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buzzcutdrew · 2 years

Text

Chances.

His eyes widen, like he's having a sudden realization and maybe she should be scared, especially when he drinks what's left of his drink in a whole sip. The glass against the counter produces a violent loud noise, but it doesn't break.

“Let's get married" it's all he says and she almost falls from her stool.

"Excuse me?"

Rafe Cameron x female!kook!OC, +28k.

Warning: mention to bullism, mention of drugs, violence.

Note: oh, well, where I should start with this one. Maybe I should say that this fic is a 45 pages os in my docs that I wrote without knowing what would have happened. Really. When I started it I just had the characters planned and their (past) relationships, but what became the center of the whole fic (and that is mentioned already at the end the first scene) came out absolutely randomly, out of nowhere, while I was drafting the introduction. I let it lead the rest of the whole one shot, contrary to what I usually do: I tend to have a big part of the plot in mind before starting everything, so with this one I found myself, more than once, not knowing what to do, how to continue and how exactly give it an end. This all to say that probably, reading it, it might seem incoherent or silly. Might be. Might not. But consider just another fic with an almost ooc Rafe, where I always wish someone could love him a bit. And, oh, English isn’t my main language so you could find some mistakes. I hope not bad ones.

Ao3.

Masterlist.

Richie has been second her whole life, at home, at school, in friendships, love, in every hobby she learned.

She plays the piano with a delicacy that makes every note, even the most aggressive, a caress without missing the right tone, but when she was fifteen and playing for a local theater a recruiter picked her companion for a national competition. Richie never stopped playing, but the other kid is now a professional pianist of the North Carolina Orchestra, while she plays just in her living room mostly for her own peace and at family's dinners.

Richie learned to paint and draw. Her mom helped her with creativity a lot, being a quite eccentric and appassionate artist, who made sure her younger daughter wouldn't miss the opportunity to create, but Richie never made much of her artistic path. Now she owns very expensive tools, but no one wants to play with them.

She has an older sister, Kat, who's about to finish college and who always had better grades, far more extrovert and friendly attitude, pupil of the school and of the family. Richie loves Kat and Kat loves Richie, so the rivalry hasn't ever been a problem to talk about: it's been something that the younger buried down, year after year, because loving her sister and being glad for her successes were everything that mattered. Even though it meant one of them had to wait in the shadows.

At school she was one of the best students of her class. Which meant she was good, really good, but had to share it with someone else: usually it was Matt Brum, her only real competitor, now enrolled in Yale and next to be the CEO of his family company. Theirs was an unhealthy competition, they learned to drag everything into the field to win their battles, sometimes hurting each other more than they would have liked to admit and that left them to lick the wounds on more than one occasion. The only time someone got it the middle was in sophomore year, when a new kid moved in the OBX and it mixed the cards at the table enough for Richie and Matt to lose their balance and stability. Just once the guy left the Academy, because he had to move out again and leave the islands for family reasons, they got back to their places. It has never been established who was the best student of their year, since they graduated with the same grades, so Richie never felt like she could be first for once.

Now, sitting on a stool at the counter of the fancy bar packed with people coming and going and music, she looks at her best friend dancing carelessly out of the room, down in the green garden of the Golf Club, all the eyes on her, and she reminds Richie of another occasion in which she has always been second. Love and all its declinations, from long crushes to brief flirts: Madeleine Patterson has alway been prettier, sexier, nicer in manners, effortlessly beautiful in and out and this all made her a natural confident girl turned into a glowing woman. Growing up, Richie changed, left classmates insults about her body behind, how she looked, how she acted, and opened up enough to gain her own confidence, but Madeleine was always a step ahead. And she didn't even try to. All eyes on her, everyone in love with her, whether it was a childish crush or pure lust. Richie saw so many boys and girls trying to conquer a little place in Madeleine's heart and just a very small group of them who actually made it. Richie always stood next to her, unnoticed, watching people flying around her best friend like they were butterflies attracted by the light.

The girl outside moves at the rhythm of the music, people in fancy dresses around her and Richie who's a little jealous of everything, everyone, especially people in her life that seem to be stars so bright to be hard to even stare at. Sitting on the stoll, a gin she isn't even supposed to drink in her hand, her stomach turns upside down and her jaw squeezes when she notices a tall boy walking in her view and stopping in the middle of the bar. Richie doesn't need to see Rafe Cameron's face to know how he's now looking at Madeleine: like she's the most beautiful woman in the world.

"I see, some things never change" she tells him and takes a sip of her drink in the same moment he turns, surprised, like he didn't expect anyone to be there. But it's room full of people, so Richie thinks it's kinda dumb.

He visibly relaxes when he notices it's her, Rachel Garner, sitting on a stool, pouring her soul in a gin, in her light brown hair falling down her shoulders. Rafe didn't see her there, but maybe not even for the rest of the night. Instead, she saw him and not because Midsummer is his family theater to make big dramatic entrances, but because she's a good observer, learned in the field for all the past years of quietness and standing in others shadows.

"It's you" he mutters and she can't help but feel a bit uneasy when his eyes scan her body up and down. Suddenly, she feels like her young self, the one that was scared to dress up differently than usual, scared of people's judgement. Somewhere in high school she tried to be bolder with her body, less frightened, but Rafe's eyes can be a lot mean and his words meaner and now she knows he's judging her. Richie doesn't even contemplate it could be a positive verdict, it can be only negative or absolutely indifferent by her whole presence. In the end, he moves his stare away from Richie's soft body, her peach satin dress suddenly not so tight around her sensible pale skin, and on his face nothing. He sits one stoll away from her and, with a movement of his hand, he calls one of the waiters to have the same Richie had.

They sit there in silence for a while and, she notices, Rafe's more nervous than she expected him to be at the frivolous party of Midsummer. Apparently, he dropped out of college by the end of the semester and she supposed he would have been back to the free life of a rich kid that has nothing to lose, everything to enjoy, but the frown of his face makes her dubious. When he looks again at Madeleine, dark curly hair bouncing on her shoulders as she dances, Richie decides to break the silence and do it like she's an elephant inside a crystal shop.

"She's out of your league" the girl tells him with a mocking voice, she won't sugarcoat what she thinks. Not to him. Actually, he should already be aware of what she's telling him: he always flirted with Madeleine, she always answered him things that meant he had to understand she wasn't up for flirting back. That she wasn't interested. The thing with Rafe, though, was that he never made a fool of himself declaring his love for Madeleine -or his attraction to her- like many did in the school hallways, but he has always been less explicit, flirting subtly when he got the chance in the middle of a conversation or a situation. He never went to Madeleine and asked her out, Richie has always been conflicted between thinking it was because he had too much consideration of himself to allow himself to show publicly his feelings -whatever kind, whether was love or physical attraction- for other human beings, or because he considered himself too high to being able to handle an open rejection like almost everyone else. The thought he might not be interested in her best friend like that never occurred to Richie. Now, she finishes her last bit of liquid from her glass and orders another with a thanks to the waiter, when he comes back with Rafe's one. "You know that"

"Yeah. I know" he mutters and reserves her a glance, now, eyebrow raised as his lips touch the glass to drink. When he swallows, Richie thinks he's gonna move his stare away -maybe back at Madeleine- instead he plants his blue uncomfortable eyes on her. Again, Richie feels like he's judging her. He's a prick who thinks to be better, smarter, more attractive than anyone, so maybe she should take it less personally. He does it with everyone a voice reminds her, because he was the stereotypical rich kid who thought that daddy's money and charming blue eyes gave him the right to turn into an awful person. A bully kid in the school hallways, a mean man who doesn't know anything close to love, because you'll receive what you gave. But he told you bad things growing up another voice talks in her mind and it sounds a lot like Rafe's when she heard him talking shit about her to her own birthday party in seventh grade. He told something about her weight and her pink dress and it hurt when she heard him by accident, as he shared his thoughts with some classmates. They laughed. All of them. But he was someone that talked to her back, she learned by hearing him when she wasn't supposed to and by rumors that came to her ears, because he couldn't afford to do it her face: he easily did with others, but Richie was the daughter a family friend and business partner, so Rafe knew that the moment he stepped on her foot where everyone could see and hear, he would have been in big trouble. So he did it at her back and limited the public interaction to childish bickering that didn't have much weight on their families relationship, mostly because Richie learned to spat, mock and fight back if it was necessary. She even learned to start a discussion with him, as a self defense mechanism, before he could. Like now: she could have stayed silent, waited for him to leave, or waited for him to turn and see her, giving him the first chance to start their little thing. But she could be proud and she wouldn't miss the opportunity to show Rafe that not everything can work for him, that he's not as perfect as he thinks to be. She didn't expect him to be so little up for some unhealthy fight. "You tell me every time you have the chance"

"That's what friends are made for" she says to him, forcing amusement from her voice. "Be honest when no one else will"

He snorts, hand squeezes around his glass. "We're not friends"

"Ouch" she mutters and then her empty glass is replaced by a new filled one, so she smiles at the waiter to thank him again. "You hurt me"

He shrugs, but he can't even guess how close those words are to reality. Richie drinks from her glass and Rafe does the same. "You'll be fine"

"Yeah. I heard worse" from you stays unsaid, but he hears the bitter tone anyway, badly hidden, so he turns to look at her when Richie's eyes move away. She looks to a vague point in front of her, hand around the drink, her round freckled face paint in hard features. She's clearly overthinking about something, but Rafe's not sure about what and frankly doesn't care. What he cares about, though, is to bug her as much as she likes to bug him.

"So" he starts, voice high in a way she can hear him drowning in her own mind. She turns, eyes wide and eyebrows lifted. "Heard about your sister. She was quite happy about sharing the news"

Richie's jaw squeezes and, if she hopes that Rafe doesn't notice, she's wrong. It was exactly the kind of expression he expected from her and she knows he likes it. When he can get through her, especially with the bare minimum. The fact is that Katherine Gardner, about to graduate in law with the highest grades, flew home less than four days prior with a huge squared diamond ring on her left hand and a very handsome guy she introduced as Michael, who apparently brought her that same ring she's now showing everyone. When Kat chose to study something that wasn't related to their family business of hotels and touristic properties, Richie thought that their parents -especially her dad- would have been at least a bit disappointed, that he would have eventually accepted it as the good man he is, but after a couple of attempts to convince Kat that she might have been head of their little family emperor. That path was already there for Kat and Richie, smooth and easy. But Noah Gardner was more accepting of Kat's decision than the younger kid would have expected, he asked once are you sure? when her sister dropped the news during her last year of high school and he has never shown any kind of sadness or disappointment about his perfect first born making different choices from what he always imagined for her. But when Kat came back a couple of days before with a guy she dated for apparently the past two months and the news she would have gotten married to him, Richie thought it was a crazy idea and that her parents would have opposed it the exact moment it was announced. But it hadn't happened and Richie went nuts.

"Yeah, you heard?" she asks and lifts an eyebrow, suddenly, for a moment, Rafe next to her feels less like the enemy. Maybe it's the alcohol she's been drinking from the start of the party. But glass after glass she still feels too lucid. "She met the guy two months ago around her campus and suddenly she knew he was his soulmate. What a bullshit"

Rafe looks at her with a furrowed expression, glass to his lips and a moment of contemplation before drinking a sip. Richie refrains the need to pour hers into one whole sip into her throat, but she's not sure she can the moment the liquor touches her tongue, so she keeps it solid on the counter. Rafe looks at her, for once, not like he's judging her, but like he's analyzing her and it makes Richie uneasy. It's like he's paying enough attention to actually considering her something he needs time to understand and process.

"You don't think it's bullshit" he declares in the end, his expression relaxes and hers turns surprised without even realizing. Her big blue eyes are so wide that Rafe would laugh at her, in another circumstance. Before she can spat anything, he keeps talking. "I think it's bullshit, you don't"

"You don't know shit"

"You think I don't know you?" when she mutters a yeah, he ignores her again. "Just because I don't like you and our parents tried to force a friendship down our throats, it doesn't mean I haven't learned to know you. And you don't think it's bullshit, maybe you just wanted to be in her shoes. Right? I mean, she always been full of people around her, praising her and now she's getting married, while you-"

"Can you shut up?" Richie asks, all sudden and her voice higher without her having any control over it. She knows this sounds a lot like an admission and she hates Rafe for this, but she hates him for a lot of other things too. When her eyes stay glued on him in a challenge to interrupt her again, making assumptions or telling that she just showed him a weakness, he seals his lips. His stare is hard. She whispers her next words, leaning a bit towards him, one stool dividing them. "What do you want for me? Uh? Make me feel like shit? You've been spending your whole life making sure of it, now leave me alone, because you know me, but I know you, Rafe. And we both know what's the relationship between you and your family, don't let me spat it in your face. Or use it against you publicly"

This hits him. It's not even the honest truth, it's the threat to expose it to him or everyone else that both scares and makes him angry. The Cameron, one of the most prominent families of the OBX, are everything that Richie is glad to not be born in.

She knows that she doesn't have the easiest relationship with her own parents and sister, but she also knows that they love her and when they tell her that, they meant it. They don't love her how she hoped for, but when Richie looks at Kat, she sees a lovely sister that would do everything for her little one, but also someone that she feels the need to be in competition with. When Kat backed out from the family business, Richie already knew she would have joined the company and lead it after his dad would have left it to his heirs, but seeing her big sister leaving for doing something else felt like Richie finally had a way to prove herself. To be better than Kat in something? Maybe. To have an unhealthy competition with her sister? No, but if one day her dad and mom would say she made sure that their emperor didn't fall, managing it on her own, her heart would just burst in joy and pride. After all the fatigue of making something good without sharing the spotlight with someone else, or -worse- while hiding in another person's shadow, she will finally feel like she could be realized. Though, looking at Rafe, she knows she's the lucky one: at the end of the day, she can say her parents take care of her and love her, in their own way, with their own weird way to show her, while he really can't say the same thing. Probably, he wouldn't ever admit it, but Richie has been around the Camerons enough to know that Rafe doesn't have anyone to tell him they love him, kiss him goodnight, or leave him leftovers when he comes home late even though they are a lot similar to being someone's shadow. Someone's second.

Ward Cameron is a man of sweet smiles and a lot of gentle words, but Richie knows the truth, that he shows the worst of himself when he's out of the public eye. The first time she heard him talking to Rafe privately, hard words for something his son did and an anger that was barely under control, she suddenly explained herself why Rafe was such an insufferable human being. Not a justification, but a valid explanation. That time, a younger Richie learned to observe the interactions of the family with other eyes, ones that would notice Rafe flinching to his dad getting closer too suddenly, or to his little sister, Wheezie, having to fight for people to listen to her.

Rose Cameron is Ward Cameron's younger wife, after the first one died a long time ago, but she's definitely not the kids mom: she made sure everyone remembered it since she made her debut as a family member and Rafe and his sisters can't now really forget it. She's not the evil stepmother, but Richie isn't sure she knows how to care about anything that hasn't to do with her.

Sarah and Wheezie and nice girls, to Richie's opinion, even though they are both younger and now they sporadically see each other at fancy nights of the OBX élite and family dinners. Sarah can be found at less pretentious parties sometimes, being just three years younger, but Wheezie is still too young for her and Richie to cross paths when their families aren't involved. Rafe loves Wheezie, he probably never told it to himself and won't ever do such a thing, but he doesn't need to speak it aloud: the way Wheezie looks at him like he's a good brother, the same way Sarah is a good sister, like she doesn't care that he can be rough, a lot moody, a real prick. When Richie thinks that maybe Wheezie knows half of what Rafe is capable of doing and saying, she thinks good for her and she won't be the one to break the little girl's bubble in which her relationship with her brother is based on real affection. Rafe loves Wheezie and Wheezie loves Rafe, Richie would feel like a monster to break something like that for a thirteen year old and for an awful boy who clearly doesn't know much love.

The relationship with Sarah, on the other hand, drives Rafe mad and it's all Ward's fault since he never applied the same rules to all his kids: from a close spot, it always seemed like he had a different way to parenting each of his kid and, if the Gardners probably thinks they applied the same rules and shared the same amount of love to both their daughters, Ward made sure the differences between the three Camerons were easy to notice by everyone. Wheezie is the little child that is too young to be taken seriously and that is most of the time ignored, while Rafe is the older one with a difficult personality, that has been allowed to act in a certain way until his dad pretended he grew up and acted completely differently. But you can't plant a flower and pretend it will blossom healthy, if you don't take care of it just because it seems difficult and slow. Inside the Cameron dynamic, Sarah is the prettiest, the brightest and the most colorful flower, the one that grows so fast and healthy during spring time that you can't help but stare at it in joy. She has a cheerful attitude and good heart, she's a person that likes other people and that other people like. She's Rafe's exact opposite and Ward never helped them to overcome their differences, he showed nothing but a blind preference for Sarah and it had a massive impact on Rafe's behavior, when his dad was so inclined to show it in his face. He never was an enjoyable and pleasant kid to be with, always sure of his privileged position, but his dad made it worse. The more Rafe looked for love in a place that wasn't willing to give it to him, the more he grew frustrated and angry.

Almost twenty years spent with the Camerons, Richie knows it all and, now, she quietly tells Rafe that she knows how unsteady his family is, that she's conscious of the facade of the perfect family his own is. In front of her, he simply stares at her blankly for the first couple of instant, until, at least, his expression changes. His eyes widen, like he's having a sudden realization and maybe she should be scared, especially when he drinks what's left of his drink in a whole sip. The glass against the counter produces a violent loud noise, but it doesn't break.

"Let's get married" it's all he says and she almost falls from her stool.

"Excuse me?"

After Midsummer, Richie needs two days to recover from the alcohol and from her weird encounter with Rafe.

The first day her head sounds like a drum playing non stop and she must look so awful and tired that after just one attempt from Kat to make her leave her bed, her sister doesn't try anymore. Her mom comes by a couple of times to check on her and her dad gives her the free day at work. By the end of her day, she gives herself another twenty four hours, whether her family agrees or not, on seeing her lying almost lifeless on the mattress in her room, standing just to go to the bathroom and opening her mouth to eat what Anthony, the butler, bought for her mom's wish.

The third day, she gets up from the bed, she showers for the longest minutes with water so hot that the freckles on her skin almost disappear under the redness of the temperature and then puts on her prettiest clothes for work, before heading in the kitchen for breakfast and spreading forced smiles. Kat is the first to embrace her when she makes her apparition and she tells Richie that she's happy to see her doing better with such apprehension that the younger one's stomach turns upside down.

