrow, scribbling something down. “Freshman hazing, huh? Sit tight, we’ll get you an antihistamine.”
She nodded, turning to find a seat, and that’s when her eyes landed on Rafe. He didn’t look away, didn’t bother pretending he wasn’t staring. She hesitated, then offered a small, awkward wave before sinking into the chair across from him. Up close, he could see the hives creeping up her neck, angry red against her porcelain skin. She scratched absently, then caught herself and folded her hands in her lap like she’d been scolded.
“You’re that girl from the parking lot,” Rafe said, voice low, testing the waters. “The one with the fancy car and the crying mom.”
She blinked, her eyes widening.
“Oh! You saw that?” She laughed, a little self-conscious, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yes, my parents… they’re a lot. I told them I’d be fine, but they insisted.” She shrugged, like it was normal for a college drop-off to look like a diplomatic visit.
Rafe snorted. “Yeah, it was hard to miss. What’s your deal? You some kinda heiress or something?”
Her cheeks went pink—well, pinker than the hives—and she shook her head. “No, no. Just… my family has money. I’m Y/N, by the way.” She stuck out her hand, formal and a little old-fashioned, like she’d been trained in etiquette classes.
He stared at her hand for a beat too long before shaking it, his grip firm but not crushing. “Rafe Cameron. Fourth year. You’re a freshman, right?”
She nodded, pulling her hand back to fidget with the hem of her dress. “Yes. Medical student. I just started, and already I’m here because of… what was it? A sardine-and-peanut-butter sandwich?” She shuddered, and Rafe couldn’t help the grin tugging at his lips.
“It was raw meat. Sigma Chi’s idea of a welcome. Initiation bullshit. You’re lucky it was just a taste.”
Her eyes widened, her lips parting in shock.
“Raw meat? That’s… disgusting.” She shuddered, nose wrinkling again, and Rafe found it stupidly endearing. “I told them I’m vegan, but they laughed. Said it was tradition.” She paused, tilting her head. “You know about this?”
He snorted, leaning back. “Yeah, I’m in Sigm— I’m a senior.” He didn’t offer his hand, too formal for his vibe, but his eyes flicked over her, cataloging every detail. “They used to do worse.”
She opened her glossy lips for a second and then gestured to her neck, grimacing. “Not a great start.”
Rafe’s smirk widened, something dark and playful stirring in his chest.
“You’re too cute for this place, princess.” He pulled out his phone, scrolling to a photo from his freshman year. He slid it across to her.
The image showed a younger Rafe, grinning wickedly, surrounded by other freshmen, all of them drenched in blood, faces smeared, clothes soaked. It looked like a scene from a slaughterhouse.
“Back when I pledged, they had us do this. Pig’s blood, they said. Poured buckets of it. You’re lucky we toned it down.”
Her breath hitched, her eyes glued to the photo.
“That’s… horrifying.” She handed the phone back, her fingers trembling slightly, but her voice stayed calm. “Why would anyone do that?”
Rafe shrugged, pocketing the phone, his gaze intense.
“Power. Tradition. Breaks you in.” He leaned closer, voice dropping to a murmur. “You’d look so fucking good covered in blood, though. Bet it’d make those eyes of yours glow.”
She blinked, startled, then laughed nervously, like she wasn’t sure if he was joking.
“Um… thank you? I think?” She tilted her head, that puzzled smile tugging at her lips, completely missing the hunger in his stare. She scratched again, then stopped with a sheepish smile. “You’re here a lot, then?”
He tensed, not about to spill his life story to some naive newbie. “Nah, just picking up something. I’ve been around long enough to see the patterns.” He tapped his fingers on the armrest, glancing away, but her gaze stayed on him. It threw him off.
The nurse called her name, and she stood, smoothing her dress. “It was nice to meet you, Rafe,” she said, like she meant it. “Maybe I’ll see you around? Without the… allergic disasters?”
He smirked, leaning forward now, elbows on his knees. “Yeah, maybe. Try not to eat anything weird next time, princess.”
She laughed, unbothered by the nickname and disappeared behind the counter. Rafe watched her go, something restless stirring in his chest. She was too soft for this place, too good. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to protect that or ruin it.
