Armour - Chapter Two
Rafe!AU x Reader
Summary: Having your heart broken was one thing. But Rafe watching somebody break your heart? That was something nobody could prepare for.
Warnings: Cursing, mentions/hints of a toxic relationship
Word Count: 3K
Author’s Note: I LOVE writing this series and this whole concept, I feel like I could carry it on forever - once again, this chapter was inspired by this gif so I feel like this might be an ongoing theme for this series <3 Thank you for the love y’all.
After that night, you hadn’t thought of James. You and Rafe had returned home and, when Sarah asked how your night was, you’d told her you’d slept better than you had done in days. She’d probably tell you that you were crazy for going round to the house, and tell Rafe he was stupid for getting himself involved. She’d tell him this was too much like the old Rafe, the one that craved the power and the fights, and that he wasn’t like that anymore. But you knew that little spark in Rafe would always stay - for the few people that he cared enough about to make sure that nothing bad happened to them. And you’d seen that last night, the way he’d spoken about you; someone fighting your corner.
“Good morning,” Rafe groans as he walks through to the kitchen, dragging a hand over his face.
He’s wearing a pair of joggers that hang low on his hips, accentuating the V-lines around the bottom of his abs, his torso visible for the few seconds as he struggles to pull a hoodie over his head.
“Is it even still morning?” Sarah laughs, pouring out another cup of coffee and handing it over to him.
“I had a busy day yesterday,” He rolls his eyes, “You know, travelling and all that.”
He sits down at the kitchen island beside you and offers you a small smile just before his lips touch the coffee mug, his eyes warm in the steam coming from the cup.
“Did you get up in the night, Rafe?” Sarah asks, settling a hand over her growing bump and leaning back against the kitchen counter.
He frowns over his coffee and shakes his head, “Nope, slept like a baby.”
“That’s weird,” Sarah frowns too, “I could’ve sworn I heard the door open.”
“Probably just baby brain,” He clears his throat, “I’m going to hop in the shower.”
Sarah watches with a suspicious squint in her eyes as he disappears, “I swear he gets weirder every time I see him.”
You laugh and look down as you feel a smile spread onto your face, you’d have to thank him later for last night.
Sarah comes over and takes the seat that Rafe had been sat in, shifting herself so that she’s facing you, “So, I need you to be honest with me, how are you feeling?”
You turn so that you’re facing her too and Sarah stretches out her hands for you to take, both of you squeezing into the contact, “I’m okay, so much better than I was. It’s just weird, you know? For nine years he was the person I told everything to. Even when we weren’t living together or anything, I’d wake up and send him a text or call him before I went to sleep. I keep getting this weird instinct to just reach for my phone because I feel like I haven’t heard from him and then I realise that… I don’t know, I won’t.”
She nods reassuringly but doesn’t say anything else, letting you continue.
“I just want to know why,” You laugh a little, “Not in a weird ‘what’s wrong with me’ kind of way. But just… it was nine years of my life, you know?”
“Okay, I maybe shouldn’t be suggesting this because I think, as the best friend, I’m meant to tell you to stay far away from him, but maybe it would do you some good to meet up with James and talk it all through. Do you think?”
After last night? You weren’t sure he’d ever want to see you again, especially if he thought Rafe would be with you again.
“Yeah, maybe, we’ll have to talk about everything at some point, I guess I-“
You’re cut off as your phone pings on the counter and a message notification comes up from James again.
I think we need to talk after yesterday. I’ll pick you up and we can go for coffee if you’re free?
Sarah eyes the message too, “After yesterday?”
“Right, yeah, with the box and stuff, I thought that was his final straw or something,” You look down so that she can’t realise that you’re lying, “Um, I better go and get ready, tell him that I’ll be free.”
You squeeze Sarah’s hand as you leave, hurrying up the stairs as if running from the conversation. She probably wouldn’t be too mad if you told her about last night, but she’d almost definitely tell you that it was a bad idea, that Rafe is a bad influence even all these years later. It was the same way you didn’t tell her about the night at the beach with Rafe, or the countless other nights like that - she’d tell you Rafe was her brother but it wasn’t a good idea. And you weren’t exactly ready to hear that.
