Armour
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: Suggestions of a toxic relationship, cursing, mentions of alcohol / drug dependency, I think that’s everything??
Word Count: 4.1k
Author’s Note: I LOVED writing this - it took me ages but I just had the idea from this gif and went for it. Let me know if you like it <3
It wasn’t a feeling you could describe. Because, really, it felt like there was no explanation. You’d been in love. You’d been consumed. And now? Nothing. It felt like a part of your future had been torn away in front of you. And you didn’t know why.
For nine years now you’d been dating your boyfriend, James. He was your high school relationship, turned college relationship, and the two of you had returned to the Outer Banks and bought a place together - planning on staying here so that he could work for his father now that the two of you had graduated college.
You’d been living in the house for a year now, down the road from his parents’ home, where he’d grown up. It was weird really, you’d been so certain that you wanted to get off the island. But he’d suggested moving back here and you agreed. That was what was going to keep him happy, anyway. And, plus, him working for his Dad’s company would mean that the two of you were practically set for life. Though it felt strange to think that your life would begin and end here. You’d done it for him, for your relationship, your future with James.
And yet you couldn’t figure out where things had changed. You couldn’t pinpoint a day, a moment, an argument; nothing. One day he was yours and the next he was disappearing. And, as much as you wanted to keep him, there was only so much it was in your control.
It was a day burned into your mind, one that would remain burned there for a long time. The way he’d looked at you, cold and heartless. The way he’d spoken, yelled and screamed when you disagreed. And, just like that, he’d packed a bag and walked out towards his parents’ place, telling you that it was over. Nine years of a relationship slipping away, disappearing into the dark of your first night alone.
Sarah had come round that night and stayed with you, her baby bump growing into her fifth month of pregnancy. She’d stayed with you on the couch as you cried, still been there in the morning when your eyes were tired and puffy. She’d stayed the entire day and helped pack up as many of your things as you could, called John B to get him to help take your stuff to their house.
They lived where the chalet used to be, in a house John B had built with the boys, much bigger than what they used to have. One of the rooms was taken up by the starts of their nursery, and they’d already set up an air mattress in the other room for you, a spare sheet and comforter folded on top. You didn’t sleep much more than a couple of hours that night either, or the night after, and you only slept from exhaustion on the fourth night.
“Hey, (Y/N),” Sarah knocks gently on the door before letting herself in, “How are you doing?”
You pull yourself to sit up in the bed, pushing yourself back against the headboard, drawing your knees to your chest, “I’m okay, just tired.”
She frowns and comes to sit on the bed beside you, her hand squeezing your knee, “So, you don’t have to see him if you don’t want to, but my brother is flying back today.”
Rafe. Her older brother. The boy you’d grown up with. He’d been your first kiss at a party when both of you were too young to know what you were doing. He’d been the boy that picked you up from your first drunk night when your parents couldn’t know you’d been drinking. He’d been the one your eyes were drawn to in a crowd of people since you could remember. You hadn’t seen him since the summer after your first year of college. He’d decided to move to New York - taking up a job in the city. The two of you had sat on the dock and spoken for hours and he ended the conversation by telling you he was leaving in the morning. Since then, your paths hadn’t crossed. He was barely home nowadays. But, you suppose, with Sarah being pregnant, it was a better time than any for him to return to the old stomping grounds.
“He’s coming here?” You swallow the lump in your throat.
She nods, “He’s going to sleep on the couch for a couple of nights. I haven’t told him anything about you and James - I figured it was up to you if you wanted to tell him or not.”
You take a deep breath and nod too, “Okay, thank you.”
Sarah squeezes your leg again and places her other hand over her bump, pushing herself up to stand, “John B is making some food if you want any breakfast. I’d make the most of it, he hates cooking normally,” She laughs, the sympathy still casting a shadow over her bright eyes.
Sarah knew how things were with you and Rafe, as much as she never mentioned it to you - it was a conversation that it felt like the two of you had already had without any words being spoken. She’d seen his face after the two of you kissed, the way he blushed and stuttered afterwards. She’d watched the way things had changed between you when you and James got together, the way Rafe seemed to distance. And she’d watched the pain in your eyes the day he left, like a little window through to the ache that seemed to never leave your heart. And, right now, she’d seen the slightest glimmer of hope in you at the mention of him coming home.