"Sit next to Michael" she tells, after Richie stands in the kitchen almost out of place. Her stomach protests again, when she takes a seat next to the man (who’s actually sitting in her usual place), who smiles at her and asks how she's doing today. Her answer comes out almost whispered, but she can't help but look at Michael and see Rafe.

Let's get married.

It needs her all the strength she possesses to focus on the food and on making small talk, the ones able to assure the people around the table that she's fine, so she tells herself all the physical differences between Michael and Rafe in a way she can't see one and think about the other. Then she explains to her dad what she's gonna do at work and he simply nods.

Sitting in her car, alone, after breakfast feels like all the thoughts she tried to hold back or change implodes and the need to have a little cathartic cry, dressed in nice work clothes, comes to her mind more than once. But then Kat and Michael come out from the house hand in hand, ready to have a walk around the OBX and show the foreign boy the place, so Richie pulls out of the parking lot and speeds to work. If she drives, she won't think about anything, she's sure of it, but it's a failing plan and she understands it when she bursts into tears two streets down her house, as she waits for the light to turn green.

Making it at work in one piece is almost like winning at life, but the feeling is very temporary and weak: what’s really lead her sane for half of the day is that she has so much work to do around, things to check out and inside the office she has been assigned to since she stepped in as her dad’s right hand, that she gets distracted from her mind and all her thoughts.

Every step she takes feels like she's about to stumble and make a fool of herself, but she pretends to know what she’s doing and makes it with well built confidence, at least until lunch.

She’s trying to think about anything but the hotel financials she’s currently revisiting -the ones she discussed with her dad and their team of managers when they met a couple of days before Midsummer, coming from all their five star resorts spread around North Carolina- when the door of her office swings open. The sound breaks her just found balance and the revelation of the person pushes her back into a chaos of feelings. The most common, the one where she would bend over the floor and throw up. Rafe, the only person she didn’t really want to cross her path with, walks in, dressed in jeans and a pastel polo, dark blonde hair brought back and step so sure and bold that, Eve, a small middle aged receptionist has some difficulty to catch up with. She appears behind Rafe's tall body a moment later, when he's already about to sit in one of the chairs usually reserved for guests and clients, on the other side of where Richie sits at her desk. She stares at him like he’s the devil and, from his grin, she’s sure he knows it and enjoys every second of it.

"After three days you came back to life" Rafe announces himself loudly, stepping more and more towards Richie and her belongings. She feels protective of her space, but she refrains herself from showing him anything that he could perceive as a weakness and doesn't ask how he knows she has been home for the past few days. He finally falls on one of the chairs, making his staying real and more permanent than Richie had hoped for. "Sounds like an already heard story"

The owner of the office moves her eyes from Rafe to Eve then, when her employer starts apologizing.

"I tried to stop Mr. Cameron, telling him that I should have come first to make sure you were free to receive him" the woman is telling, like she really has a reason to apologize, when they are talking about Rafe Cameron and his rude spoiled manners. "But he walked past me and I tried-"

"It's fine" Richie assures from her chair, smiling at the woman, but feeling like she’s telling that to herself. Eve seems taken aback for a second, just once, before she relaxes and nods, once she gives Rafe a look. Then she leaves and the false relaxed expression on Richie falls the moment the door closes at the boy’s back. “Don’t do that ever again. Next time, you stop by the reception and ask if you can come in” a pause, when Rafe’s smile grows. “Actually, don’t come here ever again. I don’t want to see you”

He sighs, but he’s amused. “Well, now I’m already here, so”

“Yeah, I can see that and I don’t like it” she says resignedly: she knows what he wants, but she finds herself asking her next words anyway. She leans on the back of her chair, as he has already done that the moment he ungraciously fell on his own seat. “Why are you here, Rafe”

“You know why I’m here” he tells her, suddenly the smile falls and she knows what to expect. Or not completely, because Rafe Cameron pulling a jewelry box from the pocket of his trousers and leaving it on Richie's desk, above all the spread papers, wasn’t in her mind at all. In her eyes panic, when she stares at it and then back at Rafe. “You didn't really give me an answer”

“I’m sure I did”

“Keep repeating to repeat myself, before running away, isn’t exactly what I would describe as answering” he makes her notice, but he sees how she keeps glancing at the box: like it’s the scariest thing she has ever seen, but he didn't exactly expect her to jump in joy. He nods to it. “Open it”

She looks up, eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not sure I want to. That’s a really crazy idea”

Listen, I know you don’t like me and I don’t like you, but getting married can be a good deal for us, he had said to her at Midsummer, an expression a lot similar to the one painted on her face at the moment. We get married and we settle for a bit, we both will get our families off our backs: my dad will stop bothering me with growing up and all that shit and yours maybe will stop thinking your sister is better than you. Don't make that face, I know you thought that stepping into business would have made you more likely to be your parents favorite, but now it's time to accept that you're not. And I'm not either. We want to be, right? We’re twenty and two of the wealthiest families of the OBX, so we can try. It’s convenient for me, as much as it is for you.

After that, she wanted to tell him that her parents don't have a favorite and that she doesn't think Kat is better than her, but she would have lied, so she asked him to explain himself again.

“Is it that crazy?” he asks now, playing it dumb, but Richie knows Rafe, he’s not the brightest, but dumb either. He’s just good at pretending, so people underestimate him, until he can prove to them he's sneaky and petty. ”Your sister is getting married to a guy she barely knows, your parents approve and you don't know what bothers you more between the two, it’s written all over your face. But if you think about what I told you, we know each other since we were kids, I mean, it should be less suspicious if we’re the ones getting married”

“You’re forgetting the part where we never got along” Richie reminds him, still confused and surprised by the whole situation. She would like to be somewhere else with someone else: it’s now that she thinks to Madeleine, how she would react to know what Rafe asked her and to watch them now, discussing a marriage proposal in her office like it's a scene of The Proposal. It’s the thought of her that makes Richie ask her next question. “Why me”

He shrugs and looks out the window of the room, the glass door that leads to the balcony, right into the ocean. Richie prefers the marsh that runs along with the tiny piece of land that the island is, because the water is less scary and deep, it’s more familiar than the open unknown ocean. For a moment, though, Rafe stares at it and Richie thinks he might be lost. Eventually, after a whole moment, he answers. “I told you, it’s convenient”

“It is?” she asks. “Weren't there other convenient options on the market? Other people more suitable than me? People that like you? People that you like? And not just personally speaking, also-” a pause as she thinks about all the time he told bad things about her, her body, the way she looked. "Physically"

He laughs quietly, but it’s nervous and it makes Richie more nervous than she already is by reflex. “It’s not like I was planning on getting married and made a list of all the suitable options. You were there, drinking your anger for your sister-”

“I wasn’t”

“And I was angry at my dad” he continues, ignoring her interruption. He still doesn’t look at her. “It was a sudden thought given by the circumstance”

“Romantic” Richie comments, almost offended by the way he easily spills the truth. But it’s a stupid reaction, she knows that, because it’s not like she thought he might be interested in her and, honesly, she doesn’t want him to. What she asks next needs a lot of courage to share it aloud though. “Aren't-aren't you afraid of what people will say?"

He gives her a side glance, but he quickly returns to stare out of the window, which starts to give on her nerves. She is conscious he knows what she's referring to, but she's not really surprised when he asks: "Afraid that they might tell that we ended up married after hating each other? No. We'll be the gossip of the island for a while, until they'll skip to the next one"

"It scares me the way you thought about this" Richie admits and her voice stays quiet, almost whispering, while her mind spins all those things that Rafe is telling her. She pushes her hair back, behind her ears, and she's glad he's turned when she sees how her hands shake. "But I was talking about people talking about you marry someone like me? Someone that looks like me. People will talk shit"

"What do you look like?" he asks her, finally looking Richie’s way and bearing her stare. She’s incapable of understanding if he’s serious, at this point, or he’s mocking her. Wouldn't be the first time, but this is a twisted way and it gets her angry.

"Don't treat me like you didn't bully me for my body-" he tries to interrupt, but she shuts him. "Don't. You spent your whole life making mine miserable. Just because you didn't tell things to my face didn't mean I didn't find a way to know"

"I was a kid-"

"You're still a kid, you probably still goes around talking shit about me when I can't hear-"

"I don't" he protests, but it's weak.

"And the fact that you want to marry someone just to get your dad off your back proves it" she keeps telling him with rash and impetuous, angry from all the things he made and said to her. "Don't you want to marry someone that you love and someone that loves you, Rafe?"

She sounds hysterical, she knows that, but both of them know it's her right to be. He wasn't the nicest guy to her, he was like that with everyone actually, but he can do better. Or he thinks he can, so he leans forward, reaches for the box on the desk and opens it. He shows her a beautiful ring, a small group of diamonds shining even under the natural light coming from outside, like a quiet promise to actually try to be a decent person. They can be a team and he can do his part: he's not sure she gets that when he pushes the ring a bit towards her, but if she's gonna say yes, he'll learn to keep his mouth shut.

She just asked if he wants to marry someone that will love him, but he's not sure, at this point, that someone able to do such a thing exists and he's scared of a couple of things, not being loved is on top of the list. Richie doesn't need to hear this coming from him, but he suspects she might guess it.

"No, I don't care about that" he lies and her eyebrows furrow, her lips pressed into a tiny line. "But the moment you call it quit, the moment there's someone else, I'll back out-"

"You're talking about this like-" a pause and this should suggest to him she might tell him no. It would be fair, but the fact that she didn't refuse straight away keeps him on the edge. "Like it's nothing. Like it's something you can easily get rid of. It's not, Rafe. Some of us gives it a value and buy a ring won't make someone that believes in marriage change their mind about it"

"It was my mom's" he says and when she stares at him with a perplexed expression, he nods to the ring. "I didn't buy it. It was my mom's. My dad give it to me in case, you know, I would have found someone wanting to spend the rest of their live with me and-"

"No" she interrupts and shakes her head when he looks at her like she stabbed him. It's a moment, but she sees it the instant he fully realizes she just rejected him. She never saw him so unprepared about anything, but she won't let it get under her skin: he deserves it, he deserves that things don't always go how he wants to and that he won't be able to be the cold heartless himself forever. "I'm not gonna marry you. I like to think there's someone that really wants to marry me, someone that loves and that respects me fully. And you don't, Rafe, I can't just forget you made my life hard. You and the people like you helped me with my confidence, growing up, but it wasn't fair. You hurt me and me marrying you and forget about it is not something I'm willing to do" a pause, both of them swallow. "I shouldn't even say this, because I don't think you deserve it, but I still hope you'll find someone that loves you too and that you'll be glad to propose with your mom's wedding ring. Maybe it will help you to become a better person. But we know we're not a match. So my answer is no"

Silence fills the room for a brief moment, really short, but heavy with a tension that Richie is a bit scared to turn into something else. Rafe's face is a stone all the time, he blinks a couple of times as his eyes are steady in hers, but he doesn't say anything and Richie waits. Then, he purses his lips and with a deep sigh, pushes his hair back.

"Fine" he mutters and slowly reaches for the little box, looking at it between his fingers like he's studying the weight of the object. He puts it back on the pocket of his jeans, but when Richie thinks he's gonna stand and leave like nothing happened, he stays still. "No is no. Not gonna ask again"

Richie's heart almost jumps out of her chest. "Thanks"

He nods and finally, expression blank, he stands. Turns once towards the door and then back towards the girl, who's quietly observing him and is pretending she's doing fine, while inside she feels like she needs to cry. Again. Richie cries a lot, but usually she doesn't do that in front of other people, especially the ones that could see it as a weakness and use it against her. Rafe is on top of the list. "Don't tell anyone"

The request, not a question but an order, makes her smile. Not of happiness, but of something that it's more familiar with Rafe: it's a grin that silently is mocking him. "Why shouldn't I"

"No one is gonna believe you, anyway" he says, eyebrows furrowed and gears that are working hard to figure out if she's messing with him or not. He pats the pocket of his jeans and she knows he's referring to the ring, when he talks again. "No proof. Your word against mine. And considering our history, you'll probably make a fool of yourself"

Richie narrows her eyes. "You're a snake"

Rafe laughs and, finally, the tension leaves the room like the air inside an open balloon, when you let it go. It's a relief. "Hey, see you at your sister's engagement party. Don't know about you, but I'm sure it will be fun"

The wish to throw something to him is hard to resist, but when he leaves, Richie thinks she wouldn't have wanted to be in the same room a moment longer.

"Have you ever thought about marriage?" the question comes out casually, almost distractly, but it isn't anything like that. Richie asks on purpose, pretending nonchalance, while she sees Madeleine stop her hand, fries between the fingers, in her tracks. The other girl doesn't really look at her best friend straight away, she can tell what she's doing from having her sitting in her general sight, so she takes a moment before looking up. Straight into Madeline's dark eyes, staring back at her with a confused expression.

"What?" she asks in the end, finally throwing the fries into her mouth. She chews it and, for a moment, Richie looks at her full lip covered in a matte brown lipstick moving graciously. "Where this comes from"

Rafe Cameron, it's Richie's first thought and the honest answer, but she knows she can't say that without Madeleine thinking she's getting crazy. She has no reason to talk about Rafe and no reason to talk to Rafe, which actually happened quite privately the day before, but even if Madeleine would believe what happened, she would probably be very confused and very upset about it. Like she would fairly be if Richie would have agreed to Rafe's crazy plan of getting married out of convenience.

"Kat's wedding" Richie tells Madeleine and it's not a complete lie. It's just a partial truth. "It's making me think, that's all"

"It shouldn't" her best friend pushes her curly hair behind her shoulder when they fall around her face, but she's careful not to touch her locks with her hands dirty of salt and fried oil. Richie blinks at her, when the other leans on the table of the diner they are sitting during their lunch break. Technically it's just Richie's, because Madeleine is a student on holiday until lessons will start again in September and she will have to fly back to New York, where she's studying fashion management in a very expensive college. "Don't let this whole wedding get you. I know you and I know what you're thinking"

"What am I thinking?" Richie asks, taking a sip from her Cola Zero and then getting back to her vegan hamburger. Madeleine thinks that making meat vegan it's a living paradox for terminology and a heresy for her poor omnivore heart, but Richie quit meat years ago and there's just one place in the whole OBX that serves vegan meat. The place isn't the fanciest, but it's not cheap either, it looks like a diner of old times and it's in a strategic place in Figure Eight almost on the road down The Cut. Plates can be expensive for the Pogues, the ones less lucky living in the poor side of the island, but sometimes kids from The Cut come by to have a bite anyway. Richie doesn't mind them, some are criminals and some are working hard people, same as the ones from Figure Eight. The only difference is that who lives on the rich side of OBX never pay for their crimes and does pretty much clean jobs behind a desk, while the poors are usually the first to end up in jail when they are into bad business and the honest ones wake up every day to break they back under all the work.

"You're thinking that now that your sister is getting married, you're the next. Because you have to" Madeleine underline, distracting Richie from her thoughts. "You don't have to"

"All my relatives to Kat's engagement party will disagree with you" the girl scoffs at her own words. "Actually, my parents will disagree with you"

"They won't" Madeline says, because she's on the Gardners defense squad: she loves Richie's parents and their own child never quite got why. Sure they were always polite and friendly, welcomed Madeleine like she was family and she always liked the freedom she felt around them, but Richie thinks it's not a valid reason to worship the ground they walk in. Maybe it's because Madeleine's dad is a real asshole.

"They'll be subtle about it, but they will" Richie tells her friends. "They'll find a way to make it sound like they are telling me something nice and at the same time meaning the exact opposite"

"Still" Madeleine says, moving her hand distractedly. "Not an excuse to get paranoid, girl. You're not the next in line. You have all your life in front of you. Just because you sister decide to marry a guy doesn't mean you have to"

The truth is that, before Kat and Rafe, she never thought about marriage. Not like something concrete, at least, something so real that is scary to think about. The thought of spending her life with someone forever never occurred to her until recently, usually it has always been something that everyone gives for granted, whether it's their own or someone else's life. Society says marriage is a step that, at some point, almost everyone will take and kids are brainwashed about it without even realizing, parents would say when you get married you'll understand it in the middle of a conversation and no one would give it the right weight. Now, Richie always considered it mandatory because normal, that she would have eventually married someone and settle for a future together, but the current situation is pushing her boundaries and putting her under a certain pressure. The future planned for her, like it's for everyone else, is suddenly so concrete to not sound remote and hypothetical, but so close to feel like it's an imminent present.

Probably it's just Richie's anxiety and paranoia that easily turn her into a people pleaser, someone that does things to see others happy in a way she can be it herself. She's an addict that craves others' respect and pride so she can feel at peace with herself, even though it's self sabotaging like every drug.

Richie mutters an "Hum, hum" and Madeleine pretends to not notice her friend is somewhere else with her mind for the rest of the lunch.

If Richie would be a bad sister, she would have let her dad order the manager of one of their three resorts on the OBX to handle Kat and Michael's engagement party and she would have just shown up for the food, the alcohol and her sister's happy smile to her future husband. But Richie is a good sister and took care of everything until the last moment and, maybe it was also because she could keep herself busy physically and mentally, even during the night.

She took care of the flowers, the food and its timing, Michael's parents who came that same morning and now are staying in one of the most expensive suits of the building, she also took care of the DJ, who had been more interested in the music than alcohol. In the end, she didn't really blame him for looking for a refill of wine, because she picked and ordered one of the best wines directly from Italy and champagne from south France and, more than once, she found herself asking for more from the waiters. It's just that, at some point, she starts not caring about the DJ, or the fact that one of the catering guys told that salmon tarts are over, because the more she talks to people, the more she keeps drinking. She always bragged about being able to handle alcohol pretty well, but now, sitting on the counter of the bar of one of the luxurious five star resorts she owns, she wishes to be so drunk to not recognize faces, words, not feeling anything. But she's still pretty damn lucid when, after hours and the sky painted in darker color, her grandmother from dad's side approaches. Her name is Margaret and she's an old, venomous lady with really too much to say: Richie's dad says he took everything from his own dad, a far more quiet and nicer man that the two children never have been able to meet, because he died when Kat wasn't born yet. He also asked divorced from the woman now cornering Richie and she really never wondered why.

"Grandma" the younger girl says as a greeting, drinking from another glass of champagne, when the woman orders one for herself and gives her niece a look from head to toe. Richie tries to not flinch.

"What did you put on?" the other says, as a glass is served and the waiter disappears, after just one glance to his young boss. Richie would like to follow him and serve rich people instead of listening to them, but she's not that lucky so she looks at her dress and wonders what Margaret has to say about what she's wearing. "This color is terrible. It Looks like vomit. Who chose it for you?"