You go into the bedroom that had become your own and close the door behind you, just as there is the sound of the ensuite door opening. Rafe steps out, a towel wrapped around his waist, beads of water dripping around his shoulders, dipping down from his soaked hair.
“Oh shit sorry I-“ Rafe comes to a halt, glancing up from his phone in his hand, “The shower in the other bathroom is terrible so I just… I thought you were downstairs so I-“
“Rafe, it’s fine,” You laugh, “Not anything I haven’t seen before.”
He fakes a gasp, “You’ll embarrass me, (Y/L/N).”
You roll your eyes, “I don’t think anything embarrasses you, Cameron.”
He chuckles and drags a hand through his wet hair, “So, I was thinking we should get out of the house today. I miss the beach when I’m in New York, one of the few things to miss about this place.”
“I actually,” You clear your throat, “I have something to do today.”
Rafe frowns for a second, “Ooh, mysterious,” He stretches out a hand and pokes at your side, “What are you doing?”
“I just,” You shake your head, “I have a meeting, you know, to sort out the house and stuff.”
“Oh, okay, cool,” He nods, “Well, be back by sunset and we can go for a swim. Sound good?”
“Sounds good,” You return, “Now please go and get some clothes on.”
“Keep it in your pants, (Y/N), you know you love me,” He wiggles his brows, exaggeratively swaying his hips as he walks out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Your eyes settle over the room, landing on the box still sat beside your bed. The rest of it was closed away now, but the shot glass and now your toy giraffe, sat on your nightstand. You smile a little at the sight, thinking only to yourself. It felt like a couple of brightened moments in a week you were sure wasn’t going to get any sense of light. Today would likely be another darkness, but you’d be coming home to another bright place.
~~~
Within the hour, you’re showered, changed and ready to leave, sat on the edge of your bed waiting for James to text. Twelve minutes after he’d said he’d be there, he texts to say he’s outside. You grab your jacket and hurry down the stairs, glancing back to see Rafe and John B stood outside in the garden. John B is pointing something out and he’s holding a plank of wood in one hand as if he’s preparing to build something. Rafe nods along and seemingly agrees, laughing at something John B says that seems to brighten up his eyes. Your heart sinks a little at the guilt that comes with the view, knowing he would hate to think of where you were going right now. But you open the front door and close it quickly behind you, hurrying down to the car waiting with the engine still running.
You open the door and climb in quietly, feeling oddly far when you don’t have to lean over to kiss him in greeting.
“Hey,” You breathe out when he doesn’t make any move to say it first.
“Hi,” James glances at you, “Where do you want to go?”
“Are there really many options?” You frown, settling your hands into your lap and picking at the skin beside your thumb to give you something to focus on.
James chuckles a little and moves to reverse out of the driveway, “Fair point, let’s go.”
He drives you the short distance across the island to the one coffee shop that anyone actually used here. It’s near enough empty as you step through, thanking James for holding the door open for you. You order your regular and he orders his, sitting at a table in the far corner as if sheltering yourself from the world.
“So, I would ask how you’ve been but that feels weird when I saw you yesterday,” James comments, dragging his finger around the rim of the coffee cup on the table, “But how have you been?”
You swallow down a sip of your drink, too hot so it scratches your throat as it goes, “I’m okay, and I’m sorry about last night.”
He shakes his head, “Look, it’s your house too (Y/N), at least until we sort everything out. I just don’t know why you didn’t text me. And why you thought you should just show up in the middle of the night with Rafe?”
You nod as if you’re being told off, “No, I know. It was stupid. It was late and we were just planning on getting in and leaving, I didn’t plan on you seeing him, and I especially didn’t want the two of you to argue, you know that.”
He’s silent in his agreement, pausing for enough time for it to settle before he says, “So why is he here?”
“He’s back from New York for a few days, just coming to see Sarah,” You explain, taking another sip of your drink and wincing as it burns at your tongue.
“Perfect timing,” James raises his brows momentarily as if being sarcastic, “I’m sure he was happy to see you.”