For the first time in a few days, you find yourself actually wanting to get up, get ready, feel a little human for the day. You shower and do all of your skincare, spending a little longer on it than you usually do. You half-dry your hair and plait it instead of leaving it to frizz around your head, and you change into clean clothes from the duffle bag of things that you and Sarah had packed up from your house - well, what was your house.
By the time you come downstairs, John B and Sarah are sat at the dining table, tucking into plates of food with a fresh pot of coffee and a jug of orange juice on the table. One of his arms is around the back of her chair, his eyes bright as he listens to her speak.
“Hey! You’re up!” He looks over and grins as you come down the stairs, “How are you feeling today?”
You smooth a hand over the two braids on your head and smile, feeling like you have to force it just a little less than before, “Better, thank you.”
“Good, well there’s food here if you want it,” He gestures to the table, “And eat up quick because Sarah’s eating enough for two at the minute.”
You laugh and make your way over, sitting down at the opposite side of the table. From the angle, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror in their lounge and the sight doesn’t feel like yourself. Your eyes are dark underneath, something no eye cream would fix after just one use. And your body seems weirdly shrunken in the sweatshirt around your figure. It sits long over your arms and so baggy that you can’t make out the shape of your torso. Your skin looks drier and your lips are chapped. But you remind yourself that you feel a little more human today and it seems to ease the worry for a while, your breath feeling less shaky as you turn back to the food.
“Oh shit, I didn’t realise the time,” John B glances at the clock, “I promised I’d go and help Pope build their crib before I went to pick your brother up - apparently I’m a pro at it now.”
Pope and Cleo were also expecting, due just a month after Sarah and John B’s baby would likely be born. They lived in a house not far from his parents’ place. JJ and Kie had come back to the Outer Banks a few months ago after travelling for a year - though they said it was less travelling and more finding as many places to surf as they could. Before that, Kie had been working on turtle conservation in a few different projects and JJ had been flying out everywhere with her - experiencing the world as a pair. They had no plans of marriage, or kids, or even where to settle, but that was perfect for them; chasing another adventure until it felt like they’d done it all. And you - whilst it felt like all of your friends were starting a new chapter, yours had just ended and the author was yet to think of where the story would go next. It was as if one of the main characters had just dropped out of the pages, leaving the story in ruins from here on out - all chapters of marriage and pregnancy and growing old together disappearing as quickly as James had told you it was over.
John B kisses Sarah a quick goodbye and grabs the keys to his truck, disappearing outside. A chill flurries through the house but it dissipates quickly, settling back into the home they’d managed to make together. You weren’t sure if you could remember your house feeling like that, and when you think about it for too long, you settle on the fact that maybe it never had.
~~~
It’s early afternoon when you hear the sound of a car in the driveway. And you’re sure your ears prick up to the noise, your heart seeming to pause a little in preparation. You set down the book in your hands and stand up from the couch, glancing at your appearance in the mirror quickly and dragging your fingertips underneath your eyes as if to push the fatigue away from them.
“I think that’s them back,” Sarah comments as she comes downstairs, making her way over to the door, “Yeah, that’s them! Are you okay?”
You glance at her and regather your words, “Of course.”
And, just like that, the door clicks open and the sound of two rumbling voices tumbles into the room, a deep laugh that pauses halfway through.
“Hey little sis!” Rafe’s voice seems no different than when you last heard it, deep and intense but seemingly so comforting.
He grins as he wraps his arms around his sister, cautiously as if the bump between them is the most fragile thing he’s seen. His eyes flick down to the baby bump and back up, shaking his head with the slightest reflection of tears in his eyes.
“I still can’t believe it,” He chuckles, hugging her again, “I was just saying to John B that I-“
As he pulls away from her, his eyes flick back to the only other body in the room. The few metres between you. His shoulders and features soften, his body relaxing just slightly. His smile falters, somewhere close to shock, before returning as bright as it had been before.