"I chose it, actually. I liked it" Richie sighs and, nervously, she keeps glancing at her grandmother's back, hoping to see anyone that might help her escape her unrequited sincerity and rudeness. She looks for any of her parents, who know Margaret well enough to plan a rescue for Richie without the girl asking for it, or even Kat, who sometimes has been a victim of their grandmother as well, but no one of them is somewhere to be seen. When she looks for Madeleine, maybe, or anyone else that would come and save her, Richie actually spots Kat: she sees pretty much just her adorned head, her brow hair tied with little gems, while she's too far away and too busy kissing Michael to pay her little sister attention. Once Richie gets back to Margaret, white hair falling on her back like waves, and she knows her grandma noticed her giving her sister and boyfriend a look a moment too long.

"I see" the woman says and the girl frowns, as her hand squeezes around the glass unvolutary.

"You see what" Richie prompts, while she already knows what's about to come from the other mouth. The amount of you're the next or you'll find someone too said with too bright smiles from the guests at the party haven't been as much as Richie expected, actually, they've been not more than a few, mostly from her parents' adult friends. Maybe Richie kept herself very busy, hands and feet always in movement so her mind could run along, but the night has been almost bearable, ignoring the amount of pda from Kat and Michael. But it was her problem to solve, not theirs, so she smiled and asked them if they were enjoying the night. Her future brother in law told her she did amazing with the party and Kat hugged her to thank Richie for everything, which helped the younger one to fill her heart with the right amount of pride to bear the fact they seemed glued to each other.

"I see that your dress matches your mood, honey" Margaret says and smiles, and Richie's eyebrows lift suddenly in a surprised expression. It's not she didn't expect her grandma to say something mean, it's just that she didn't expect anything so explicit. "Don't be jealous. I know you're not as pretty as her, everyone looks at her, I get it, but you'll find someone eventually"

Richie knows she's not as pretty as Kat. Her sister is small, pale like milk and light as a feather whatever she does, her hair is the straightest she has ever seen and she's one of those people who posts photos with the hashtag no makeup and looks relaxed like they are coming out from a retouched Vogue cover. Richie, on the other hand, is her sister's opposite: as a kid she was always taller than the others, her body softer than most of the girls of Figure Eight and her skin covered in freckles like painting strokes. She hated her body for so long that, at some point, she forced herself to embrace it, because life is too short to waste it about the size of the jeans instead of her own health. Now, there are days she likes her body, she's confident about it, some others she still looks at the mirror and makes a list of all the things she would like to change. Though, hearing people saying those kinds of words has a certain power over her mind and just because she expected her grandma to be a snake doesn't mean it doesn't hurt anyway.

Her way out of this awful conversation isn't exactly a healthy way to do so, but it's the only one that walks literally next to her and that, after drinking her champagne in a single sip, Richie grabs. That literally too, when she notices Rafe's broad shoulders are walking away in a blue suit and she stretches her body, until she can grab his hand and link their fingers. He turns abruptly, as Richie holds his hand better and she's surprised to find his skin warm, so she smiles when his eyebrows shoot up. He glances between Richie, her hand in his and her grandma that he unfortunately had the chance to meet a long time ago, but he's almost subtly about it and doesn't ask the girl to let him go, so Richie guesses he must have an idea about what's going on from the scene in front of him. They never touched publicly, even less hold hands, but after their last encounter there aren't many reasons why Richie should feel the need to push herself so further, especially with her mean grandma there. So he moves next to her, trying to not squeeze back her hand in his and waits for her to explain what's going on.

"He's Rafe. Do you remember Rafe?" Richie asks, palm against palm, she's the one squeezing him like her life depends on it and it shakes him. He doesn't like the feeling, he would prefer to let her go, but he resists. "He's-"

"He's the kid that tried to kill my Pudding" Margaret scoffs, remembering that time Rafe pushed her the woman's dog into the Gardners' pool. Kat saved it by jumping into the water, while Ward scolded his son who said it was an accident. No one believed him.

"Yeah, that's him" Richie confirms and Rafe would laugh off her annoyance, the condescending tone she's using, like she's dealing with a brat. Usually it's the same one she uses with him, but now it's just for her grandma and he can understand why. That woman is a pain in the ass, always been. "And you know what else he is?" the girl keeps asking and there's a moment of silence, a pause, that Rafe isn't sure it's a way to give the woman the time to guess and answer. It's a moment of uncertainty for what Richie is gonna say and what he has an idea of, making him sweating more than he would like to admit. Are they gonna do it? Is she gonna do it? Both their stomachs protest and a thought says no, don't, but eventually Margaret looks to their linked hands and Richie feels suddenly brave. "He's my fiancé"

"Excuse me" it's ask without really making it sound like a question and there's a short and fastly cut mocking laugh from the older woman that makes Richie's hands squeeze around Rafe's one more and her finished glass of champagne. He would wonder if she's gonna break it, but now he's too busy ignoring the ground shaking under his feet, while he thinks she shouldn't have talked about it with him first. Rafe hates not being the one in charge, the one deciding, but when he notices the women looking for Richie's hand with a suspicious stare, he's suddenly brought back to reality.

He talks without processing it, the first lie that comes to his mind and he's really good at lying. "Don't look for a ring. It was my mom's, so we had to ask for some adjustments. You'll see soon on Richie's finger, if it will make you believe us"

His words make Richie take a deep breath of relief, while her grandma stays silent and probably would say something about the size of Richie's fingers and hands if Rafe wouldn't be there to witness and clearly already on the defensive.

"Well" the woman comments under her breath. "Congratulations then"

"Well, thank you then" the older one waves her hand dismissively and, without a word, she leaves through the bodies like she's flying away. As soon as she's out of reach, Richie's hand leaves Rafe's one and she needs a whole moment to realize completely what happened. What she just did. Rafe's face as she turns tells her he has metabolized it yet and he doesn't seem pleased with her choice.

"Don't look at me like that" she hisses, but her voice cracks in the end. His eyes are so deep, that Richie has to move her stare away. "It's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Two days ago" Rafe spats back, leaning now towards her, but the girl's spine stays straight and her chin lifts. It's not challenging, it's a quiet I'm not scared and he knows she's not. Not now. "You can't decide for both of us. You told me no, so you should have come to me and tell me you changed your mind after your annoying grandma tormented you. Then, we would have decided to do that. Together"

"Well, it's not like I had much time to think about it" she tries to defend herself, but she knows he's right: it was selfless of her, but a voice in her head tells her to not let Rafe intimidate her, not let him make her feel guilty for being selfish when he's the most selfish person she knows. But she can't help feeling her stomach protests, which is what makes her blurt her next words. "I'm sorry, okay? I am, really"

Rafe sighs and shakes his head dismissively, but he's still nervous when he gives a look around and he talk. "She's probably already telling someone. So we're in it, no regret, Richie, I swear-"

Is she really gonna do that? Marry the only person she shouldn't marry? Rafe's voice mocking through the years taunts her for a moment, but she shuts it down with force as she reminds herself that it's a deal out of convenience and she can survive that. "We're screwed"

"No, we're not" he gives another look around and seems like he expects anyone to appear out of nowhere, which pushes Richie further to a state of anxiety and paranoia, as she follows his example and gives a look around as well. Rafe calls her back to him with a steady voice. "Don't look. Look at me and listen carefully" with a ton of bravery, for once she doesn't question his need to be authoritative, so she nods trusting the fact that he seems to know what to do. "We knew each other already, so it won't be too weird, except we were the furthest thing from being friends. But I have a story about that, okay? We were at the same Christmas party a couple of months ago, which isn't a lie because we really where, we talked there, we saw each other again at New Year Eve and then we started texting after that"

"You're forgetting the part where you were getting high at those same parties" she interrupts and his jaw squeezes, as he realizes she probably saw him snorting coke from a coffee table in a mutual classmate's living room. Rafe hasn't ever been subtle about hiding his use of drugs at parties, but now he doesn't like to hear her witness it and calling him out for it. Sometimes, he wonders what people think of him when they see him snort coke. Do they ask themselves why he does so? Or they just think he's using it because he can. "Actually, I'm surprised you even remember we were at the same parties"

"That's not the point" he says, hard voice. "The point is that we're gonna say we met there again, started texting and hanging every time I came back for the holidays. Dropped out of college, we kept hanging until I proposed two days ago"

Richie thinks his story can be a solid one, one that would work for other two people with a different history, but she has trouble seeing her and Rafe fit into his description. Going from what she would describe as enemies to engaged in six months of basically a long distance relationship seems forced. "I'm not sure this story is gonna work"

"Well, do you have a better one?" he asks and she bite her lip instead of answering, because the more she thinks about an alternative, the more his own seems the only option. He grins. There's nothing friendly about it. "I thought so. Let's make this work because it's the only one we have"

"Did you have this all planned when you asked me?"

He moves his head to the side and looks at her, when Richie's eyes find him with courage. "Not the first time. The second yes. I had to convince you, if you looked like you could actually tell me yes"

"I didn't" she tells him with a whisper. I choose it now.

"You weren't hundred percent sure, but I didn't have the time to show you my plan, because you told me no when I told you the ring was my mom's" his voice turns lower, when he mentions his deceased mother. Richie doesn't remember her well, as she was really young when she died and she doesn't have many memories in her mind about that brief time in which the Camerons mother was still alive. Before Rose comes into the picture and Richie remembers her wedding with Ward, her excessive dress, one of those that reminds of a Disney princesses. It looked painful to carry around, but Rose didn't seem to care.

"You sure you don't mind me having your mom's ring?" Richie asks then, knowing it's probably something that Rafe gives value to. She tries to think that he wouldn't have proposed with it to her, if he would have minded her using it, but she still thinks he must feel something. Richie watches him open his mouth and close to give her an answer that apparently doesn't want to come out easily, when his eyes move to something to her back and he sighs.

"They are coming" he tells her with a grave voice and she doesn't have to ask who they are. "And from the looks on their faces, they know"

"Shit" it's all that Richie mutters under her breath as she turns in time to see both the couple's parents coming their way. Everyone looks confused, Ward and Rose are even whispering between each other with frowning faces, while the only smiling is Grace Gardner, who's opening her arms even before she's properly in her daughter's personal space. Once in front of Richie, she embraces the younger girl with all her strength.

"That's beautiful, honey" she says right before Rose mutters an curious and surprised "Is this real, Rafe?".

"Yeah" the boy answers flatly and when Grace lets go of Richie, she almost stumbles backward. Rafe catches her by her shoulders and she feels weird to have all their parents eyes on them like they are starving of acts like that to, maybe, prove something about their relationship. Rafe lets go of Richie, but the closeness gets bigger as they stand there, under scrutiny. Feels like Richie's bigger nightmare? As she analyzes it, she's surprised to think she expected it to be much worse: the heavy and constant sense of doing something wrong agitates her stomach and heart, but seeing the others' reactions is helping her feel like she can face it without throwing up and crying. For now, at least. "We didn't want to tell tonight considering it's Kat's engagement party"

"But you know how grandma is" Richie says, half apologizing, to her parents. Her dad smiles at his daughter, before caressing her chin in a genuine gesture that Rafe hasn't ever received, not in a while for sure.

"We didn't even know you were-" Ward starts and looks between Richie and Rafe, back and forth, with a confused smile on his lip. His son tenses a bit, but if the man notices, she's not sure. "Together"

"When this happened" Rose asks, not really asking. "Why didn't you tell us you were seeing each other?"

"Last Christmas" Richie tells the woman and then lets her stare slipping through all the others' faces. "Then we saw each other at New Year Eve and, you know-"

"You know, some of us like privacy" Rafe interrupts Richie, clearly for her stepmom to catch as a not friendly comment. "We wanted to keep it quiet"

"Well, from not telling anyone to announcing a wedding there are a lot of other steps in between. Especially considering you two's turbulent history" Noah makes them notice, but then he reaches for the kids and takes both of them in. "Come here. I'm happy for you"

"Thank you, dad" Richie whispers, squeezed between her dad and Rafe, who's clearly uncomfortable by the physical interaction, when finally the man lets go of them and the others congratulate as well. Rose pats Rafe's cheek in a way that's everything but friendly and with a look in her eyes that says don't screw up, before going for a quick hug with Richie. On the other hand, Ward embraces both the younger boy and the girl and can't help but feel nervous when Rafe tenses in his dad's arms. Then, like the kid is finally realizing what's going on, he leans towards the man's hug and smiles against Ward's shoulders, eyes closed, when his dad pats him in the back. For a moment, Richie can't look at anything but them, wondering.

"I'm surprised" Ward comments in his kid's ear, but Richie is close enough to catch his words. "But congratulations, son. This a good news, it really is"

"Thanks, dad" Rafe mutters, voice soft like Richie hasn't ever heard him talking, before letting go of his dad's body completely. The girl tries to not stare more than she already has, but there's something magnetic for her to watch Rafe around his dad when they aren't fighting. She wonders if she looks the same, when she feels like she's making her parents proud. Then Rafe's eyes meet hers and his facial expression hardens when he realizes she's observing him. Richie looks aways.

"So" Rose starts and, like Margaret, looks for the future bride's hand, finding it empty. She turns towards Rafe like she can't believe him. "Did you propose without a ring?"

"Who do you think I am" her stepson comments, but Richie refrains from the need to laugh. Rose probably links the ring to a romantic proposal, kneeling and all, but Rafe was actually sitting in Richie's office and shoved the box over it like it was a business matter. "I gave her my mom's ring. It needs some adjustment, that's all"

Before anyone can say anything, or Rose straightens her spine at the mention of the old Cameron lady, another voice interrupts and it's Kat, intruding the conversion like she's interrupting something important. Her eyes move between the presents and she smiles, hand tied to Michael at her back.

"What's going on here?" she asks naively, she smiles to no one in particular and Richie asks herself how her sister is gonna react to the news, dropped during her engagement party like a bomb. She doesn't have to wait much to find out.

"Richie and Rafe are getting married" the mom of the two girls announces, preceding everyone else. Kat's eyes widen slightly, eyebrows furrowed and mouth that seems ready to say something, maybe ask them if they can repeat. Except that who spoke the next words isn't Kat, so her sister can't understand if she's mad or not for crashing her party, but a voice that belongs to someone that briefly Richie forgot about.

"What" everyone looks at the younger future bride's back, Richie's the faster to turn towards Madeleine's shocked face, mouth hanging open, the surprise in her expression sharing its presence with another feeling painted on her dark features. It needs a moment, eyes into each other, for Richie to recognize it. Betrayal.

"Made-" her friend starts, but the curly haired girl's jaw squeezes and, when she moves her stare into Rafe's, disgust is all she lets him read. The boy smiles and when Richie notices it, she mutters him to fucking stop under her breath before walking fast behind Madeleine. Her friend's steps are so fast that Richie would say she's running, causing the other to almost miss her as she leads her way through the crowd, the bodies of people that are genuinely enjoying Kat and Michael's party. On her way to catch up with Madeleine, who's clearly leading for a way out the wing reserved for the event, Richie almost stumbled into one of her waiters who apologizes like it's been his fault. Her consoling words, swearing it's been all on her, dissipates quickly as she walks past him and finally the last room reserved to the party ends, meaning that now there are just Madeleine running a marathon in an empty hallways and Richie trying to follow her timing, but she has always been terrible in any kind of sport.

"Mads-" she calls, breathing short, as the other seems perfectly fine with her own respiratory apparatus. "Can you stop? And talk-"

"Rafe" Madeleine spats, first thing she says when she stops abruptly and the fact that Richie was much behind her is the only reason why she doesn't bump right into her friend's chest and anger. "Rafe! Marrying Rafe Cameron. Are you kidding me, Richie?"

"No, I-" but words are missing and Richie's words stay empty of something meaningful to say, hanging open and making her look like a fool. What is she supposed to tell her? The truth? As fast as the thought comes into her mind, she knows she can't for many reasons. Fairly, Madeleine would asks her to not do that -marry Rafe for pure convenience- and also because apparently, now, Richie and Rafe are a team, whether she likes it or no, and after what she pulled with her grandma, she won't take decision for the two of them without talking about it first with the boy. If he keeps his words about doing it together, Richie will too: it means that she can't tell Madeleine the truth, even if she would agree on covering them.

"He made your life terrible. He made you go through hell at school. And who was always next to you?" just because it's a rhetorical question doesn't mean Richie doesn't try to answer. Her friend cut her, though. "Me. I was the one fixing what he broke on purpose. And now you're marrying him? Is he forcing you? This is completely out of nowhere and I can't-"

"No" Richie attempts and leans back, when Madeleine steps forward. Both their eyes widened, surprised, and if Richie tries to not let her friend believe she's scared of the sudden movement, the other doesn't let her angry mask leave her face. Understably, but it hurts. "He's not forcing me doing anything"

"Why on earth are you marrying him, then" Madeleine keeps asking, moving her hand to underline her thoughts. "What happened? How? When?! Because I feel like I have just be thrown into your life without even knowing you"

"I know what he did to me" Richie whisper and, no, she can't really forget and even less forgive: this marriage doesn't mean she will simply move on and will be able to look at Rafe and don't see the child and then the teenager that made her school years how Madeleine just described them, a living hell. Just because Richie made Rafe and people's words a life lesson, doesn't make every alright. Rafe has been a bad person and just because he kept his mouth shut in the last months, the ones after dropping out of college, or maybe even since Christmas holidays, doesn't mean Richie suddenly believed he wanted to make amends. For what she knows about him, he probably doesn't give a shit about what he did, or does, hurting people. But, again, this is a marriage for pure convenience and Richie is a woman that can see past feelings when it comes to business: marrying Rafe won't give just her parents (and his) something to be proud of her, so she can feel better in a very twisted unhealthy way, it will give her family wealth, materially and socially, will bond the families together and will make their emperors stronger. Richie has plans for the future of her family business and marrying Rafe means they can be more concrete: the Camerons have many resources, not just economical -which is the last thing that Richie needs from the boy, because she can afford whatever she wants- but places, people, ways of work out of her path. That's why she lies to Madeleine again. "But sometimes people apologize and others believe them, because they seem sincere. I wanted to believe Rafe and here I am"

"When exactly this happened" Madeleine asks.

"The beginning of the year. After Christmas and then New Year Eve, we-" Richie swallows, interrupting her lie she sees Madeleine face paints in disbelief. "I'm sorry for not telling you"

"Why didn't you?"

"I knew you wouldn't have liked it" and when the girl's mouth opens in what seems like a protest, Richie's arms move to indicate that exact moment. "Can you blame me?"

Richie feels dirty.