“Wha-“ You pause, reconsidering the idea of starting up an argument that he’s already ignited, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Come on, (Y/N),” James rolls his eyes, “I know the way he used to be with you.”
“We’re friends, we’ve always been friends.”
Perhaps that wasn’t so true, just maybe. Before you and James got together, you’d been so sure that you and Rafe would be inevitable. There was the night you kissed at the party, there was the night on the beach with far too much alcohol, there were countless days and countless nights. Just as you were losing hope of him ever reciprocating your feelings, you’d seen him kiss a girl at another party, and you’d used that as confirmation enough. Two weeks later, you’d gone on your first date with James. Nine years later, you’d still never told Rafe how you’d felt before that - especially since the two of you had started living such different lives.
“I knew how he felt about you, it was obvious. God, the first time I met those guys he acted like I was the worst person he’d ever met,” James scoffs, “I thought he was going to rip my head off when I said we’d be moving away for college. He could’ve done the same last night, too.”
“You know, you don’t get to talk like that anymore. You split up with me. So it shouldn’t matter to you how anyone feels about me, whether or not that’s true,” You defend, tucking your arms around yourself as if closing yourself away from him.
“I don’t think I noticed it when we were in college, it was just me and you in our own little world and for a long time I thought that’s what would make us last. But we moved back here and it’s like everywhere you turn there’s another memory of you two - another piece of him that you’re holding onto even years later.”
“We’re friends. He means a lot to me. That’s what friends are.”
You let the silence fall.
He’s silent too and it surprises you. Normally, he would find any way to keep an argument going if he’d started it, he’d argue back and forth constantly until you agreed - he didn’t just let arguments end.
“I didn’t come here to argue with you,” He takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry for the way I ended things. I know I probably didn’t go about things in the right way, but I think if I’d have tried to do anything else I… well, I don’t think I’d have been able to do it.”
You feel the lump grow in your throat, the way it seems to constrict your words just a little too much as you say, “Then why did you?”
He breaks eye contact then and looks down at his cup, his finger still swirling around the edge in continuous circles, “Do you remember the first time we went out?”
“Our first date?”
“I picked you up from your house and I had to wait down the road because your parents might see me. And we went out, and I knew then that this was it for me, like within one date I’d just already decided,” He doesn’t meet your eyes, “And then I walked you home and I stopped around the corner again so that your parents wouldn’t see me. And you walked up to your house and Rafe was sat on the steps up to your porch, just waiting for you to get home.”
Your heart sinks at his words, like a weird feeling of not knowing the inevitable.
“And I guess for the past nine years that’s how it’s always felt; like Rafe was just waiting for you to go back home to him.”
“You’re blaming this on Rafe?” You raise your brows, your words feeling coarse and dry as you speak, “We were together for nine years. I chose you for nine years, every fucking day I chose you, and you want to tell me that you blame this on Rafe? That Rafe’s the reason you broke my heart?”
“Broke your heart,” James repeats, nodding slowly, “Your heart didn’t seem too broken last night.”
You let out a scoff and bite down just a little on the tip of your tongue as if trying to calm the anger bubbling out of you, “Right, yeah. I had one night where I felt a little bit fucking human again, after not sleeping, not eating, crying until I thought I’d be sick. After asking myself over and over and over again - what did I do? what should I have done? what’s wrong with me? And this whole thing you’re just going to blame on Rafe?”
“Where is he right now (Y/N)?”
You stop in your tracks, your hand clenching around the heat of your coffee mug, your words seeming to sink in the air between you.
James takes a long pause, his eyes scanning your face as if waiting for you to find the answer, “Waiting for you to come home.”
~~~
It’s an uncomfortable drive back. Neither of you speak a word. So much so that the tyres suddenly seem to make too much noise on the road, and you feel like you can hear the sound of the wheel turning under his grip. There’s a welcome relief when you watch the car turn into the driveway towards Sarah’s house, and an overwhelming dread when you catch the sight you know that James has seen too.