“(Y/N)…” His voice seems to trail off, Adam’s apple bobbing and the sound of his duffle bag hitting the floor seeming to echo in the space between you, “Long time no see.”
With that, he strides the short distance between you and wraps his arms around you tightly, tight enough that your feet just slightly lift from the ground. He smells like dark cologne and coffee and his hair is longer than when you’d seen him last, his face seeming fuller and sharper as if he’d grown into himself, a shadow of stubble growing darker around his jawline.
“I didn’t know you’d be here,” He comments, settling you back as he steps away from you, hands still gripping your forearms - his eyes seem to graze over you as if checking over.
“Yeah I-“ You clear your throat, voice seeming scratchy as your eyes find it impossible to leave him, “I’m just staying for a few days.”
“God, it’s good to see you,” His brows raise with his smile, a light laugh warming the space between you before Rafe seems to come back to himself, clearing his throat and letting go of his hold around your arms, one of his hands flying up to scratch at the back of his neck.
“I’ll leave your stuff down here if that’s okay, Rafe,” Sarah comments, “Are you sure you’re okay with sleeping on the couch?”
He turns away from you and takes a second to rejoin a conversation away from you, nodding, “Yeah, of course. We all know I slept in way worse places after drunk nights before.”
You’d learnt from Sarah that Rafe was completely sober now - he’d stopped the drinking and the drugs not long after you’d gone off to college, and Sarah still swore it was like a weird shift into his old self coming back. You weren’t sure that you knew what she meant - he’d always been Rafe to you.
“Alright, I’ll bring down some pillows and a blanket,” John B nods, jogging upstairs.
Before you can say anything else, your phone starts to ring on one of the side tables by the couch, buzzing loudly against the wooden surface. The screen flashes up with “James” accompanied by a blue heart emoji and a photo of the two of you on vacation that you still hadn’t removed.
“I-“ You feel your cheeks heat, “I should take this.”
You grab the phone and flee down the corridor, only answering the call when you’re outside, the door to the garden remaining ajar behind you.
“Hello?”
“(Y/N),” He returns, his voice seeming cold even through the speaker of your phone, “Are you still at Sarah’s?”
“Yeah I’m just staying here for a few days I-“
“Okay, I have more of your stuff to drop off,” James cuts in, “I’ll swing by and leave it at the front door.”
“James can we just-“
He hangs up then and the phone feels heavy in your hand, still lightly pressed against your ear as if any part of him still remained. Your heart seems to clench and your bottom lip quivers but you pierce your lips together tightly to stop it, clenching your nails into your palm until the slight sting centres you back into where you were. This morning had felt like a better day, a few steps forward, and within just a few short words you seemed to have tumbled all the way back to square one.
When you turn around and go back inside, it’s just Rafe left in the lounge.
“Where did-“
“Something to do with pregnancy,” Rafe narrows his eyes a little, a small smile on his lips, “But I have no idea what she actually said.”
You nod and wrap your arms around yourself, avoiding his gaze.
He frowns, standing up from the couch, “Is everything okay?”
You nod again.
“I saw you were reading To Kill A Mockingbird, do you like it? I realise I never asked you,” He picks up your copy from the table and brushes a thumb over the worn cover.
He’d given you that book when you’d graduated. You’d read it front to back at least four times since then, sometimes just reading the annotations that he’d put in the margins instead of the printed words on the page.
“It’s the one I gave you,” His brows drop as if in sudden realisation, and his eyes seem brighter like they’re swelling with the hints of pride in his heart, “I didn’t even realise it was the same one. I can’t believe you’ve still got this.”
You fiddle with the material on the sleeves of your jumper, noticing how it seems to scratch at your skin more now, “Yeah, same one.”
Rafe glances up and the pride in his eyes seems to etch towards worry, “(Y/N), what’s going on?”
You shake your head again, “Um, I think I’m going to go and lie down. I should probably give you a chance to settle in anyway, you’ve been travelling and everything.”
With a slight stumble over your words, you hurry towards the stairs, disappearing out of his sight before he has the chance to stop you.