"Yes, I can blame you" Madeleine insists, but takes a step backwards. "If you told me months ago, hey, Mads, maybe I'm falling in love with Rafe Cameron of all the people I would help you figure it out"

"So you could have convinced me to not-" the words stuck in Richie's throat, unable for a moment to say them aloud, it never occurred to her that though, but now she has to face them. Madeleine rolls her dark eyes. "Fall in love with him"

The other scoff, the betrayal still painted all over her face. "I wouldn't-"

Richie thinks it fair, but it doesn't stop her from saying her next words. "You would have. You're a good friend, but I'm not stupid. He had a crush on you in school and despite both of you being popular, very attractive and very rich, you never thought he was worth your time-"

"Because popularity, attractiveness and wealth aren't everything, when you're a classist asshole"

Richie ignores her, even though she agrees. "So you would have tried to stop me. From liking him. For the same reasons" a pause. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn't have tried to change my mind if I would have came up to you and telling you I was falling in love with him"

There is a moment of pause that from Madeleine sounds like a confirmation and gives Richie time to feel bad for the way she's lying. Partially, because if her story would be true, she knows that's exactly what Madeleine would have done: trying to stop Richie from getting involved with someone like Rafe.

"I would have accepted it" the other answers, but it's weak. "Eventually"

And that's all they tell each other that night, in which they should have danced and had fun, instead it ends with Madeleine walking away and Richie not able to hold her tears anymore. They fall down her cheeks silently, like they are scared to make too much noise, because Richie doesn't cry in front of others and certainly she doesn't do it aloud. She learned to, as a matter of surviving. Which is the same reason why she hears someone walking behind her and, as a ghost, she slips away, down the hallway. Her office, on the opposite side of the resort from where she hopes the party is still going well, it's a safe place. It's a bubble of comfort, she has snacks, cigarettes and peace as she sits on a chair in her small terrace, with a view of the ocean that it's dark. It scares Richie during the day, it scares her at night, but it's fascinating anyway as the pale moon makes the calm water shine. She doesn't stay alone for much, not even the time for a whole cigarette and a mess of thoughts that keeps getting messier, when she hears someone behind her: she turns, not sure about who it is, and she doesn't give Rafe the time to show herself surprised, because she's turning off what's left of her cigarette on the nearest ashtray and dry her tears while doing so. She hopes he doesn't notice it.

"What do you want" she asks, the kindness in her voice gone, broken by the cry she was letting herself go and by the anger she's feeling just knowing Rafe is near her. He sees the tears badly dried in her cheeks, but doesn't say anything, as he leans against the frame of the door leading back inside from the balcony. She looks straight to the water in front of her, purposely ignoring him.

"See how you are doing" he says, not really like it should be obvious, in his voice uncertainty.

"I'm doing fine" Richie assures and her hands squeeze in fists, lying on her lap. "As you can see"

"You look like shit" it's his answer and Richie laughs quietly at that, knowing it's probably the nervousness acting for her. Before she can add anything to her hysterical laugh, he walks towards her and, without asking for permission, he falls on the chair next to her. He gets himself comfortable, she keeps not looking at him, but he does look at her and probably her hardness is what makes him blur his next words. "I'm sorry"

Her head turns abruptly, swallowing when her eyes meet him in the partial darkness of the night. She doesn't ask about what and she has the feeling that, if she'd ask him to explain what he's referring to, he won't tell her: though, he keeps his stare in hers and she knows.

"You shouldn't listen to conversations that you're not supposed to hear" Richie tells him, looking for a relaxed attitude, when she gets back to the view in front of them. It's a weak attempt. "It's rude"

Rafe ignores her. "And I never had a crush on Madeleine"

Richie's eyes narrow. "I don't care"

"I know" he tells quietly, in the corner of her eye, she sees him fidgeting with his golden ring. "I was just trying to make it clear because everyone always thinks I like someone just because they are hot-"

"Well, it's your fault, isn't it?" Richie asks, clearly remembering how easily he flirted with everyone rich and pretty. Never pushing himself too further, which was the reason why she always thought he did it for his own sake. The fear of rejection, in Madeline's case, now she's not sure anymore. "You always flirted with her. You invited Martha Graham to last year prom and she's really beautiful-"

"If arguing all the time for you it's flirting, I flirted with you too. In the last couple of years, at least" Rafe tells her, like it's obvious, but Richie doesn't think he's being sincere. She saw the way he looked at Madeleine, like everyone else looked at her friend, and she was sure Rafe never reserved such a stare to her. A doubt grows in her, though. What if she saw too much in his eyes when he looked at Madeleine? "About Martha, she asked me to prom and, yeah, she is hot and all, but it ended after that night. I wouldn't have invited her, but she did before I could have think of someone"

"So you just told her yes?"

He shrugs. "It was convenient"

"You do a lot of things out of convenience"

Rafe smirks and looks at Richie, unable to hold back hers, when their eyes meet. "I wouldn't have asked her to marry me"

She pretends to be amused, now, but she's not sure. "Why not"

He shrugs. "She would have thought I was in love with her or something, and at that point it would have been impossible to get rid of her"

"Maybe you would have fallen in love with her, after all" Richie suggests quietly and she opens the pack of cigarettes and takes one from the last remaining. After a moment of pondering, she throws the box to Rafe, as a quiet offer, that he catches easily. "Would it be impossible?"

Rafe watches Richie lift her stick with a lighter, admiring her face enlightened by the fire, as he waits for his turn. "Impossible. She doesn't have a personality. What would I fall in love with?"

For a moment Richie stays quiet and Rafe isn't sure she's gonna say anything at all, as they both enjoy the nicotine and feel their lungs burn. Then, he hears her taking a breath. Though, she takes another moment to herself. "Are we really doing it?"

"Yeah. We are" Rafe mutters and looks in front of her. He frowns. "Are you-are you having second thoughts?"

Richie snorts, but smiles, as she inhales from the cigarette. "What would you say"

"I'd say yes, yeah" he mutters, exhaling and matching her breath. "I know I made things difficult during the past years. With you first and then with Madeleine, but she's gonna come around and eventually accept it"

"Maybe she shouldn't accept it" Richie mutters, but sounds like she's talking more to herself than Rafe. "But I'm gonna talk to her again and see if she can try to not sabotage this marriage. Or try to cut your head off the first time she gonna see you"

"Thanks"

"You don't deserve it"

"Yeah, I can imagine" he mutters and he repeats: "When I said I'm sorry, I was-"

"Let's not talk about it, okay?" Richie asks and he almost protests, when he sees her extremely serious face avoiding him and nods. After several moments, souls are getting more relaxed and they finish their cigarettes in peace, getting rid of them in the nearby ashtray. It's Richie who breaks the silence again and even her tone is different, now, almost chill which is a paradox because she looks tired. "We will have to kiss, touch, show physical affection"

He laughs lowly, more because he didn't think she would have been the one bringing it up. "Are you realizing it now?"

Her eyes widen when she glances at him, he smirks. "Yeah? Did you think about it?"

"Sure" he answers as it isn't a big deal. "Before asking you the second time, I've analyzed the whole marriage things in all its part"

"Oh" she whispers and she feels stupid for not having think of it before, or for having told him just now. Her mouth opens and closes, many times, before she finds the courage to say her next words. "Want to kiss?"

Rafe's head snaps after her question, but Richie isn't still looking so she registers it in the corner of her eyes, purposely admiring the ocean. When he doesn't answer and contemplates her options to get out of that shameful situation as best as she can, she throws him a glance and decides for the truth soaked in coldness. "Don't make any idea, it's just for practical purposes. Better if the first time it's not in front of our families, I'm gonna die, if we aren't believable"

The boy swallows, but he's already standing from his deckchair and walking toward hers. His voice is the steadiest Richie has ever heard. "Sure. Why not"

She crosses her legs in front of her and adjusts her dress in a way that doesn't stop her movements, as he takes a seat in front of the girl and opens his legs from both sides of the chair. He looks at Richie. "You sure?"

"It's just a kiss, Rafe" she tells him. "We're not gonna have a realization about out feelings like we are in The Proposal or something"

"Haven't seen that movie" he tells her.

"I'll add it you to watch list, considering your habit of asking people to marry you just for convenience purposes" she mutters and he's about to protest, ready to say it's not an habit if he did just once and he's not planning to turn Richie in the first of a long list, when she she interrupts him by pressing her lips over his his.

For a moment, they froze, but just because they would have laughed if anyone would have told them that they would have sit in her private balcony, out of her office, engaged and kissing like kids that didn't spend all their childhood disliking each other. I still dislike him, no matter how many kisses we're gonna exchange, Richie reminds herself, but shutting her eyes closed when Rafe presses his lips more against hers. They part for him, he gets himself comfortable as he always does, arrogantly, when someone is welcoming to him and he thinks it's owed to him. When his tongue brushes her bottom lip in a principle of caress, Richie pushes away, holding herself away from a fraction of second, before she kisses the corner of Rafe's lips and moves until his are the ones parting this time and she's the one leading the way. When she thinks he's gonna protest for the lack of power she's letting him have, he follows her with complaints. Actually, his head bends more and Richie takes it as an invitation to get herself comfortable, slipping one of her hands on the nape of his neck and pulling him closer. She barely registers his hand moving from her crossed legs and up to her thighs, covered by the green dress that her grandma insulted without shame. They plant on her hip, she feels that, and she answers by pulling him closer, even though their lips are already melting into each other and their noses keep touching.

No one of them hears steps approaching, until someone clears their throat and they jump in surprise. Wheezie smiles like she's over the moon, as her brother and now sister in law looks at her like she's an alien, breath frantic.

"When dad and Rose told me, I was skeptical, but I'm not anymore after this" the little girl tells, eyes slipping back and forth between Rafe and Richie. She's amused, but she softens her voice and expression when she sees the two aren't gonna say anything, too tangled into what they were doing a moment before. "They sent me to check everything was alright after you disappeared. Kat was worried-"

"Everything it's fine" Rafe tells her sister abruptly, but it's not rude. Not wanting to look at him, Richie keeps her stare into Wheezie and smiles to underline his words.

"Fine" she repeats, between a short breath and another.

"I can see" the younger mutters, then she points to her back, to the room behind her and generally to the party. "I'll go tell them that. But don't disappears again, or they'll send me her again and-"

"Yeah" Richie assures Wheezie and Rafe sees her smile to his sister. "We're coming"

"Okay, then" the younger takes a step backwards, but after another look at the two in front of her, she can't help but add: "That's super cool, by the way".

Richie's heart aches at Wheezie's jovial expression and she barely hears Rafe thanking her, but also telling the kid to go away now. Wheezie leaves with a laugh and Richie falls back into her chair, finally looking at Rafe. He holds her stare, sure she's gonna say something about the kiss. She doesn't.

"We're gonna break their hearts, when they'll find out" she confides and her eyes are steady, but lucid.

"That's why they are not gonna find out" he answers, standing from the end of the deckchair and the other looks up at him. "Let's keep it between us, okay? No one, Richie, I'm serious, just me and you"

She nods, sure that she won't be the one to tell anyone -shame would overcome her and she's not ready for that- but dubious about a mistake, or someone finding out taunts her mind. He invites her to stand as well, so they can leave and avoid seeing Wheezie appear again. When Richie is standing in front of Rafe, they keep their mouths shut for a moment and it's a heavy one, until the girl's slips away from his personal space and gains her own.

"We thought we should discusse a share of each other business-"

"No"

The table falls silent, every eye on Richie, except Rafe's, whose smile is the only thing that distracts Ward Cameron from the flat abrupt answer that his son's future wife just gave him.

Richie expected a meeting like that, all the Gardners and the Camerons around the same table, now that they are finally officially tied to each other -or almost- but she hoped she had more time to see it happen. Instead, they are all sitting in her house garden, under the hot sun of those summer days in light clothes and jovial smiles, during the first lunch after Kat's engagement party. Richie apologized to her sister the night before, for dropping the news of her and Rafe's wedding during an event that should have been just for the older Gardner and her fiancé. Kat just smiled and kissed her head, I hope you're happy she whispered and Richie swore she was. That's all that matters then.

She cried a bit the previous night after that, after her sister's sweet words, as Richie questioned all her and Rafe's choices. Eventually she fell asleep, eyes red, already knowing what kind of day was waiting for her and what she would have dealt with. Her mom's joy, her dad's long glances, Wards and Rose's long but calculated hugs. What she didn't expect was Rafe's light, gentle, greeting kiss on her temple, as he squeezed her neck and watched his sisters being welcomed by Richie's parents with honey and love. She would have dared to say that his gesture was a reassuring one, but she got distracted before she had the chance to overanalyze it, when Sarah made a joke about Rafe and he visibly grew nervous. While the two bickered back and forth, Richie couldn't help but notice her dad and Ward exchanging whispered words, in their own world as usual. Just because Richie expected that too, though, doesn't mean that she likes what they are now proposing to her and that she's gonna agree: she's doing a lot of things to please the people around the table, even before herself, but she's not gonna share her family business and society with the Camerons.

Everyone is looking at her, clearly not expecting her to give such abrupt confident answers. On the other hand, Rafe's the only one smiling, because that exact morning told his dad to not push himself too further with that partnership, but did the older Cameron hear what his son had said? Rafe doubted about it and now he sees the glance he's serving his older kid -annoyed, maybe even scolding- before getting back to Richie.

"It could be a good deal, guys" Noah tells them, as Rosie drinks her white wine, too interested in the conversation.

"Maybe we should give them time to think about it" Richie's mom suggests and her daughter looks at her, not really surprised that she is the diplomatic one. The younger of her daughters pours herself some Coca Cola, because she hates wine, and drinks from her glass, before interrupting Ward that is agreeing with Grace.

"No" the younger repeats and Wheezie blinks behind her big glasses. "I don't want to share a society with Rafe. We won't think about it, because I don't agree"

"Rachel-" Noah starts and the tone is a serious, warning one.

"There are two people in this relationship" Ward makes Richie notice and it's clear what his stare is stating when he looks to his son again and, suddenly, happens what Rafe had predicted and didn't want to. Ward is telling side with me without the need to use words, but the boy's eyes unvolutary slips to the person sitting next to him at the table, whose eyes are doing the same exact thing. They are getting married to please their families, but he knows he have to stick with Richie if they want to make it work and she seems really determined to keep her position. He can guess why.

"We'll talk about it" he exhales in the end, watching Richie's expression paint in an expression similar to a betrayal. He doesn't think he ever saw her do that to him, because she never needed to: usually they have always been in two very different positions, one against the other. Then, Rafe turns toward the adults. "But if Richie is still gonna say no, we won't"

He's sure she's gonna protest right there, sitting at the table full of empty plates and full stomach, but before he can kick her leg and ask her to shut up for everyone's sake, Sarah interrupts.

"So that's exactly what it needed for Rafe to learn his place?" she asks. "A girlfriend? If I knew, I would have set him up with someone a long time ago"

"Please, spare us" the boy tells his sister and narrows his eyes, playing nervously with the handle of the fork in his empty plate. "You're not even funny"

"I thought we would talk about the wedding" Wheezie complains, interrupting his siblings' annoying exchange, and Richie finds herself glad that someone is stopping the two. Usually it can be even amusing or enlightening, but if she's gonna hear Rafe and Sarah any longer today, when her nerves are already under pressure, she's gonna snap.

"Marriage has many aspects" Rose tells her younger step daughter and smiles at her, gesture that the girl doesn't reply back. The she drops the bomb. "Economical too. You'll understand when you'll eventually grow up and get married"

"Nothing Sarah has to worry about since she's gonna end up marrying a Pogue" Rafe tells everyone, but Wheezie in particular, and the middle sibling snorts to his words. "They'll end up living on the Château, best scenario. Worst? His falling apart boat"

"That's really classist" Michael tells Rafe, sitting in front of him, and Richie almost forgot about him there, but Kat too. The man is really quiet, everyone suspects because he's one of those people that always think they're gonna disturb others, but Kat is easily falling for his quiet behavior. "I'm sure he's a nice guy, that will share with your sister what they'll need"

"Thank you, Michael" Sarah answers, throwing Rafe a glance that says see, he's a nice guy, you should learn. Her brother makes a face.

"He's an idiot" Rafe says. "Would have been dozen or more of people from The Cut better than him"

"I like John B" Ward says from the other side of the table and Rose nods to his words, as his husband refers to her daughter's new boyfriend. "And I like Richie. No reason to put one against the other"

Rafe next to Richie snorts, she knows his little childish fight with Sarah just turned into something bigger by the redness of his cheeks.

"Rafe-" Richie mutters and she has this bone deep feeling that this isn't even about her, it's about him and his dad, and his stare is so loud that for a moment she thinks he didn't hear her. Eventually, he lets his dad's challenging stare and look at her, he refrains from the need to roll his eyes and doesn't see Richie look past him, once he turns pretending forced disinterest.

Now, she has never been antagonistic to Ward Cameron, but the way she holds his glacial eyes without even blinking, unafraid, says that they might have a problem if the man is gonna have more to say about Rafe and this marriage than he's allowed to. Rafe is a pain in the ass, he's exactly what Michael called him and it's easy to turn on when a fight appears at the horizon, but Ward can be worse.

"Can we talk about the other aspects of the wedding?" Wheezie asks and it's an obvious attempt to let tension go and change the topic for good. "Like the dress. Can I come for the choice of the dress?"

"Sure you can" Grace assures the kid, while Richie's stomach protests at the thought of going shopping, but even more at the thought of going shopping with people staring at her. She likes to go alone, or with Madeleine, who usually doesn't insist if Richie doesn't like something and tells her she doesn't even want to get out of the changing room. But now Madeleine is avoiding Richie like she's the plague, reading texts and ignoring them, so the future bride is pretty sure she's not gonna show up to her invitation to go pick out a wedding dress in two days. "Kat is gonna wear the one that was mine, so we didn't go anywhere to pick a new one, but we can go with Richie to pick hers"

"Cool. Cool" Wheezie smiles to herself and drinks from her glass of Coca Cola and ice, now surely melted.

"Richie, honey. And Rafe, of course" Grace calls and both their heads turn simultaneously, eyes surprised because the tone the girl's mom is using is particularly sugar-coated and both of them have a bad feeling about it. "Me and dad talked about it this morning with Kat and Michael and they agreed. The Camerons think it's a good idea as well and-"

"What it is about, mom" Richie mutters, looking to her sister for support, but facing not just a smile, but a bright one that gives the younger shivers. Back to her mom, she feels her heart aching.

"We thought you might get married the same day as Kat and Michael" Noah ends instead of his wife, stretching one hand to grab his older daughter's and at the same time smiling at Richie on the other side of the table. The younger's mouth opens and closes, thinking that it's worse than what she would have considered and imagining already her next to Kat, white dresses, one always shining more than the other. She's not the one, usually.