Rafe is sat on the steps in front of their house, the copy of To Kill A Mockingbird in his hands, a third of the way through the pages. He glances up at the sound of the car, a slight drop in his features as he recognises the face behind the wheel. He sets the book down on the side of the steps and stands up, his jaw clenching as you watch him.
James doesn’t say a word, but there’s the slightest tiniest hint of a smirk on his lips as if he’s been proven right about everything.
You wait until he cuts the engine and pull your seatbelt off, pausing before you push open the door, “I didn’t know that he’d be-“
James opens his own door and pushes himself out before you have a chance to say anything else. You follow suit quickly, scrambling out like the car’s on fire.
“Couldn’t wait to jump on her could you, buddy?” James bellows, storming over to Rafe.
“Excuse me?” Rafe looks taken aback, glancing at you as your eyes catch, “This is the house meeting you were talking about?”
“House meeting?” James looks at you, “So you couldn’t even tell him you were seeing me?”
“I just- I didn’t-“
“So what is it? You’re trying to come crawling back to her?” Rafe interjects and you flick your eyes to him as if a warning, though now he is only focused on James.
“You want to talk about crawling back? It seems pretty fucking convenient that you show your face around here the minute (Y/N)’s not got a boyfriend anymore.”
“Right, yeah, that’s why I’m here. Maybe it’s a good thing I came home, to pick up the pieces of the shit you left her in.”
In a conversation about yourself, you’ve never felt smaller. It’s like you’re shrinking into the space around them, disappearing when all of their anger is fuelled by you and focused on themselves. You’re sure you could disappear and they’d remain - hot headed in their hatred.
“Pick up the pieces? That’s what you think you’re doing?” James laughs, both of them practically steaming in their anger, “You’re not doing fuck all to help when you’re trying to get into her pants two seconds after she’s singl-“
“Enough!” You yell, sounding like the word has come from someone other than yourself as you feel your hands start to tremble.
Both of the boys silence, finally looking away from each other to focus on you, their anger sinking into the same pool as your disapproval. Rafe’s eyes seem to settle back into himself, like a realisation of how he’d been acting - he’d been doing the exact thing that he hated seeing in James, the way he ignored you in favor of his own focus. He looks like his younger self when you watch him. That anger, that hatred, the kind that he’d had before he moved away. That kind that gave him a million more problems. He’s that boy again.
“Just stop doing this, okay?” You drag a hand through your hair, “Neither of you get to talk on my behalf. Neither of you get to choose what’s best for me, or force this narrative of what you think is going on in my life. I’m sick of it. Have this masculinity battle some other time but god do it when I’m not here.”
With that, you disappear around the side of the house, shortcutting through the garden gate and finally letting yourself breathe, the tension in your chest seeming to return.
Rafe looks at James as if he could go again but in that moment all he can think of is you. The disappointment in your face as you’d walked away, the way you looked at him like you didn’t really know him. He drags a hand through his hair and all he can think of is how you tell him you’re sure he could suit any hairstyle. He stops himself from smiling, the urge fading when he looks at James again.
“So, what? Maybe a week or so and you’ll ask her on a date?” James folds his arms over his chest, “Or is a week just too long to wait? Hell, maybe you’ll be engaged within the month.”
“You know what, James,” Rafe clenches and unclenches his jaw, “Just go,” He waves his hand in the boys direction, his body turning away from him as if it’s gravitating back to you.
And with only the thought of you, he backs away from the fight.
~~~
You’re sat on the half-made dock at the end of Sarah and John B’s lawn, your feet pushing through the surface of the water aimlessly, eyes focused on the way the water curves around your ankles. Your chest has seemingly settled now but if you let yourself think of everything for too long it seems to flurry in anxiety again.
“Can I sit? Or should I put myself in time out?” The words come with the sound of footsteps creaking along the wooden planks, pausing as if they’re sure they are a safe distance from you.
You don’t turn around, “Sit, as long as you promise to be quiet.”
Rafe mumbles a ‘yes ma’am’ and takes his spot on the edge of the dock beside you. You feel him looking at you, his eyes burning into you as they scan your face. You weren’t crying and it seems to relieve the tiniest bit of worry within him. But you looked drained. Not tired in the way you were when he first saw you - but drained in the way that life seems to have been just slightly pulled away from you.