~~~
Somewhere between then and now, you’d fallen asleep. You wake up hours later and the sun has shifted to the afternoon angle that meant it no longer came burning through the window in the spare bedroom. The house is quiet but you can hear the sound of conversation downstairs, quiet voices and hushed tones.
When you open your bedroom door, the conversation becomes clearer - Rafe and Sarah.
“She’s not herself, why won’t you tell me what’s happened?” Rafe says, and you can hear the worry injected into his words.
“Rafe, I can’t tell you for her, you’ve just got to wait until she’s ready to talk about it,” Sarah explains, “It’s been years since you two have seen each other, you can’t blame her for not wanting to talk to you about stuff yet.”
“We used to talk about everything, I knew everything about her,” Rafe returns, “I’ve just… I’ve missed her. And I’ve come back but it still feels like I haven’t got her back.”
You feel the weight settle and flutter on your chest, a weird combination between wanting to run down to him and run away from it all. It felt weird to have Rafe back when you felt so distant from yourself. The closest to him you’d been in years and yet feeling like the furthest from you.
One of the floorboards creaks beneath your feet and their conversation quickly ceases. You take that as your sign to go downstairs, feeling a little more human now that you’d caught up on another few hours of sleep.
“Hi honey,” Sarah smiles warmly, “There’s a box of stuff for you on the counter.”
“Of course there is,” You roll your eyes at her and she laughs a little, “Thank you.”
It’s an unlabelled box, likely one of the small ones you’d used to move into the house in the first place. But you take the lid on top as a sign to not open it - whatever was in there you probably didn’t want to be thinking about now. It could be opened on one of your bad days when you needed to cry. Until then, it could definitely be ignored.
“Alright I’m just going to call John B and get him to pick up some dinner on the way home,” Sarah comments, walking out of the kitchen and into the lounge instead.
Rafe is leaning back against one of the counters, a red solo cup in his hand, his eyes looking down as he swirls around the liquid in the cup.
“I thought you stopped drinking,” You comment, gesturing to his hands.
He chuckles a little and looks up at you, “Yeah, yeah, I did. It’s just water. This was the first cup I could find.”
You nod and walk over to him, leaning against the kitchen island opposite Rafe so that you were facing him, your arms folding over your chest.
“So, how’s New York?”
Rafe smiles, “Very different from home. Sometimes a good different, other times not so much. Just a lot to get used to, you know?”
You nod in agreement but don’t say anything.
“Makes me realise how much I miss from home.”
Your eyes find his again and both of you smile just enough for it to be visible. The air feels warmer between you, warmer still every time your eyes meet.
“So, you moved back here, to the Outer Banks, glad to come home?”
“I don’t-“ You purse your lips for a second, “I did, when I first got back. I don’t know anymore.”
He’s silent in return and your eyes lose contact, yours flicking to the floor. Rafe stretches out one of his feet and nudges at your ankle, tapping you, “Hey.”
You look up and let your eyes return to his, his gaze softening as his words quieten. The tension in you seems to relax just enough.
“What happened, (Y/N)?”
You feel the lump reform in your throat, the way it seems to constrict any chance you have of speaking, the way your muscles feel weaker, like you could crumble there and then, “I don’t know.”
The words come out barely audible, scratching from your tongue as your bottom lip trembles a little.
“One day we were fine, the next he told me it was over,” You half-laugh because you’re certain it’s the only way you can avoid crying, though tears are already blurring your vision, “I don’t know what happened.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe steps forward and pulls your arms from around your torso, guiding them around his back before wrapping his own arms around you too, letting your head bury onto his chest. He brings a hand up to your hair and keeps you close to him, tightening his hold on you as much as he possibly can.
You let yourself cry into him, tears staining the t-shirt as you grip onto the material at the back, holding him like you’re terrified that he’ll slip away too. Despite the way you need him to hold you, you’re sure that he needs you too - in the way his chin rests on top of your hair, the way he adjusts every few seconds as if reassuring himself that you couldn’t get any closer.