Again, since Rafe's first proposal, she feels the need to throw up as a sort of cathartic act.

Again, she refrains herself from doing so, but she gets ready to refuse, categorically, when Rafe anticipates her answer.

"Can we-can we think about it?"

"You're making their lives very difficult" Rafe announces himself after lunch, when Ward and Noah are already excluding themselves from any other conversation for their business bubble, Sarah left to go to her boyfriend's place and Richie ignored what the others started to do, when she excused herself for a moment and left her chair at the table. She ignored Kat's frowning stare and went for the back garden, looking desperately for a pack of cigarettes left somewhere around the porch and its coffee tables, or the wooden under the windows. She found nothing, so she sits restless on the stairs that lead to the garden with the pool and her mom's winter garden and watches as a bee flies around their bright Hortenses. She doesn't even turn, when Rafe approaches.

"They're masters of complicating mine" she tells him, feeling him always closer, until he reaches her same step and sits. He's wearing a well ironed shirt, his hair blonder under the sun than they usually are and his eyes are a bright blue. He makes a face, when she looks at him and purses her lips.

"I know, but we're also gonna marry to make them happy" he tells her, for once weirdly unsure. "What's the point of getting married because of them, and then not doing what they want us to do"

"Because the fact that we are getting married for them it's already a big sacrifice, don't you think?"

"Technically, they didn't ask us to" Rafe makes her notice, but she gives him a hard stare and he rolls his eyes. "Okay. Are we gonna tell them no about everything?"

"Absolutely yes" Richie answers, simple as that. The sighs and the change in her mood is so visible and clear, that Rafe is surprised. "Hey, do you have smoke?"

He opens his mouth, eyebrows lifted in surprise after the question, but then he closes it and nods. She doesn't even thank him when she serves herself and steals the lighter appearing from the pocket of his dark trouser without waiting for him to give it to her. He follows her example and turns on his own cigarette, inspiring, when she's already exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"About the shares" she starts, voice pitched, but frowning to herself. "It's not like I don't want us to work together, I do, I have some ideas too that we could work together on. It's just that we can make better deals, no need to buy shares from each other's companies" she stops for a moment, looking at Rafe to see his reaction. He doesn't look her way, doesn't blink. He waits for her to keep talking, as he smokes. "We could open a shared account, both names, and put our money there. It will be easy when we'll divorce"

Richie says it moving the hand holding the cigarette a bit too frantically and Rafe tries to remember when was the last time he saw Richie like that: she seems drunk, like when people drink too much and they can't stop talking, finding everything amusing and being loud, because they don't want to be sad. But Rafe saw Richie drinking anything but Coca Cola, so he knows she's not drunk, but just a lot nervous. Last time she got that close to this state was when he walked to her office and asked to marry him -again- but back then she was less talkative, less open, far more scared.

He doesn't say anything and her frown grows deeper. "You know why I don't want to, don't you? What's mine is mine, what's yours is yours and I want to keep it this way. My sister left the business to me and I'm the only heir and you-'' a pause and a sigh. "Sarah probably will do the same. Wheezie is still very young. We might be the only ones leading our companies, don't you want to have yours all to yourself?"

Her eyes are big and sincere, as she looks at him like he needs to hear this and agree with her. Rafe doesn't think it happened once, since they know each other, that she leaned on him like that.

"Do you trust me more with your money than a share that will probably be so small to not give me power over nothing?" he asks, like he's not sure he understands. Not fully, at least.

"Money comes and goes, Rafe" she tells him, but he still doesn't seem sure and a thought appears in Richie's mind. "Will you have problems with managing our money?"

He answers too fast, too abruptly, so he's the one giving himself away telling Richie he's, in fact, lying. "No"

"Liar" the girl accuses him and he sighs, when she corners him with a hard stare. "Can you at least be honest with me? Like, for real. We have to deal with this shit together and if you're gonna make this hard, I swear-"

"You're so dramatic, did someone ever tell you that?" when Richie doesn't answer, but gives him a long challenging glance as she takes a drag, Rafe sighs. "Sometimes I tend to use them for things I shouldn't, but I can manage them. Don't worry"

From the tone of the admission, Richie thinks that probably it's costing him everything to tell aloud, so she wonders how difficult it must be for him to tell it to her. Or maybe to anyone, because she's sure he's not someone that allows himself to look vulnerable or wrong, human. She gets that, she doesn't like others seeing crying, considering it as a sign of weakness she doesn't want others to take advantage of.

"Drugs?" Richie dares to ask, slowly, lowly, like she's scared he's gonna run away. He doesn't, but he doesn't answer either. "I'm sure I should tell I'll help you-"

"Don't" Rafe mutters and breathes smoke in. "Don't tell me that. I don't need it, I'll manage okay?"

"Rafe-"

"Just because we're getting married doesn't mean we are friends" Rafe tells her and his voice is serious, like it doesn't have space for argument. "We're partners now -business partners- and I'm telling you that money won't be a problem, I'll deal with it myself"

Richie's jaw squeezes. "It's not reassuring"

"Trust me with this, or trust me with a share" he tells her glacially and she looks at him, like he's another person, not the same he was talking about a moment before. The image of Rafe snorting coke at a party appears in mind, it gives her nausea. "It's up to you"

"Is it a threat?" but if she meant to sound challenging, she fails, Rafe notices it because his eyes find hers and for a moment there's just silence.

"It's me giving you two options" he shrugs and, unable to bear her stare longer, he looks between his feet. "My dad will be pleased with you accepting what he proposed and it will be better for me too, but if you prefer to share an account and make this way-" he shrugs again. "We will. Just don't get paranoid over it"

Rafe it's a wall. Richie hears him talking and she knows he won't accept a word out of her mind about this topic, if she keeps bringing drugs up. Though, it scares her, because she knows that if Rafe is not gonna manage his growing addiction, it won't be just a problem about their money once married, it will be also for his own health and her safety. She saw him high, he gets angry and paranoid, he gets in fights easily because he gets on the defensive from the whole world and just because he never hurt her -physically- doesn't mean that the thought doesn't cross her mind.

The coke it's what she guesses it's a recent habit, they have been classmates since the early days and all he got high with in high school was weed. She found him once smoking a joint in a janitor closet and blackmailed him after that, but he smoked with her at parties too, sometimes in the same circle, sometimes not, but it was always just marijuana. Coke was a step Rafe started taking in the last couple of months, Richie guessed college, because it wasn't something she ever saw him doing in high school. Now, she can just hope it's really a relatively recent habit that he'll be able to shut down. She also asks herself if she should do more, but her question stays unanswered.

"Fine" she says in the end and exhales nicotine. "Just don't screw up"

"Have a little faith" Rafe scoffs, but Richie knows he's bluffing.

They fall silent, quiet, when they have questions, thoughts, ideas going through their minds, but they don't share them because it's easier to simply sit and smoke as a copy mechanism for the argument they just had. Cool it down. Usually, fights were an everyday event back to school days, but now lately they got along more than they like to admit, due to the whole marriage thing. It makes them nervous without them telling aloud, but it worked as a glue like no project in high school has ever been able to.

They finish their cigarettes and Richie pushes an ashtray found nearby towards Rafe, placing it between the two of them: he uses it, glancing at her as he does so.

"So" he starts and clears his throat when. Richie blinks, waiting for him to keep talking. When Rafe stops pouting, he looks up at her at the same moment in which the sun of that hot day enlightens her figure, skin pale as milk and full of freckles covering her like the stars cover the sky. "What about the wedding? The whole let's get married with Kat and her defensor-of-the-poor husband?"

"My answer is no" Richie tells him and closes an eye against the sunlight that is blinding her. "And I know yours is no too"

A short laugh, mixed to an amused scoff. "You don't know that"

"You and your family can't live out of the spotlight, Rafe" she reminds him and he rolls his eyes at her words. "Look at me, in the eyes, and tell me you want to share your wedding day with someone else"

"It's not like it's our, you know, big day or something" he mutters, but when Richie gives him a knowing look, one that says liar again, he sighs. "Fine. You're right. I don't want to get marry with your sister and his boyfriend"

"Was it so difficult to admit?" she asks and then she's already forgetting about it, sighing about something else. "Did you think we would have married so fast?"

They exchange a glance, a heavy one, before the boy shrugs.

"No?" it comes out like a question out of Rafe's mouth. "I mean, thinking about it, I'm asking myself if it isn't better. What's the point of waiting? And I'm not talking just about us, it's a very general thought: sometimes couples need a whole year or more of preparations. Unless it's for major reasons, I don't see the point"

"They want it to be perfect" she whispers, like it's a secret.

"Wouldn't you be more excited about the thought of starting your life with someone as fast as you can, than picking the perfect dress? Or choosing the perfect decorations?" Rafe asks and Richie sits there, in silence, looking at him clearly avoiding her stare as a light blush colors his cheeks. She would have mocked him for it in another situation, but not now, his speech makes a point and is sweet. She never thought that the day in which she would have looked at Rafe and thought of the word sweet next to his name, would have come. But here it is. "Don't get me wrong. I like big, fancy, parties, especially when they celebrate me. But a whole year seems a lot when you can get marry to the person you love the day after"

Her lips purse, a bit unsure about Rafe's speech because she's maybe seeing it: the romanticism, the sweeteners, that Rafe always hides. And it doesn't make her uncomfortable, no, it makes her uneasy. When she talks, her voice cracks. "For the same reason, shouldn't you want to -I don't know- marry me as late as you can?"

"Not really, no" he answers flatly, but his face frowns. "Now, getting married can help us not have second thoughts. I didn't think we would have married this summer, maybe after that, but you mom proposing to get married in -what?- September, gave me something to think about. September isn't that bad"

"It's really close"

"I know" Rafe smiles at Richie, like she's a child all of a sudden and she says something sweet, something naive. Before anyone can say anything, Rafe's expression changes like he just remembered something and, under Richie's focused stare, he looks for something on the chest pocket of his white shirt. His mom's ring comes out, unboxed and shining under the sunlight. "I was forgetting it"

Richie swallows, when Rafe offers it to her and the little diamonds reflect the light in many colors. "Are you sure?"

"Are you sure?"

The question is simple, one that Richie should already have the answer to, considering how further they moved in less than twenty four hours. Last night she thought that Rafe and his marriage proposal were water under the bridge and in a couple of hours she found herself in a relationship, engaged, ready to get married before she had ever considered. Now, she looks at the ring and she feels transported back to her office, days prior, almost a week, when Rafe proposed the second time and reality crashed over her. The first time, back to midsummer, he could have been drunk, just tipsy, maybe high, but the second he was clearly lucid and it scared her. Like the ring scares Richie now, seeming heavier than it actually is.

"We'll have to, you know-" Rafe's eyes are expectant, as she talks. "Buy an house and move in together, kissing in public and hold hand, hear people ask us when we will have a kid, going to each other's family dinner-"

"I know" Rafe tells her seriously. "But I'm not gonna have kids"

"God, no" Richie exhales, shivers down her spine at the thought of having a child with Rafe, or with anyone, actually. Motherhood is another thing she gave for granted growing up, because others -society- always tell young girls that it's a step closer to becoming adults: but Richie isn't sure it's for her, having a child to look out for and taking the responsibility of another life. She wants to leave it to someone else, especially now that surely she's not gonna have one with Rafe. "We'll have very separate rooms when we'll move in together. But people will ask. And we'll have to do all those things -pretending- for a while. It can be years, Rafe, until we'll move on to someone we like more than pleasing our families"

He shrugs, ring still in hand and displays for her to pick it up. When he doesn't know what to say, because she's right, but he's not even sure she's having second thoughts or wants him to have them, he closes his hand with the ring in his palm. In a moment, as he pulls himself away, she pushes hers toward him, showing him her empty fingers and moving them in a clear invitation of sliding the ring on the right one. He looks up and blinks in a silent question, when she nods.

"Okay" he whispers, opening his palm again and showing his mom's ring. "If it fits, you'll have to eventually put it away for a couple of days, so they'll believe I didn't lie last night about making it adjusted"

"Yeah, sure" she interrupts, in her voice Rafe hears what? A bit of excitement? He hides the surprise and cracks a smile to himself.

The ring slides perfectly in Richie's finger ring.

The day of the fit of the dress is a nightmare.

Richie is an avid compulsive buyer, she admits it, but usually she doesn't go with a group of people following her, waiting for her and judging every single piece of cloth she puts on. She has a whole room full of clothes next to her bedroom, which sometimes makes her feel bad for buying things that she doesn't always need, but the feeling of picking something that results nice for her is pleasing. The thing, though, is that usually she's alone when she goes around shops and spending hours picking dresses, deciding what's okay and what not, having a stressful cry in the fitting room if it's a bad day, or not caring if she can't find anything looking decent if it's a good day. A lot of the time, through the years, the only person with her was Madeleine, just her and her patience that, now, while Richie sits on a small stool with a horrible white dress on, isn't present. Richie misses Madeleine: she's a bit mad with her, but at the same time the future bride can't help but understand her best friend's point of view. Humanly speaking, Rafe is the worst pick to fall in love with, but also to improvvise an arranged marriage, but Richie knows it's a good one for business.

But Madeleine doesn't know that, she thinks Richie is suddenly, unbelievably, in love with him and, well, can Richie blame her? They talked shit about him since the early school days, growing together but apart, never forgiving him for being such a dick. Now, a voice in Richie's head insists that Madeleine should have shown up, because you would have gone, in switched place.

While crying, alone in the dressing room, Richie tries to shut that thought away. She lost count of the many dresses she wore already, some she liked, some that the others liked. The latter have been the worst, because they didn't fit with her taste and, out of the changing room, she felt like making a fool of herself covers in white different textiles that made her look dumb. The one she's wearing now, three hours later, is one suggested by Rose and the more Richie looks at it -big tulle gown, corset so tight she's scared that all paillettes are gonna explode in someone's face- the more she thinks she looks like an wedding favor. She hates it and she hated every single one she put one, before stripping it off.

A knock at the door shakes her from her state, when clearly someone waits for her to answer and invites whoever is behind to come in. She doesn't do it straight away, she dries her cheeks and asks for a moment, hoping to lose the redness in her eyes that indicate she has been crying.

"Come in" the girl mutters, but the person behind the door hears anyway and Richie is sure to see the nice girl has been helping her the whole morning around the shop, but she's surprised to see Kat smiling politely.

"Richie-" she starts, when she realizes that her sister has been crying and now it's masking it. She doesn't bring it up, what comes in and closes the door at her back. "I know it's stressful-"

"You don't know that" Richie answers, maybe harsher than she meant, but, really, she would bet that Kat wouldn't look that ridiculous with such a ridiculous dress. She didn't even have to go through this phase, because she simply put on their mom's wedding dress from the 80s and a dressmaker made sure to make it fit with both Kat and the twenty one century. It was an already nice dress, but when the features that called the old years have been resized so Richie's sister wouldn't have looked like she was in a Madonna's music video, it looked even nicer. Richie isn't jealous that Kat is gonna use it, because she wants to think that, if she would have been the first getting married, she would have been the one to inherit it. She hopes, at least. "Sorry"

"No need to be" Kat tells, genuinely okay with her sister's tone. She gets close, wrapped into a white and blue flower dress and sits next to Richie. "Is it because of the dresses, or because Madeleine isn't here?"

The younger one shakes her head, but she also shrugs. She's telling her I don't know. "Both. I guess"

"Mmm" Kat murmurs and an arm slips gently around Richie's back, wrapping her with sister like a blanket, as she caresses her sister arm in slow sweet movements. "About the dress, you're just stressed and it's normal. I bet is stressful to get in and out those mortal traps every time-"

"They are so heavy" Richie complains, voice broken like she did when she was younger and Kat was always next to her, licking Richie's wounds like the good big sister she is. Even when the younger one sounded like a spoiled kid, she never missed being gentle with Richie.

"I can imagine" Kat whispers and then she looks up to the mirror in front of them, asking her sister to do the same. "But maybe it's also because we are forcing you to try something that has nothing to do with you. How many dresses did you pick and try because you liked them?" Richie doesn't try to answer, she knows it's rhetorical. "Barely a few. You wore almost exclusively the ones we suggested and look at you now, looking like a Rose Cameron in all this tulle and a giant veil. Is it yours, or ours wedding?"

"Mine?" it comes out like a question.

"Yours" Kat squeezes Richie's arm and looks at her sister intensely in her eyes, suddenly frowning. Maybe it's even unvolutary. "I want you to be happy. Are you happy, Richie?"

She thinks about it and the answer isn't yes, but no either. She's getting married to a man she doesn't love, she's in a constant perennial state of competition with everyone around her and her best friend hates her for both the things, without even knowing it.

"I'm working on it" she answers in the end and takes a breath.

"That's the spirit" Kat smiles, genuinely, like she's proud of Richie, but the younger one rejects this thought straight away. There's a long pause after that. "And forgive Madeleine if she can't seem to get over whatever is going on between the three of you. She will, eventually, just be patient. She wants to see you happy too, I swear"

Richie nods, not sure what her sister predicted is the truth or not, but she doesn't ask for a confirmation. Silence falls upon them, until the younger notices how spaced out her sister looks all suddenly and feels like she's an intruder in a moment that isn't supposed to be for her.

"Are you okay?" Richie asks, careful with her tone and words.

"How did you know Rafe was the one?" Kat wonders, eyes still somewhere else, mind too. Her younger sister's mouth hangs open. Never knew, she just thinks of it.

On Saturday, Rafe proposes to Richie to go out together and it's less awkward than the girl would have thought. They sit together at one of the tables at the diner, the one where Richie would have usually gone with Madeleine, and they stay there for most of the night.

They pick the further seats from the door, from the big windows facing the street and, mostly, from curious stares. It's Richie that proposes it and Rafe agrees quite happily, but once seated, if someone notices them anyway, they don't know. They are so busy planning and scheming first and ordering more french fries than they are supposed to eat and talking about whatever comes to their mind then, that they lose track of space and time. They even laugh -genuinely- at something the other has said, which confuses them at first, before relaxing.

The night goes smoothly and Rafe pays for both of them, agreeing on Richie to do it the next time and sparing himself a speech about the fact that a woman can pay for a date, or at least split.

"Who said it was a date?" he asks, holding the door open for her with a casual relaxed gesture and following at Richie's heels right after. The night is humid and there aren't many people around, the street lamps barely enlighten the girl's face, but he knows the way her lips purses when she's embarrassed, so he can imagine the redness coloring her cheeks.