He opens his mouth to speak but stops as you lean back, fingers linking between your hands over your stomach as you lay against the dock. The sun hangs bright above you and you close your eyes, a deep breath forcing a rise and fall in your chest. Rafe watches you, the innocence in your features. He’d relied on those exact features for a lot of moments in his life. Your smile when he needed reminding of a good memory, the way your jaw clenches when you’re angry when he needed reminding of when he was in the wrong. Your eyes when he needed to come back home.
After a moment, he leans himself back too, his shirt wrinkling against the wood as he lays down, one arm tucking underneath his head. He turns his face towards you, observing.
You poke one eye open and squint in his direction, “Stop staring, weirdo.”
Rafe smiles, “So you’re not completely ignoring me,” He nods his head a little against his arm, “Does that mean I’m at like a six on the scale?”
“The scale?”
“The scale. How mad you are at something, you don’t remember?”
Of course you remember. When the two of you had been at school, he’d used that ‘scale’ as a way of you telling him how bad your day was - on the days when you had exams, and your friends were being shitty, and your parents were having problems at home, you’d say you were closer to a 10. It applied to everything - when he annoyed you, when you and Sarah had argued over something silly, everything.
“I’m a seven.”
He laughs a little and it seems to sit welcomingly in the space between you, easing the clench in your chest just enough.
The two of you stay in silence for a while after that, watching the sun disappear momentarily behind a cloud, casting a welcome shade over the water. You focus on the rise and fall of your chest, breathing in and out deeply to avoid the discomfort coming from laying on the dock. Rafe stays still beside you for a while, before his leg slightly shifts to the side so that his knee knocks against yours. You fight back a smile and turn around to look at him;
“Yes?” You raise your brows.
He pushes himself up so he’s leaning over you on his elbows, his head blocking the sun out so you can look at him without completely squinting against the light.
“I’m sorry,” He nods, “I really did have no idea you were with him, I was just waiting until you got back. And I don’t know, as soon as he said that I just felt like I lost it. It was weird, I don’t think I’ve felt angry like that in years.”
You nod in response, watching the guilt cast a darkness over his features.
“How did it go with you two today?”
You push yourself to lean up on your elbows too, matching his stance as he settles back to his side of the dock.
“Well, he’s not your biggest fan,” You laugh a little, staring out on the stillness of the water, “I don’t know, it just seems like he wants to think our relationship was doomed from the start, like we were just putting off the inevitable.”
“Well, did you ever feel like that?”
You take a deep breath, “I don’t think so. I don’t know, I just thought we’d stay together. God, I think after our third anniversary I was pretty certain that this would be it. But after what he said today it just feels like the two of us had been in two different relationships for all this time. And now I’m thinking, why didn’t he ever propose? Why did he want to move back here when I had my whole life at college? I mean, shit, Sarah’s having a kid and I was still just a girlfriend after nine years.”
Rafe nods, “Yeah I know what you mean. He was crazy for not wanting to marry you after all that time.”
You turn your head to look at him but he stays looking out over the water dismissively.
“God, who wouldn’t want to marry you?”
You feel your heart swell for just a second and turn your head away from him to look back over the water, both of you letting the silence fill in the empty gaps of the conversation you hadn’t yet had, that you didn’t need to have just yet.
“So, the sun is about an hour from setting,” Rafe points out, “How about that swim?”
~~~
You make your way back downstairs with your swimsuit on, a towel held under one arm, your flip-flops slapping against the wooden steps.
“Hey! I feel like I haven’t seen you today, how did it go with James?” Sarah stands up from the couch as you come downstairs, “Are you going out?”
You glance out at the garden, Rafe not visible along the stretch of the lawn, “Yeah, I’m just going for a swim. And it went well with James, a little bit of closure at least. Still feels weird.”
“It’s bound to,” Sarah nods, reaching out a hand to squeeze your arm, “Did you tell Rafe that you saw him?”