The pair of you stay like that for a short infinity, neither of you wanting to be the first to move, both of you certain that years of emotion is pouring into the single gesture, the single contact after years without. A short infinity.
~~~
That night, you sit down for dinner with Sarah, John B and Rafe. They all make sure that you fill your plate of food first, and encourage you to have the last slice of pizza. They look at you with a sense of relief on their features, like you were back just a little more than you had been. Rafe’s arm settles over the back of your chair, his other hand wrapped around a glass of water. He looks at you when you speak and chuckles deeply when you make a quiet joke. You feel the most human you’ve felt in years.
And when you go to bed that night, it feels less likely that you’ll be lying awake questioning everything, much more likely that you’ll sleep soundly. You change into your pyjamas - a baggy t-shirt and a pair of shorts - and get under the covers, tugging them up to your neck.
Just then, there’s a knock at the door, a little tap like it isn’t sure if it wants to be heard.
“Come in,” You announce, pushing yourself to sit up a little against the headboard.
It’s Rafe on the other side, only his silhouette visible against the dark of the room, the light of the corridor illuminating him from behind, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” He whispers into the dark, “I was just downstairs and I realised you left this.”
His hands are wrapped around the copy of your book, the pages slightly folded at the corner.
“Oh, right, yeah, I forgot it,” You smile, “Thank you.”
“You just, you normally always read before bed,” He continues, bringing it over as the bedroom door starts to shut slowly behind him, “Well, you used to, I don’t know if you still do that anymore, I just remember when you used to- I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”
You laugh a little and he sets the book down on your nightstand.
“So, you promise you’re okay?”
“I will be,” You return, watching as he stands awkwardly at the side of your bed, like he’s completely out of place, “Do you want to sit down?”
His mouth opens and closes like he’s not sure what to say but he nods, walking around to the other side of the bed and sitting down beside you, looking out of place still in his clothes from the day.
You’re both silent, illuminated by the slither of light coming through from the ajar bedroom door. On the far side of the room, there’s a vanity stretching across the wall, it’s scattered with a few of your belongings, and right in the middle sits the box that James had dropped off earlier.
Rafe nods his head in the direction of it, “So, have you opened that?”
You look at him and frown, “No, no I haven’t.”
“Don’t you want to know what he’s given you?”
You laugh a little, “I can tell you want to know. Go and get it, let’s open it.”
He chuckles and scrambles to stand up, grabbing the box and bringing it back over. Rafe settles himself back into the bed and sets the box down between the two of you, “Go on, you do the honours.”
You laugh and take the lid off. The box is only half full, littered with a few relatively meaningless things. There’s a couple of your tops, a jewellery box you took when you went on vacation, a couple of bracelets, a photoframe - empty, though that had once held a photo of you and James together.
“Holy shit! You kept this?” Rafe exclaims, picking up a shot glass that had been buried under a few things.
The glass had come from a night the two of you had snuck into the bar near the port. You’d managed to pick the lock on the door, spent hours just the two of you chatting and figuring out random drinks to make. Rafe had poured you shots of every liquor he could find and you’d shared each one, grimacing a little less with every shot as the alcohol started to take effect. You’d left some time after sunrise, managed to stumble your way down to the beach, and woke up hours later with the shot glass still held in your grasp. It had come with you to college, and came back when you moved back home. A little pocketed story that only you and Rafe knew.
“Of course I did,” You giggle, “That was a good night.”
Rafe traces his thumb around the top of the glass, “Yeah, it was I loved that night.”
“Do you remember it?” You scoff, “We were wasted.”
You remembered it. You were so sure he was going to kiss you, then. To kiss you for the first time that wasn’t controlled by a party game. To kiss you for the first time away from a party of laughing eyes. He’d looked at you like he was going to kiss you, but he never did. Though, when you slept, he’d linked his fingers with yours, squeezing three times before both of you fell asleep. His hand, just like the shot glass, had still been in yours hours later.
“I remember.”
The silence falls once again as both of you pick and pull at the rest of the objects in the box. Nothing takes much interest after that, but you find yourself instead drawn to what was missing.
“It’s not in here,” You mumble, pulling through the box one more time to check again.