"You know what I meant" she mutters, adjusting the collar of her top, as she goes for the passenger seat.

Once inside, doors slammed shut, Rafe is tempted to answer with a cordial I know what you meant which actually means fake date, instead he stays silent for a moment and looks at the street in front of them. Richie does the same, when he whispers his next words and she's forced to turn and actually look at him.

"It was" he tells her, finally reciprocating Richie's attention and observing her in the passenger seat, nervous like she's under process. "A date. You can offer me the next one, if you want to"

Rafe has a weird meaning of we should hang out and show others that we're together too, because Richie thought it was a way to at least spend some time publicly together, instead they just walked inside a Figure Eight party house together, before he flew away and she had to do her social business.

She wasn't sure about going to that party, because she knew that once would have meant fun -music, weed, alcohol- while now it means stares. Tons of that.

The first when they got out of Rafe's car and walked through the front garden, then they just grew and grew, as people greeted them with hey, man, heard about the news to the boy and hi, Richie, how it happened usually accompanied with waves and winks. She's sure she heard someone ask Rafe Richie Gardner? Really? when they got inside and the music was already many levels higher, as they probably thought she couldn't hear, but she unvolutary looked over to Rafe and she saw him noticing her glance. Without an answer to whoever asked him that question, he just slipped his arm around her shoulders and walked away among bodies, more greetings and some silent stares. The gesture shook Richie a bit, because Rafe has a weird sense and timing for being touchy: he does very little, very briefly for a moment or two, before it is over, but when he does so, he does it like he means to be honest and her heart has a strange way to react to this. They kissed a couple of times after that first time at Kat's engagement party and Richie always tried to not think too much about the fact that they did it more when they were alone, than when they were in front of others. Whether they found themselves alone or with someone, it was usually Rafe the one showing signs of affection through innocent gestures or their making out sessions that she started to find pleasing somewhere after that first time. Richie thought it made sense that he tried to be more discreet with others around, considering that it wouldn't be appropriate to share long kisses in front of Ward Cameron, but the small action Rafe reserves her outside their private space -in the last days, her office during lunches, which doesn't feel that weird- never felt less honest. Richie considered Rafe to be a good actor.

Now, at least an hour after their arrival, she's serving herself a beer, him somewhere where she hopes he's not getting high on coke and music that seems higher moment after moment. Richie is moving her head to the rhythm of Dua Lipa, when she turns and comes face to face with Madeleine. Her long hair is tied in a braid, as she's wearing a nice red dress and no smile on her lip.

Though, she doesn't seem ready to fight, which pushes Richie to mutter a quiet "Hi" that isn't heard by the other, but read from her mouth.

"Hey" Madeleine says louder, a cup of something in her hand, before she blurts out her next words. "I'm sorry"

Richie blinks, surprised, before her eyes wide. Her heart turns upside down, containing an excited feeling she's been feeling a bit too much lately: paradoxically, the guilt that she thought would have taunted her like a shadow, after agreeing with marrying Rafe, appears just in specific moments, from time to time. Which doesn't mean she lives with herself easily, because when those moments of happiness happen and the guilt for what she's doing knocks at the door, she feels guilty for being able to enjoy some moment too.

"I'm sorry too" Richie answers in a rush, for lying to you. "For not telling you before. I should have, I just-"

"No, you were right" Madeleine interrupts and leaves her apparently empty cup on the nearest counter, as she lets a person pass between her body and Richie. The latter notices it's an old classmate from physics and both the girls see the glance the girl reserves for Richie: like she grew a third head, but maybe getting married to Rafe Cameron is worse. Before Madeleine can tell her to go away, the girl does it without need to be prompted, so the two friends are now alone again in a kitchen packed with people. "I would have made a drama out of it"

"It's Rafe, so-" Richie shrugs. "It would have been understandable"

"Yeah, it's Rafe" Madeleine says and purses her lips, before attempting a smile. Richie gets that, her best friend opening and apologizing, but still being unsure about what's going on. She appreciates the effort. "I should have tried to understand anyway, if you cared. He seems to, all sudden, but maybe it's just me that feels like it happened so fast"

No, it's not just you, Richie thinks but holds it for herself, as her mind flies to her white dress and Madeleine's eyes to the ring in Richie's finger, as she holds her cup of beer. She doesn't comment about how beautiful the object is, how many did in the past days in which the girl could finally bring it around. She is scared to lose it, but she also stares at it so many times during the day that probably it would be impossible.

"I should have come for the appointment to pick the dress" Madeleine continues and Richie thinks at the tears that rolled down her cheeks that day, anxious filling her chest for many things to count abs if she made out of there with decency was because of Kat. In the end, she found the dress, one that she chose and that had nothing to do with her mom's, or Rose's ones. It was more Richie's style, without heavy tulle, paillettes or intricated motives: it was simple, silk, elegant without trying to. When she showed it to everyone outside the changing room, her eyes turned lucid: everyone thought it was because it was the right one, when in reality Richie was just relieved, because she knew that beautiful dress was consoling her, telling that finally the day was over. "I thought about it the whole time and then Rafe came to me the other day-"

This catches Richie out of her mind, suddenly curious and surprised by the admission. The frown on her forehead tells Madeleine that she didn't know that particular. "He what?"

"We met at the caffetteria down the docks" the other explains, words left hanging, probably not sure about what she should say. In the end, she considers she doesn't owe Rafe any kind of loyalty. "He came to me and told me I was being insufferable and it was better if I made up my mind. Sounded like a threat-"

"Usual Rafe, then" Richie tells Madeleine, but it's nervous now, she's unsure about what to do with this news about the boy.

"Yeah, usual Rafe. Except he was trying to do something nice for once" the other admits like it's costing her everything. "He was the one that told me you would have been here, wouldn't have come without you"

"Oh"

"I have some difficulties understanding this thing between you two, but-" her shoulders lift. Surrendering. "But if it's what you want, I'll try to be on your side. I'm sorry I've already missed so much"

"It's fine" Richie assures and, in a brave moment, she stretches her hand towards Madeleine who instantly accepts it as an invitation and pulls her in. The hug feels like a push for Richie to let everything completely go, embraced by the only person that has always been able to catch up with her feelings and that knows how to act with every single one of them. She breathes Madeleine in and thinks how much she missed this, someone taking her inside their arms with nothing holding back, like she's a kid that needs all the love of the world, not just half caresses or embraces because she's an adult. When they separate, Madeleine slips an arm around her shoulders and grins.

"So" she starts over the music. "Gossip about Rafe Cameron that nobody knows?"

Richie blinks, amused, and smiles back, shrugging to her friend's question. She knows Madeline wouldn't ever tell anyone what Richie would say to her, but the future bride thinks of it and there's very little that Rafe lets out when they are alone. Like he's in a constant defensive situation.

"Not really" she admits in the end. "He's pretty much what you see. Harsh, cold and annoying Rafe that thinks to know everything about everyone. But he listens"

"He listens" Madeleine repeats the girl's words, but seems unimpressed. For Richie, when she talks and Rafe is quiet listening to what she has to say, it's important. "What else"

"He's touchy" the words come out before Richie can think of it, before she can decide to hold them to herself. So when she sees Madeleine blinking at her, like she's surprised, but waits for to keep talking, Richie does. "In a nice way. Must be something with his family being, you know-"

"The kind of family unable to show any kind love and affection?" Madeleine asks, but she's clearly thinking about it more than what she gives away: Richie knows she has a complicated relationship with her dad, the only parent left, so if there's someone that understands looking for love in places where it's hard to find, that's Madeleine. "He craves it"

Richie nods. "Don't tell anyone"

The other thinks of it, before nodding. "Not a word" then she smiles, back to reality. "Anything else? Anything spicy?"

Richie's eyebrows furrow, before laughing nervously, because, well, Rafe and her didn't get there but others don't know that. So she has to keep an appearance and it means with Madeleine too. "Not a word"

"Why?" Madeleine asks, faking an offense. "We always say those kinds of things. Like when you gave an handjob to John McCain after prom and he proposed to-"

"Yeah, but now we're talking about my future husband" Richie interrupts her and she tastes the word husband maybe for the first time on her tongue. She doesn't think she ever said it aloud. "I'll tell those, if things won't end up well"

Madeleine doesn't say anything about it, but nods as she takes a deep breath, starting walking out of the kitchen. Richie is always under her arm. Squeezed to her side. "Do you think it's real? That sexist and straight way to say about boys pulling the pigtails of the girls they like?"

"Rafe didn't pull at my pigtails because he liked me" Richie says and he doesn't like me at all, appearing in her mind like a thunder during the calm. "It was a recent thing"

"He told you that?" Madeleine asks, but before anyone can add or answer, the crowd of people around them moves in a weird way, like they are avoiding something and making space in the huge living room of the house. The two friends exchange a stare. Someone notices Richie then and the glances they give her give shivers down her spine and bad, bad, feelings about what's going on.

Reality punches her when she asks to pass through the bodies and finally everything is shown to her. The girl's jaw squeezes, when a Madeleine behind her asks: "Touchy, uh?".

Rafe has always been a violent person, someone that got into fights that he was usually the one to initiate, because he wanted or said so. He started them for stupid reasons, really, whether it was for something the other unfortunate said or didn't say, did or didn't do. You never knew what Rafe would use to start a fight and it cost him several suspensions, but never an expulsion from the Academy and it was just because Ward knew how to make his money circulate around that place.

Now, Richie would tell she's surprised to see Rafe bending over John B Rutledge, knees against the marble floor of the house, and Topper Thornton helping him holding the boy down. Not much distant, John B's best friend, JJ Maybank, is being dragged away from Kelce Smith's by another Pogues kid, Pope Heyward. At first Richie thinks it's a dumb Kooks versus Pogue kind of fight, the classist ones that Rafe likes so much to get himself into and that lately he picks with his new younger friends next to him, Topper and Kelce, but then Richie sees Sarah and Kiara Carrera -by now, both Kooks turned Pogues- try to divide the fight and Richie knows it's not just about social classes. Also about that, but not only. It's personal and she's asked to pick a side in this, when Sarah sees her in the crowd, eyes wide, and walks towards Richie in big steps.

"Stop your fucking crazy boyfriend" it's not really a question and the other finds those words almost funny coming from Sarah.

"He's your brother" she reminds the blonde girl and almost laughs, but she doesn't though.

"Well, it hasn't been exactly my choice" Sarah's words are high, urgent and annoying and, even though Richie finds them painful to hear, she thinks that they are also true. "You choose him. Now get him off my boyfriend"

"I'm gonna kill him" are Richie's last words, after a moment of contemplation and a deep sigh. Then she takes a breath that should give her some sort of courage and marches with long steps into the space people left so the fight could happen. She walks past Pope dividing JJ and Kelce and goes straight towards Rafe and Topper, feeling herself followed by Sarah like a shadow, ready to follow Richie's actions if she's gonna do what she just said. Before they can reach for the three other boys, Kiara jumps on Topper's back forcing him to back away from the John B kid and it gives a way for Richie to sneak at Rafe's back.

Maybe it's not a smart move, appearing out of nowhere behind someone whose first instincts are to answer to everything with violence, but Richie has very little time to think before Rafe's arm lifts so he can give another punch to the other boy's face. Richie grabs the older one's bicep and then slips her arm around it: the attempt is weak, but instead of trying to punch John B, the boy is busy freeing himself from whoever is trying to hold him back. He tries a couple of times, her using as much force as she owns, when Rafe miscalculates the force -or maybe it's his intentions, as he tries to get rid of whoever is gripping him- and he hits Richie's. At the beginning, she doesn't feel anything, just her head empty before starting to whistle lowly, then she tastes blood. On her lips, inside her mouth.

It's not like she has much time to do or say anything, she just walks backwards enough for her to add distance between her and the scene, to see Sarah pushing a confused Rafe away and helping her boyfriend on his feet, then she asks Richie if she's okay. She seems unsure between leaving John B and checking on her, or staying in her place and making sure that her group of friends that is slowly compacting again can make it out of that place. Richie doesn't answer her, neither does Madeline when she runs where she's standing and tells her something about her nose, trying to check her face. But Richie's too busy touching her mouth and seeing her hand dirty, before looking up and holding Rafe's wide stare, who just realized what happened. For the first time, he's showing something that says he's sorry. For real. He opens his mouth, expression shifting from apprehension to rage, when she interrupts his attempt.

"You're a mess" it's all she tells him and she's not even sure he hears her, the music still filling the house. She doesn't care, she simply turns and walks away.

Richie is not sure how long she stays in the bathroom of that stranger's house, head back to stop the blood dropping down and tons of dirty toilet paper spread in the nearby sink. She thinks the blood stopped rolling down for a while, which means that probably she's okay, but the more she tries to clean, the more it looks like she's making a mess on her face, of blood and paper. Madeleine knocks two or three times and Richie tells her that she's fine, when her friend asks her to open the door and let her in.

The truth is that Richie suddenly doesn't thinks she's fine: she thought she was doing okay an hour prior and really good when her best friend apologized, finally ending that stupid fight started at Kat's engagement party, but now she feels like shit. Richie's moods are always changing, she's someone that may not show it, but she feels every change around her like a change of heart. If something goes wrong all suddenly, she starts falling, if something goes right, she can feel like flying: she's not the type of person to think it's going bad, but it will get better, there's no way in between, except I just want to crawl in bed for days and I can do everything. Like when Rafe asked to marry him the first time and her mood dropped so low, that she refused to face everyone, building a wall between her and the rest of the world for two whole days. She didn't expect it, it surprised her, so he didn't have the time to ponder.

Another knock asks her to probably open the door and it makes her flinch, because it's been a while since Madeleine's last one and now she didn't expect it. She sniffs, nose burning a little, when she says she's fine. Again.

"It's me" a voice tells her and Richie doesn't need the person behind the door to introduce themselves. Even with the distant music, she knows it's Rafe.

"Go away" she tells him, raising her voice so she's sure he hears her.

A moment of pause. "Listen, I-" if they would be close, or without the music still in distance, she would hear him sighing, but there are many feet between them, a closed door and The Weeknd singing in the air. "Can you open the door?"

"I said, go away"

Now, as she looks at the reflection on the bathroom mirror, she tries to clean up herself again, from the caked blood and the nervous tears as well, conscious she has to go out and face Rafe, Madeleine and the rest of the world. Eventually. She's so focused on the woman looking back at her, trying to make her look better than she actually feels, that Richie doesn't even hear the door clicking open, until it's too late. The key she turned to separate herself from the rest of the house turns and, a moment later, Rafe appears in her view.

"I told you-" she starts, but he's already stepping inside and closing the door at his back. "I don't even want to know how or why you know how to open a door that is supposed to be locked"

He shows her a credit card, like it's an answer, before pulling out his wallet from the pocket of his jeans and put the object in its place. He puts the wallet where it belongs too, inside his trousers, when he says "When you live with the Camerons there are always a lot of closed doors, that you're not supposed to enter" and his tone is softer, as he looks up at her. Richie tries to not get it under her skin.

"Well, I didn't want you here" she tells him, trying to sound angry. She is, but he looks like he's really about to apologize and this makes her uncomfortable. She's not used to it and, mostly, she doesn't want to make a habit out of it: Rafe knowing that he can get to Richie just through words and her letting him do so.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" he starts getting close, tall and broader shoulders covered in a fancy polo, when Richie takes a step back and Rafe notices. It makes him stop.

"You did" she tells, voice lower than she meant to be. "You always do"

Hurt me. Hurt people. She doesn't need to say it aloud. In fact, Rafe's eyebrows furrow, when his blue eyes look down and it's clear that he knows what she's talking about: she's talking about all the time he told and made things to her, about everything he let her go through during the years in school, when he thought he had the right to make her feel bad for what she wore, how she looked, what she said to pretend she didn't care. He's not a better person now, he just beat up someone and his hands were dirty of a guy's blood until a couple of minutes prior, when he cleaned them in the kitchen sink, but twenty years of looking for love and affection, to find just a distant father and superficial relationships built through the time, gave him something to think of. He wouldn't call it an epiphany, but the desperation mixed with sadness he saw in Richie's eyes at Midsummer, made him reflect about him looking the same and not wanting to. He didn't want to live hoping that someone would have loved him angry like that, so he told himself that, maybe, if Richie would have accepted that crazy plan of getting married for convenience, he would have done something to actually give others a reason to like him. He can't have his father's love because the man simply refuses to hear Rafe's requests, but he can make him happier through hard work and the arranged marriage. On the other hand, he can still make something about finding someone able to fill the emptiness he feels when he comes to love and be loved. Richie is a solid presence now, he asked her because it was convenient for her too and more likely to accept, but looking at her now he knows she is a good choice because when she knows what she wants, she hardly change her mind: many times through those past weeks she didn't hold back about telling no, starting with their marriage deal, and Rafe needs someone able to not accept everything he says, want, or wish. She's a strong presence to which Rafe is learning to fit and adapt, instead of fighting with, as he used to. Fights never brought him anywhere, even less love or respect: the one with John B in the living room is a proof and he realizes it in Richie's face. She didn't predict it and now it's scaring her.

"I'm trying to not" he mutters in the end and when Richie's stare gets sharper, he takes a breath to not snap. His eyes fly around her face, the tired eyes and the caked blood. "It's just difficult"

"It's not a valid excuse" for being a poor person. He nods. "You can't hurt people and then say I'm trying, but it's difficult. At some point people stop to believe it, when you give just violence after violence"

"I don't want to give just violence" he whispers. "I don't want anymore"

"That's what it looks like when people look at you" she tells him, voice cold and looks down as she says so. "Violent words. Violent actions. You're walking anger, incapable to be contained"

"I'm-" he stops, knowing that if he's gonna say I'm trying, she's gonna be the one to fairly get violent this time. So, when she looks up with a challenging expression, he holds it back, but he's getting nervous and his flinching hands give him away. "I'm sorry about everything. About the past years and about hitting you. Won't happen again"

"What if it will" it's not really a question, for Richie is a fear, for Rafe an accusation. "Are you high, Rafe?"

His eyes widen, more than they already are now that Richie is holding his stare so close, like he can't believe she is asking him that. But when he opens his mouth to answer, something holds him back from lying. She knows the truth the moment his lips close in a tiny line.