“Um, yeah, yeah, he knows,” You scratch at the back of your neck.
“God, I’m surprised he didn’t flip. I don’t think there’s anyone he hates as much as he hates James,” Sarah shakes her head.
You’re about to speak again but are cut off by the sound of the garden door sliding open. Rafe appears on the other side, poking his head through the created gap between the door and the wall.
“You ready to go (Y/L/N)?” He looks at you, a soft smile on his lips, a sort of calm resting in his features.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” You return softly and he nods, disappearing again.
“He’s so different when he sees you,” Sarah shakes her head, glancing over at the spot where her brother had just been.
“Different how?” You frown, letting your eyes trail back to her.
She shrugs her shoulders and rests a hand over her bump, running her fingers over the skin, “Just like he’s grounded, like he’s home.”
You feel the lump form in your throat, the way it once again makes it feel impossible to think of anything to say.
“Go on, he might be grounded but he’s still impatient,” Sarah jokes, gesturing her head in the direction of the door.
You laugh and follow her instruction, closing the glass door behind you as you walk down to the dock. Rafe is sat on the edge, his legs dangling over into the water. In only his swim-shorts, you can see the contortions of his muscles across his shoulders, the way they dip in his skin and seem to make him look bigger than he ever seemed normally. His skin isn’t as tanned as you remember him being but you suppose he doesn’t get as much sun when he’s in New York - not the kind he got here, anyway. And part of you seems to remember just how distant he was nowadays, his return feeling all the more temporary.
You hang your towel over the edge of the dock next to his and pull off your flip flops, leaving them at the edge too before breaking into a sprint straight past him. Your arms outstretch in front of you and break the surface of the water first, submerging your underneath until your toes feel the cold of the still water too.
Your head breaks the surface and you drag your hands up to draw your hair way from your face, now slick against your scalp.
“Very graceful,” Rafe smirks, “How on earth do I follow that?”
You watch him stand from the dock, stretching upwards before taking a few steps back. Within a split second, he catapults himself into the air, drawing his knees upwards so that he lands in a cannonball into the water, spray dispersing into the air and all over you.
“Well, I wouldn’t call that graceful,” You laugh, blinking away the water from your eyes.
From where Sarah and John B’s house was, you could see the sunset through a clearing in the trees if you swam around to the right angle. And you and Rafe knew the islands well enough to know exactly where to go.
By the time you swim around, the sky is painted with a yellow hue, sun lowering down seemingly a few feet from the horizon.
“I’m sorry about today,” Rafe breaks the silence, turning himself in the water to face you.
You kick forward so that your body tilts back, head hanging into the surface water, “You already said that.”
“I know, I just hate when I feel like I’ve disappointed you,” He comments, watching the way your body floats in the water.
You smile a little to the sky, “You didn’t disappoint me.”
He pauses for a moment, “So, I didn’t ask you earlier but, did he tell you the reason why he ended things?”
Your body tilts to turn you upright once again in the water, hands pushing through either side of you to maintain your position, eyes locking onto him. His hair is slick against his head and there are small beads of water trailing down either side of his cheeks, looping around under his jawline. He’s home. For the first time in years, he’s back here and it feels like it’s actually him - not some replaced or changed version. You’re both back to being sixteen again, sneaking liquor out of your houses, staying up until the sun called you home, misfit ways of surviving life in this isolated haven. And you realise it then, for a fleeting moment where you let yourself accept it - it’s Rafe that makes this place home.
“He…” Your voice trails off then, considering every possible outcome that would come in return for telling Rafe exactly what had been said earlier, exactly what you’d come to learn.
But the moment is fleeting. And you’re back in seconds to a reality. To a broken heart and a broken home, to New York, to your future, to James, to Sarah just a matter of metres away, to everything and everyone that you didn’t want to lose. To Rafe.
“He couldn’t give me a reason,” You swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes not breaking away from Rafe.
“The guy’s an idiot,” Rafe shakes his head, turning away from you and towards the sun.
You watch as he does, watching the glow that radiates from his skin, the way it seems to warm the air around him.
James might be an idiot, but maybe he was right.
———
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