“What isn’t?” Rafe frowns, “What’s not there?”
“It’s um-“ You clear your throat, glancing up at him, “It’s stupid really.”
He shakes his head, “It’s not stupid, what is it?”
“Do you remember that little giraffe I used to have? My nana got it for me when I was a kid, it’s not in here, and I couldn’t find it when me and Sarah got my stuff. It’s not here,” You frown again, taking out the shot glass and closing the lid on the rest of the box.
“Well, it’s got to be at the house somewhere,” Rafe shrugs, “We’ll find it.”
You half-laugh, setting the box down on the floor beside the bed, “What are we going to do? Break into the house?”
Your laugh continues but Rafe’s stops after a split second, shrugging his shoulders, “Let’s do it.”
You halt in your movements, looking at the way his eyes seem so set on you, like nothing could tear them away, “You’re serious.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
~~~
That’s how, within the hour, you’re walking up towards your old house, it looking eerie and dark in your absence, the flowers you’d planted outside looked dry even after a few days without you here and it bubbled a new sense of loss inside you, like a part you hadn’t thought you’d lose - a mundane part that just added to the rest.
“Do you still have a key?” Rafe hisses from beside you as you both walk up the driveway.
“No, I left it at home,” You return, glancing up at him.
“What?” Rafe raises his brows, “We came all the way here and yo-“
“Kidding,” You smile, pulling the key from your pocket, “This is still my house too until he settles everything.”
Rafe grins, “I like the way you think (Y/L/N).”
You step up to the door and go to unlock it. Rafe steps forward, his hand wrapping around yours before you can move. He looks at you and presses the index finger of his other hand to his lips, guiding his hand around yours to turn the key in the lock. The door creaks when it opens and you both wince, letting it close slowly behind you.
“Damn, this is a nice place,” Rafe whispers, glancing around the downstairs rooms of the house.
You look at him and roll your eyes, “That makes me feel better.”
He laughs quietly and clasps his hands together, widening his eyes at the quiet noise that seems to echo around the house, “So where are we going?”
“I don’t know where it would be,” You shake your head, “Maybe the lounge?”
He outstretches a hand, “Lead the way.”
You take Rafe’s hand in yours as the two of you go towards the lounge. You bump into the couch as you step into the room and he stumbles behind you, hands flying to your waist to stop you from falling.
“We’re not exactly pros at this,” Rafe laughs, letting you balance yourself again as you stand up, your back pressing against his chest.
You glance down at yourself, a baggy hoodie over a pair of shorts, a pair of crocs on your feet, and him, a pair of slacks and a checkered shirt with a couple of buttons undone. He steps back from you and glances around the dark room, pulling out his phone and flicking on the flashlight. It casts a circle of light across the room as you start to look around, noticing the empty spots where photos of the two of you used to decorate the space. There are a few takeout boxes sprawled over the coffee table and a line of empty beer cans, one of them rolling along the floor when you step beside it.
“I can’t see anything,” Rafe hisses, flashing the light in your direction before you squint at the sight, blocking the brightness from your eyes, “Ooh sorry I-“
You both freeze then as a light flicks on upstairs, the hallway light.
“Who’s that?” Rafe mouths in your direction and you look at him like it’s the worst thing you’ve heard, watching the realisation sink onto his face just a second later.
Before either of you can say anything, there’s the sound of feet padding down the stairs, picking up their pace as they near you. Rafe takes a stride across the room, bumping shoulders with you as he comes to a stop.
“Who the f-“ James rounds the corner, “(Y/N)? What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I ju-“
“Rafe?” James interjects, “What? Did you hear (Y/N) was single and catch the next flight back?”
“Hey, no, that’s not what-“ You begin again.
“Fucking unbelievable,” James interrupts you again, “What are you doing in my house?”
“Cut it out, asshole. Stop interrupting her,” Rafe cuts in, and you can instantly sense his change in demeanour, the way he shifts on his feet, “And this is (Y/N)’s house too, you got that?”
James scoffs, folding his arms over his chest, “What? So you brought Rafe here to fight your battles?”