"I thought I could make it, but-"

"Let me help you clean up" he interrupts, suddenly and abruptly, taking her face in his hands and moving it so he can look up. They both know what they are doing: he's buying time and trying to earn her trust back (if it ever existed) and she's thinking about breaking up with him. Can two people break up if they aren't really together? Rafe wonders, feeling the anger and the annoyance growing stronger, even though he tries to calm down. "Let me do it"

"Rafe-"

"I'm an expert, okay?" he tells her, giving a look to her nose, that seems okay. It makes him feel lighter, almost relieved, when he lets go of her freckled face and gently pushes her towards the sink, then he makes space on the nearby marble counter and pats the space on it, inviting her to take a seat. He sees Richie's expression contracting and frowning, clearly doubtful, but he interrupts her. "Who do you think helped me clean myself after a fight through all those years? Myself. Sometimes Wheezie would have come to see if I was okay, but it was mostly me"

She doesn't agree, not with words, but after a moment of contemplation of his concerned and sincere face, she quietly sits and waits. Her hand grabs the hem of her top for the whole time, squeezed in fists around the textile, but she has to admit he's good at it.

At the beginning, when he grabs a towel and wet it, ordering her to not push her head back, she questions his advice, but after a glance to his face, she decides to trust him fully and follows his words. He's gentle as he cleans her, meticulous and careful to not rub the towel too rough or too long on the same spot: it needs Richie a couple of instants to actually relax, but eventually she lets the hem of her top a bit and her muscles stop being tense. What were you scared of?, she questions herself, as her eyelids fly partially close and she looks at Rafe's features through her eyelashes. She isn't sure to know her answer, as she contemplates if she's maybe more scared of the future than the present, in that bathroom.

"It won't happen again" he whispers after a while, face so close that Richie can hear the alcohol. She refrains herself from the need to pull away.

"It's not how it works" the girl answers with a matching tone. A low, sad one. "You tell me now, high and drunk, and you'll do it tomorrow again. And I-" a pause, when she sees Rafe swallowing and then something else she has never seen in twenty years: are his eyes lucid? "I don't want to find myself on the other side of your ager and your drugs"

"I-" he seems short of words. Then he closes his eyes and suddenly he takes Richie by the nape of her neck -a gesture he does a lot, she started to notice lately- and pushes their forehead together. He takes his time before talking and she lets him do so, daring to close her eyes as well. "Don't leave me. Everyone does"

"Don't give me a reason to" she mutters, swallowing the need to cry a little and feeling overwhelmed by the fact he's talking to her about something she's sure he wouldn't have admitted a month prior. How far they moved on without her noticing it? Weren't they telling each other that they weren't even friends? Just business partners? "I love my family and I was doing it for them, but if you're gonna get high and angry all the time, maybe we shouldn't, Rafe. Get married"

"No, no" he presses their forehead more, opening suddenly his eyes hearing Richie's words. "I'll get better"

"What if you don't?" she asks and Rafe shivers at the fear in her voice. Did he do that? "You're always been angry, Rafe, and I said yes anyway. But what if it was a mistake? I don't want to end up in an abusive relationship. This hasn't already the healthiest of the starts"

He could not hear Richie, but just looks at her to know she's not sure, that she's confused by something she hasn't clearly planned and not overthink about, so he's conscious to actually have a chance to make her change her mind. He doesn't want to screw up, so when he kisses Richie and breathes in, she falls completely for his promises and he thinks he's just too desperate for love to let her down.

A good eye would catch that something is wrong. That the two people everyone at the party is supposed to celebrate are tiptoeing around each other like two strangers, that suddenly found out they'll be promised to one another forever. But Richie and Rafe aren't strangers, once even friends, now something more than business partners that sometimes kiss when they are alone, when they have no one to put up a play for. The problem is, now, that they are at their own engagement party and they haven't seen or heard from the other for a whole week.

During the entry night, they talk politely with other people and to each other when in front of friends, old classmates, relatives, or their families' acquaintances, but never when they are alone. Actually, they avoid finding themselves just the two of them and, if it happens, it's so brief that being able to stay in silence isn't even that difficult, before someone comes up to talk with them or congratulate them about the marriage. They smile. Everyone seems a bit too thrilled about the wedding set in December and Richie realizes it just that night, the first one since Kat's engagement party, that she and Rafe face all the people from the OBX that will attend the wedding at once. She isn't sure they are thrilled because they are genuinely interested in the union of two of the most prominent and rich families of the island, or because they are betting on how long they're gonna last before asking for divorce. Or killing each other. Both are fair options.

Richie is holding the stare of Matt Brum, a couple of feet away, and watching him laughing about something with another old classmate: they had to talk, act civilly, and even Rafe had to pretend he liked the guy, who actually never earned his sympathy. How Richie predicted the moment her eyes noticed him at the beginning of the night, he made a comment about the new weird couple. He had been in college for part of the summer and described himself to Richie and Rafe surprised, when he heard the news, back to OBX for a brief holiday. I won't make it to the big day in December, I suppose he told them, pretending sadness, when the girl assured it was fine and Rafe suppressed a scoff.

After that brief exchange, they fortunately parted ways, but now Richie is staring at him like she would like to cut his head off, when Rafe interrupts her thoughts. She doesn't know if he saw her staring deadly at her old school enemy, because when he talks and she turns towards him, during one of those moments alone, he's looking everywhere except at her.

"Let's get dance" he tells Richie, with a tone that clearly indicates he is repeating it again. He doesn't look annoyed by her distraction and she's too surprised by the request after a week of radio silence, to roll her eyes at the fact that he never asks her to do something. He proposes it, like formulating a question might cost his life.

She's walking next to him, among familiar bodies, a moment later, her hand warm in Rafe's, as he took hers to lead the way. When they reach for some free space, he lifts their linked hands mid air, almost squeezed between their chest, as his free arm slips around Richie's waist. The girl's one holds gently on his shoulder, fingers around the nape of his neck where his short hair meets her fingertips, when she realizes they are pressed together and closer than they have been in a whole week. His face is a lot tired.

"Are you okay?" she finds herself asking and his eyes drop from hers, vaguely to her necklace, avoiding her stare. He nods.

"Yeah" he mutters.

"You look awful" she tells him, honest and sincere, blinking when his jaw squeezes and he probably feels caught up in the middle of something bad. "You look tired"

"A rough couple of days" he admits, but his tone is dismissive, almost like he would like her to think about something else. Sometimes more important.

But Richie knows how to deal with situations, if she had plenty of time to think of, and she had a whole week to think about Rafe, the party, Rafe again, his words. She's not unprepared, so she has very little to get in the middle of her thoughts, she won't let fear have the best. "That's why you have been ignoring me for the past week?"

He sighs, because maybe she hasn't been the only interrogating herself about the other, them, what they said. "Yeah"

"At least you're being honest" she mutters, letting him lead their slow dance, chest against chest, feet that start to get coordinated without them even trying to. She thinks about all the texts she sent him, after he didn't get in touch at all or came to her workplace for the first two days of the week, and she didn't know what to think. But after being ignored, she started to get many ideas. Watching him now, she might have a more concrete one. "What's going on"

"Doing what I promised" he whispers and his head bends a little towards her, almost shyly, unsure if she's gonna do the same. Richie does and their foreheads almost touch, their breath mixes. He relaxes at her gesture and, if possible, his grip gets stronger around her waist. More sure, without feeling like he's caging her, in fact, she relaxes as well.

"Are you-" she starts, but her voice cracks and she needs a second or two to sound steady again. "Are you clean?"

Rafe doesn't answer straight away, he just keeps leading her in a slow dance that feels like a lullaby and holds her like she's a solid safe rock in a tormented ocean. His eyes are still down, forehead always closer to Richie's, as their skins now touch with the slightest of the movement. Eventually, he takes a breath and a dose of courage. "I asked you, because I watched you, sitting at the counter of the Golf Club, drinking your anger and sadness and I realized that we are more similar than we like to admit. And I didn't want to look like that. Like I hate the world and the world hates me. When I asked you the first time, I didn't have much time to think about it, maybe it was my subconscious acting. I just asked you. But when I asked the second time, I saw many opportunities in this marriage"

Richie whispers next, eyes lucid from his tone. It scares her, because she never heard him more serious than that. "Like what"

"The one you know about already. Make our families proud, tie each other into business even more than we already are. You said you want to expand in the south once and that your dad doesn't agree, but I can help you with that" he says and when Richie told Madeleine that Rafe is good at listening, that's what she meant. She thinks now she told him once, maybe during a lunch laying in the chairs out of her office balcony, but he remembers anyway. She can't even remember how the conversation went, to be honest, and now she tries to recall it, but Rafe talks again. And Richie gets distracted. "The other opportunity is the one I imposed myself to accomplish if you would have told me yes. I know I sounded like I didn't care about love or getting married, that I thought that Kat's falling in love with a stranger and marrying him after two months together was bullshit, but I don't think any of that. I want to be loved, Richie, I want a family and to be a better person than everyone in mine has ever been to me. When I came to you the second time, I told myself that if you would have told me yes, after all I did to you growing up, I would have tried to be the better person I promised myself to be, so someone could fall in love with me"

"You can be that, without marrying me, Rafe" Richie doesn't think she has ever cried so openly in front of everyone, but now she doesn't even care about the fact it's not just Rafe, but everyone at the party can turn and spot her tears. She almost slips away from the boy, but he needs just the smallest of the pressure for her to stay. "You don't have to marry me. You can find someone else to be loved by and to love"

"That's the thing-" he shares with her, stopping for a moment, before deciding it's now or never. "The more we went forward, the more I realized I might want to marry you because of all the things I said, but also because I knew I might fall in love with you, after all. Not someone else"

"Rafe-"

"But if you don't think you want this" he continues, swallowing when Richie looks up and he's forced to bear her stare. "If you don't think you can fall in love with me too, because I've been a monster to you and I know that a part of you will hate me forever for this, I want you to tell me now. Because I'm not sure at this point I'm that good at pretending much more than this"

Richie feels again like she could throw up, crawl in bed for days and cry all her tears, pouring her soul out of her body. Instead, she just stands there, mouth shut and her hand in Rafe's that would fall weightless, if he would be the one to hold it thigh. Until he doesn't anymore, because he feels the arm that Richie slipped around his shoulders falling slowly and her body stiffening in his arm. Rafe is not stupid, he doesn't need to look into her big wide eyes to know she doesn't reciprocate his feelings. It's written on her face: this -what's happening- isn't something she contemplated, which in Rafe's mind echoes like a silent rejection. Whether he's wrong or not, he doesn't even consider wasting his time and analyzing it, because he lets go of Richie and rush away. His pride is hurt, but he knew it could have happened the moment he started talking and can he blame her for not wanting to give him a second chance? Maybe it's even the third, he's asking her to take: the second was the one where she actually accepted to marry him, out of pure convenience, when she had all the right to reject him back then.

Rafe walks so fast, among the bodies filling the space at his own engagement party, that he doesn't hear his dad calling him, as he rushes away from the villa where it has been organized. He doesn't have the emotional stability to actually realize how weird it is for him to leave her future crying wife in the middle of the dance, or the fact that she won't marry him after all and that no wedding will be celebrated. He can only focus on his chest rising spasmodically, but unable to actually control it and give him some peace.

He can only scold himself for giving himself that bit of hope, to think that she might reciprocate. Or considering his feelings. His feet move without him realizing where he's going, but breathing the air outside just once leaving the place behind. It feels good and bad at the same time, it feels like he hates everything, but it's better this way: he wouldn't have to bear it, if he would have gone further and understood he didn't stand a chance just once he would have been drowning in his own pathetic feelings for too long. When he sits in his expensive car, buttons of his shirt too close around his neck, he asks himself why he doesn't look for the keys and start the engine. He sits there, instead, and looks in front of him for who knows how long.

"It's not really nice to leave your own engagement party" a voice calls him suddenly, louder than Rafe's dad calling his son, maybe because now he's sitting alone, in a quiet place, without having a hundred eyes on him and his body ready to run. Away for good. And Rafe doesn't need to turn to recognize who the person is, but he does anyway and Richie is standing there, out of the driver door, hands fidgeting between each other and eyes red and puffed. She talks through the window of the car that hasn't been rolled down already, giving the scene a state of temporary. "You could give the wrong idea. Like, that we are breaking up or something"

Rafe blinks, once, then twice, his mouth shut and probably looking like a fool, staring at her like he can quite understand why she's there. Why did she follow him outside? Why would she care if people think they are breaking up? They are, aren't they? Rafe blinks again and maybe not, he finds himself thinking and welcoming that thought like a breath of fresh air. He ponders his next words, not sure if he want to ask her if he got it right -the meaning behind her words- and not wanting to have his heart broken again, while he must look dumb. He actually needs another moment of contemplation, when he decides to look for his key and turn it inside the lock of the engine enough to roll down the driver window, but not fully start the car. He doesn't feel like opening the door completely or going away, but the glass now turned down, it's a good way to find himself halfway between protecting himself, or trust Richie and her words.

"Want to, huh, don't know, leave with me so they'll think we're actually getting away to do something romantic instead?" it's bold, Rafe knows it is, but he can't help but blurts it out, feeling like he's under scrutiny. He hopes he won't fail the test. Then Richie swallows. "So they'll think we didn't break up, or something"

"Our parents will get so mad at us" Richie answers, but he sees a cracked smile on her lip covered by a light lipstick.

"They'll always find a way to be mad at us" he tells her, now growing comfortable with her doing the same and daring to lean on the edge of the rolled down window. Arms crossed and the jacket of his suit that stretches as he does so. "We could go to eat in that place you like, the one near The Cut "

"French fries?" Richie asks.

Rafe nods, heart bursting in joy, but without giving away too much. "Fries. Tons of them. And whatever you want to. You owe me a date after all, don't you?"

"I do" she whispers and a moment later she's walking forward, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pressing their forehead together. It's not violent, but feels almost like it soaks in desperation. "Please, be the better person you promise yourself to be. I couldn't bear-"

"I promise"

Richie weighs his words for a long moment, eyes in eyes when she finally takes the last step and kisses him.

Don't leave, everyone does.

Don’t give me a reason to.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x kook!reader #obx #outer banks #outer banks fic #obx fic

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sundaysundaes · 3 years

Text

Monochrome

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader/Female OC | Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff | NC-17 | Soulmate AU, Childhood-Friends-Become-Lovers AU

CHAPTER 1 OF 2. Part 2, titled Spectra, can be read here.

Summary: Lee Donghyuck once believed in the concept of soulmates—how fate would connect a red thread from one lover to another, in a form of dreams and memories. That was how his parents met, that was how they claimed their happiness, and he wanted nothing more but to live his life the way they lived theirs. Until one day, as he sees her slipping away from his hands, he has no choice but to stop believing entirely.

It was the color of amaranth red, Donghyuck remembers now, though he was still too young back then to know the name. It was the color of amaranth red that painted her cheeks and the tip of her nose as they were kissed by the morning breeze. It was the color of amaranth red that tinted her shoes, her knitted sweater dress, the two ribbons she wore on her hair. And it was the color of amaranth red that burst onto his cheeks, as his eyes widened in both glee, curiosity, and sheer excitement. He was four years old and she was five, but the way she spoke so courteously as she introduced herself upon their first meeting was something little Donghyuck could only imagine doing.

But it didn’t matter, Donghyuck was too distracted anyway. If he was older maybe he would’ve been left dumbfounded at the sight of her breathtaking smile, or the perfect curves of her lips, or the vibrant eyes she had hidden behind her symmetrical bangs. But he was merely a four-year-old, so he was more distracted with a jar full of chocolate cookies she carried in her arms.

“We’re the family that’s just moved in next door.” The older lady, who looked like the exact doppelgänger of the little girl, mentioned with a polite smile and a formal bow. “I hope we can become friends.”

Donghyuck’s mother cheered and took her hand in a friendly handshake before she beckoned the little girl to come closer. “Oh my, look at how adorable you are! You’re about the same age as my son. I hope you two can get along.”

Donghyuck, who had been hiding behind his mother’s legs, took a step forward. He was only interested in the jar full of cookies that she carried in her arms, licking his lips once as his eyes bore into it. But when the little girl offered the jar, grinning widely from ear-to-ear, and chirped, “Brought you some cookies! I helped my mother with these so I bet they’ll taste great!”, Donghyuck decided that he liked her more.

It was the color of azure, the crayon she held between her fingers back then, as she tried to imitate the look of his clothes on a stick figure. She was quite a painter, four-year-old Donghyuck thought, because there was no way for him to know how to draw mountains and the sun lurking behind them with that little head of his.

“Okay, so this is you,” she told him, smiling to herself as she finished perfecting her sketches of him. “And this is me. And this is our pet dog, Jelly Bean.”

“But we don’t have a dog.”

“We can have one in the future.”

“We can?”

“Of course. When we grow up, we can have whatever we want.”

Donghyuck believed her. He believed everything she said because she believed everything he said, even about the monsters living under his bed that his parents completely ignored. During their sleepovers, which occurred nearly three times a week in his room, she would always stand by as a guard, saying, “I’ll keep watch. If it appears, I will destroy it with my sword. Nothing can hurt you when I’m around.” And he would feel content, knowing she was there to protect him, even when in the end she fell asleep way before he did with her toy sword hanging loosely around her fingers.

Donghyuck would sleep next to her, curling up like a baby that he was, seeking her warmth. Their little feet would dangle out of his teepee tent and he would breathe in the scent of his grapefruit shampoo from her hair. And secretly, under his breath, as he tangled his pinky finger around hers, Donghyuck would say, “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

“Why do you always draw the sun?” Donghyuck questioned one day with his round, chocolate brown eyes scanning the giant yellow circle that she drew repeatedly with her crayon.

“Because I love the sun,” she answered, searching for another yellow crayon so she could paint it even more. “It’s bright and it’s warm, and I can play outside when it’s out. Don’t you feel happier when it’s sunny outside?”

Donghyuck thought about it, he really did with the very little experience that he had. “Probably. I can play soccer when it’s sunny.”

“See? The sun is amazing. Nothing can beat the sun. Do you know that the sun is the biggest star in our solar system?”

If he was smarter, he would've told her that of course, it's the biggest star, you idiot, it's the only star in our solar system. But little Donghyuck, who could barely remember what came after the letter S, innocently asked, “What’s a solar system?”

She sighed, shaking her head. “I forgot that you’re only four.”

“Hey, you’re only five!”

“But I know what a solar system is and you don’t.”

Donghyuck pouted. If only he was older, perhaps he could reciprocate with a better argument. But then again, she was quite smart—the smartest girl he had ever met. Well, in his whole four years of living anyway.

“You’re kinda like the sun, actually,” she suggested, gathering his attention back to her. “You have a bright smile and whenever you smile, you make me want to smile too. You’re like the sun because you always make me happy. Oh!” She suddenly jabbed one finger into the air, making him jump on his little feet. “I know! You should be called Haechan, as in Full Sun! And I’ll be calling you Haechannie because we’re friends.”