“No, no,” You blush at the discomfort, “I just needed some of my things. Well, no, not some, just one thing actually, it’s stupid, just a little thing… I just-“ You swallow the lump in your throat, “Seb. He wasn’t in the box of stuff.”
“What? That weird giraffe thing you brought everywhere,” James scoffs, “That’s really that important?”
“Um,” You laugh a little to relieve some of the awkward tension clenching your chest, “No, I guess it’s not important but we were just talking, well, we were looking through the box and we realised it wasn’t there and Rafe, um, Rafe said-“
“Rafe?” James scoffs, “You’re kidding, right?”
“Seriously, man, cut it out,” Rafe repeats, stepping forward just a little as if he’s protecting you, not enough to block you off but enough for you to know that he was there, “I don’t care if you don’t think it’s important, you’re done making her feel bad for things she cares about - do you understand that?”
James lets out a laugh that seems to echo around the room and scratch at your ears, sending an uncomfortable shiver up your spine, “How the hell do you know what she wants? What’s this? The first time you’ve been home in how many years?”
“Yeah, well, good timing I’d call it. Something about some asshole that didn’t realise how lucky he was,” Rafe cocks a brow.
“Rafe…” Your voice is quiet, as if you’re shrinking into the room but he looks back at you and nods just gently, reassuring you. And you’re surprised when it works, settling the fear in your heart.
“So what? You think you come back and know everything about her? Like you’re some sort of knight in shining armour?” James scoffs, “You don’t know jackshit about her, let alone our relationship.”
Rafe laughs and steps away from you, narrowing his eyes at James before letting out a slow breath, shaking his head as he walks the length of the room, “Oh you really are an asshole.”
James doesn’t say anything, watching as Rafe strides the room, a harsh air about him you were sure he hadn’t shown in years, perhaps since he’d last seen you.
“You’re dating a woman like (Y/N) for nine years. Nine years. Nine fucking years you had her there for you - picking up the phone when you’d call, letting you complain about your bad days, not thinking to mention it when your cooking was terrible, always always thinking of you before anything else. And what? That wasn’t good enough?”
“This is nothing to do with you Cameron,” James defends, shifting his stance.
“You hurt (Y/N),” Rafe steps forward until he is less than a foot from James, staring at him coldly, “That means it does have something to do with me. In fact, it has a hell of a lot to do with me.”
You’re watching the scene unfold as if it’s fiction, as if this is a cross between a dream and a nightmare that you were about to wake up from. This Rafe isn’t the same boy that he was with you, he’s never this cold with you. But with someone that had done you wrong? He was a completely different version of himself.
He’s close enough to James now that you’re practically counting down the seconds until he’ll swing a fist at him, it’s inevitable. But you shift in your spot and he glances back to look at you, his eyes softening when they meet with yours. His brows relax and the features of his face do with them, settling into himself a little. His lips smile a little against the tension in his jaw and he takes a deep breath in, turning back to James.
“I don’t know what you’re doing. I don’t know what you think you’re gaining from all of this. But we’re gonna go now,” Rafe’s words don’t shift from their blunt tone, each word feeling calculated and exact, “And you’re going to go to bed, in a house that’s not fully yours, in a bed you used to share. And you’re going to wake up the next morning and the morning after that and again and again, and every time you’ll be on your own. You might not realise it now, maybe not tomorrow or the day after, but you’ll realise it. You’ll realise that every single day you’re waking up without (Y/N) here, you’re missing the one damn thing that made your life worth it.”
He clenches his jaw again and watches as James swallows the lump in his throat, his eyes flicking to you.
“Oh, here it is,” Rafe reaches down to the couch and picks up the toy giraffe you’d been looking for, holding it in his hand, “Good seeing you, James.”
He hits your ex on his chest as if a friendly gesture but it knocks James back just enough for him to be reminded of his place. Rafe looks back at you and offers you the same smile as before, offering you your exit as you make your way over to him. He lets you step in front and places a hand to your back, guiding you out of the house, slamming the door behind the two of you. And for the first time since you’d left this house days ago, you feel alive.