And Donghyuck smiled the way he always smiled, which made her point a finger to his face, shouting, “Yes, that’s it! That’s the smile! That’s my Haechannie!” And he liked the sound of it. He liked the way she called him Haechannie but not as much as he liked being called hers.

Because he’s always been hers, from the beginning of time till the end. It’s always been her who owns his heart, who paints a spectrum of colors to his monochromatic life, and who breaks his soul to pieces and tones everything down into black and white.

It’s always been her. No one else owns him but her.

***

It was apple green, the color of the duster his mother was wearing when she had her eyes glued to the TV screen, watching another episode of her most awaited romance series. It was way past their bedtime so Donghyuck performed his best ninja skill which was tiptoeing his way out of his room with his bunny socks enveloping his feet and his deer plush toy accompanying him in his arms.

He was five and she was six, but she had learned how to forgive when he could barely remember to send an apology after making a mistake.

“You stay here and be on guard, okay, Haechannie?” She whispered before she tiptoed her way to the kitchen, leaving him alone in the hallway.

He grabbed the sleeve of her rosy pink pajamas. “But what if my mom finds out?”

“She won’t find out. She’s busy watching TV.”

“What if she walks into the kitchen?”

“Then that’s the time you should give me a signal, Haechannieeeee. Will you ever listen to me?”

“I don’t wanna stay alone. Mom can be scary sometimes.”

“Ugh, fine, take my hand. We’ll get in together. You can help me hold my chair when I reach up to steal those cookies.”

“Can we just go back to bed? I don’t need any cookies.”

“No, no. When you have nightmares, you have to eat cookies.”

“But will you still sleep beside me?”

A delicate hand ruffled his raven hair until it got all tousled and adorable. “Of course, Haechannie.”

The moonlight did not shine as bright as the girl’s cherished smile. But it was okay, he thought, she could replace the moon with her lips. She could replenish the stars with her eyes. They did not sparkle nearly as beautiful as they were anyway.

On their way back to their room, Donghyuck heard two sentences being exchanged by the lovers inside the screen so he stopped and listened, carving every word into his memories. When he arrived back in his room, he ran toward her, circled his short little arms around her waist, and muttered the exact same words.

“There’s no life without you, Noona.”

And she didn’t question him anything, wasn’t surprised of him, wasn’t disgusted with it. She simply smiled back, turning around to embrace him properly, and whispered.

“There’s no life without you too, Haechannie.”

***

It was the color of cherry blossom pink, the petals of flowers that flown into his room, coming from the window that he just slid open. He stood up on his little wooden chair, waving his hands back and forth like a drowning man desperate for attention, as he shouted, “Noona! Wake up! They’re blooming!”

He was six and she was seven, but she had memorized how to count one to ten in three different languages when he could barely count all the planets in the solar system.

When she opened her window, her eyes were all squinted trying their best to adjust themselves to the brightness of the sun—or Donghyuck’s smile, considering it shone just as bright. “I’m still sleepy!”

“But you promised we’d go for a walk!”

“Ugh, fine! I’ll meet you outside my house in an hour. Don’t forget to wear your jacket, Haechannie, because I’m not lending mine again!”

He nodded, smiling all the way. But by an hour later, he had forgotten yet again to carry his coat with him because he was too busy remembering the look on her face whenever she called his name, and too excited to have her hold his hands during their little trip outside.

And it was fine, really, because she already brought two jackets with her, knowing him like the back of her hand.

***

It was the color of crimson, the droplets of blood that stained his shirt. He could barely breathe through his broken nose, and the pain stung so much that his eyes began to water. But knowing that she was there, sitting beside him on the side of the pavements with worried eyes observing his expression, he had no other choice but to rub his tears away before she could catch the sight of them falling to his cheeks.

He was twelve and she was thirteen, but she already had her own preferences of clothing, knowing exactly what kind of dress could accentuate her beauty, while he, on the other hand, was still pretty much wearing the exact same type of clothes like what his mother bought him two years ago.

“Are you okay?” Her eyes examined his face as she dabbed an ice-cold napkin to his bruised jaw. Donghyuck swatted her hand away, stealing the piece of cloth from her fingers so he could do it himself.

“I’m fine. I’m not a baby,” he muttered and he knew how harsh the tone he was using but he did not apologize for it. She most likely had forgiven him anyway.

“What happened exactly?” She was still tentatively reaching out to him, tidying the tousled strands of his brown hair. “Why did you get into a fight?”

“Who said I was in a fight?” He was. He absolutely was. It was against a boy with the stupidest haircut he’d ever seen on a male, in his classroom after he caught him stealing her sketchbook. Donghyuck saw him raking his pen back and forth on her drawings, grinning mischievously to himself as he did it. He didn’t stop to ask for an explanation. The second he saw her beautiful drawings get tainted by something that wasn’t made from her hands, he began to launch his fist, directly to the boy’s poor face. Donghyuck had always been more temperamental, so he fought more with his rage than his strength, which usually ended up with him getting a fair share of beating as well.

“Here.” He handed her sketchbook back and saw her widening her eyes in surprise. “That’s right, stupid. You forgot your stupid book. I was on my way back to the class to get it when I tripped down the stairs.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize I even took this out of my bag.” She blinked, checking her book and stopping after she flipped a few pages. Donghyuck froze on his seat. He’d already predicted that she would find out sooner or later that one of her pages—the one that was ruined by that asshole—was missing; he just hoped she wouldn’t notice right away. But maybe she also noticed the anxious look on his face when she went through the pages, which was why she decided to close the book, and do nothing but smile that stupidly blazing smile of hers.

“What?” He asked, already feeling quite flustered even when she hadn’t said anything yet.

“I’m just happy,” she replied, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for, uhh, for getting this back for me.”

And he looked up to the sky, not caring if the sunlight was burning every inch of his skin and blinding his eyes, as long as she didn’t notice the rosy blush that painted his cheeks.

***

It was the color of lemon meringue, the chunk of tart that Donghyuck shoved into his mouth. They were celebrating his fourteenth birthday and he had a bunch of friends coming over. And yet, there he was sitting on the bench in his backyard, next to a girl dressed adorably in a yellow lace party dress, who was scowling at him.

“What?” Donghyuck muttered, yet plopping another big chunk of the tart. “Why do you look like you want to murder me? Is it that time of the month already?”

“No, jackass.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s my tart.”

“Sure, but,” he pierced the cake with his fork, taking another piece into his mouth with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “It’s my birthday cake.”

She sighed—a habit that she did a lot whenever she was with him. “Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be opening the presents right now? I think your friends are looking for you.”

“Nah, I’d rather talk to you.” He shrugged, pushing the empty plate back now to its owner. “Besides, you look like you’re seconds away from crying. I figured I can be a jerk to you another day and play the role of your prince charming for the rest of the evening.”

“You literally just ate every bit of my tart.”

“You’re welcome.” He sent her a flying kiss and a wink.

They both leaned backward, resting their spines against the bench, staring blankly at the cloudy sky with their fingers lying idly just a few inches from each other.

“Have you heard about that thing with our soulmates?” Donghyuck suddenly asked, his tongue still tracing every little bit of the sugary taste left inside his mouth. “About how we’ll begin to constantly dream about them after we turn eighteen, even if we’ve never met them before.”

“I thought that was just a rumor?”

“I thought so too, but then my parents told me that the exact same thing happened to them.”

“They met each other in their dreams?”

“No, it’s like—” Donghyuck scratched the back of his head, furrowing his eyebrows. “I don’t know for sure, but it’s like your dreams are a mixture of your soulmate’s past and present memories. My mother said that she lived through his memories every night, until one day she met my father by coincidence during the day, and then she saw herself in the dream the following night. That was when she realized that he was her soulmate.”

“This is giving me headaches, but I kinda get the idea.”

“So whose memories do you think you’re going to see in your dream?” Donghyuck wiggled his eyebrows. “Mine?”

She snorted. “You wish your soulmate was me.”

“Actually, I do,” he stated, making her froze for a split second before she looked at him in bewilderment. “No, wait, don’t get me wrong,” he immediately corrected, raising a hand in the air. “It’s not like I’m into you or anything, ‘cause that’s, like, so gross since we’re basically like siblings by now, but if it really is true—this soulmate thingy—I wouldn’t mind if it turns out to be you because we get along really well, don’t we? Being soulmates doesn’t necessarily mean we have to marry each other—eww, God, no—” He made a show about it, sticking his tongue out in disgust. “It’s more like saying we’re connected. Know each other’s mind—like, we understand each other, you know what I mean? Don’t you feel that way about me?”

She thought about it, and with every second passing by, Donghyuck became more aware of how embarrassing his lines sounded in his ears. “You know what? Forget it. It’s dumb. I don’t know why I said—”

“Well, I guess, if you put it in a non-romantic way, then yeah, sure.” She smiled, a bit awkward and shy but sincere like always. “We can be soulmates. But I will only marry you if we’re the only two people left in the world. And even then, I would still think about it.”

He rolled his eyes but inwardly thanking her for not making this even more awkward than it already was. “Right, but for our friendship’s sake, let’s never talk about this again.”

“Agreed.”

They stood by in silence, hearing a bunch of children laughing in the background as they danced to the blaring music. “So on that note,” he said again, slicing through the awkward tension. “What are you so upset about today?”

She huffed, playing with her fingers. “I don’t know, I feel like everybody’s looking at me weird. I knew I shouldn’t have worn this dress—I know it’s too much—everyone is wearing shirts and jeans and I’m here looking like—”

“—a pretty girl,” he finished, staring nonchalantly at the clouds as he said it. “I don’t know what these guys think, but you’re prettier than any girl in the room today. You’re prettier than me, even, and that’s saying something.”

She bit her lower lip, holding back a laugh. “You just turned fourteen today and suddenly you’re old enough to flirt.”

“I wasn’t flirting.”

She smiled sheepishly. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

He looked to his side, a lopsided smile on his face. “Feel better now?”

“A little.”

“Good. Now go fetch me another plate of that thing I just ate ‘cause I’m still hungry.”

***

It was the color of ruby, the lipstick she wore on her lips for the very first time, which made Donghyuck knit his eyebrows together, both in confusion and bewilderment.

He was fifteen and she was sixteen, but she already read a bunch of novels about first kisses and sappy love stories when he barely even owned a novel.

“Are you wearing make-up?” he uttered with a frown, scrunching his nose. He was sitting on the edge of her bed, his black Michael Jackson shirt falling a bit loose around his shoulders with the bottom edge of his light-blue jeans folded.

“Yes, and before you judge me for it,” she began, but Donghyuck was already sticking his tongue out at her, making the most disgusted look on his face. “You’re an ass, do you know that?”

“You look like a clown, honestly.”

“Well, this clown is going on a date.” She looked proud, which made him furrow his eyebrows even deeper. “And if she’s lucky, she’s going to get her first kiss by the end of the evening, while you, on the other hand, are just going to sit there in your room watching The Kissing Booth for God knows how many times and pretend like you’re handsome enough to date the female protagonist.”

“I am handsome enough to date the female protagonist. Handsome enough to date the male protagonist even.”

“Yeah, in your dreams. You’re just a virgin with a stupid bowl cut in reality.”

“Whatever. You still look like a clown.”

“Whatever. Now turn around, I need to change my clothes.”

“To your clown costume?”

“Turn around!”

Donghyuck had little options in his hand, when she brought her high heels in the air, ready to hurl them to his face, so he exhaled loudly in annoyance and lied down on her bed, turning his body around so he was facing the wall.

“Who’s this idiot you’re going with?” He eventually asked, because the rustling sounds of her clothes hitting the floor were getting too distracting.

“Na Jaemin. You know, that extremely cute boy from P.E Class.”

He knew who exactly Jaemin was. Heard his name being spoken several times as he walked down his school’s corridor. Girls were obsessed with him, and they would scream as if the world was ending whenever he played a game on the basketball court. They might be thinking why is someone as perfect as Jaemin interested in someone like her? And he hated the fact that he was thinking the same thing, just the other way around.

Why is someone as perfect as her interested in someone like him?

But on the outside, he toned it down to a simple grimace. “What the hell is a Na Jaemin?”

She threw her heel at him, hitting his spine and making him groan. “Hey, that hurts, you bi—” But his words died on his tongue when he saw her standing in front of her mirror in nothing but her matching underwear, with her dress threatening to fall from her arms.

“Hey!” She shrieked, squatting down to the floor and trying her best to gather as much clothing to her body to stop herself from being so exposed to his eyes. “I didn’t say you could turn around!”

And Donghyuck would’ve played it cool, he really would have, if he wasn’t too aware of the heat rising to his cheeks. “I, uhh—” He turned around again, clearing his throat. “Well, it’s your fault for throwing your shoe at me! I turned around in reflex.”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying! From now on, you wait outside!”

“Fine!” He scrambled to his feet, making sure that he didn’t spare any glance at her—no matter how badly he wanted to—as he made his way out. “You have small boobs anyway.”

She screamed his name in both shame and anger but he was walking out with a cheeky grin on his face. He waited outside her room with his hands buried deep in the pocket of his jeans, yawning as he pressed the back of his head against the wall. A moment later, she opened the door with her face down, trying to tuck her bra strap under the collar of her dress. When he called her name, she nearly jumped out of her skin. “Damn it, Haechannie, I thought you’ve left!”

“I wanted to see your clown costume.”

“Why you little—” But this time, it was her turn to be lost at words because Donghyuck was staring at her in the way he never stared at her before. His eyes were gleaming as they took in her features—her lace cocktail dress that matched the color of her lipstick, her red ankle strap heels, her natural make-up that gave prominence to her eyes, and the way all of her clothing just fell perfect on her skin, embracing her every curve.

“W-what is it?” She asked, carding her fingers nervously through her hair—her soft, beautiful hair that always made him a little bit weak whenever she tucked a loose strand behind her ear. “Do I look weird?”

He forced himself to close his gaping mouth and act nonchalant again. After nine years of training, he was beginning to master his act. “Well,” Donghyuck said, shrugging, “It’s not exactly like the clown costume I remembered it to be, but it’s okay, I guess. So now tell me where is this Halloween party you’re attending because I’m going too.”

“I can no longer tell whether you’re joking or not, honestly.” She waved him off, tightening the straps of her heels. “Look, it’s my first date with a really cute boy who I really like. Can’t you at least wish me luck?”

Donghyuck didn’t answer right away. His heart was still conflicted about the whole thing and his head was still swirling over the thoughts of how pretty she looked. “I can’t believe you’re blowing me off for something as lame as Na Jaemin.”

“Someone as lame as—wait, he’s not lame!”

“But does he know you the way I do, though? Like, does he know how loud your snores are? I know that, and I accept that.”

“Haechannie, we literally spend every weekend together for the last nine years. I’m just taking one night off.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re still blowing me off.”

“Look, if it wasn’t a date, I would’ve asked you to come but since this is a date,” she stopped to smile, tapping her fingers against his cheek, “You be a good boy and wait for me at home, okay?”

As she walked out of her house, with him trailing behind her with heavy steps, Donghyuck said, “I hope his breath smells like shit when you kiss him later tonight!”

She laughed it off, raising her middle finger playfully at him, probably thinking he was upset because they didn’t spend the weekend together when he was entirely livid about something else.

He wasn’t sure how he felt towards her, but he was pretty certain that he didn’t like the fact she went out with some boy who probably wasn’t aware of her full name—or the way she would bite on her bottom lip from being too deep in concentration whenever she sketched something down, or the way she would puff out her cheeks in the most adorable way when she got teased too much. That fucking Na Jaemin wouldn’t understand her the way Donghyuck did.

So for the first time in his life, Donghyuck prayed something bad happened that night so her date would get canceled and she’d come running back into his arms, snuggling close with a popcorn bowl on their laps as they watched the same movie for the hundredth time.

Unfortunately for him, his prayer was not answered.

***

It was sapphire blue, the color of his hoodie was when he swung by to her house again, casually letting himself inside without even greeting her parents because he did it so many times within a day. It started to feel more like his house compared to hers.

“Oh,” she sneered, a smile appearing on her face. “You again.”

“What’s with the under-appreciating tone?” He clicked his tongue. “Most girls would actually scream in joy when I graced them with my presence.”

“Scream in horror, more likely.”

He ignored her banter, taking a seat on her bed again. She was lying down on her duvet, stomach pressed against the fabric with a fashion magazine under her fingers. “So,” he began, casually laying his head down on the dip of her spine, staring at the ceiling and secretly loving the feeling of knowing directly every time she took and released her breath. “Did he smell like shit when you kissed him?”

She flipped through a page. “As a matter of fact, we haven’t kissed. But that’s none of your business anyway.”

Donghyuck couldn’t help a smile creeping up his face. It was his luck that she didn’t notice. “Oh, but it is my business,” he said, trying not to sound as gleeful as he felt inside. “I really want to know whether he smells like shit or a dog's piss so I can make fun of him every time I see you.”

“Well, from the close proximity I had with him during our conversations inside the cinema, he smelled deliciously wonderful.”

“Deliciously? So he smelled like tacos?”

“Smelled way better than you, at least.”

“You’ve never kissed me so you wouldn’t know.”

“I already can tell without having to kiss you, asshole. You reek from a hundred feet away.”

“But just to be sure, wanna make-out with me for a while? I won’t bite.” Then he leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Unless that’s what you’re into.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“AUNTIEEEEEEE, SHE’S SAYING THE F WORD!”

“SHUT UP!”

***

It was Navajo white, the color of her knitted scarf was, as it hanged loosely around her neck, matching the color of her duffle coat.

“Oh,” Donghyuck flatly said as he opened the door to his room, answering her persistent knocks. “You again.”

“Haechannie.” The way she said his name sounded like she was desperate for help, and that made his heart flutter a little bit at the thought of being needed. But the words that followed soon after, crushed every bit of his happiness within an instant. “Jaemin asked me to be his girlfriend.”

He could feel how tightly his fingers were sinking into his palms but he tried to keep his voice steady. “And you’re confused because you just found out he’s a girl?”

“What should I do?” She whined, completely ignoring his sarcastic reaction. She seemed anxious, jumping a little on her feet every now and then, which was so adorable for his eyes to take but whenever he remembered the reason why she was acting that cute, he could feel his jaws tightening again.

“Do whatever you want, it’s not my business,” he muttered, walking back to his room but leaving the door open for her to follow.

“I like him, Haechannie,” she continued, and with every word that came from her mouth, a javelin seemed to strike him even harder in the chest. “I really do, but am I ready to have a relationship? Like what do I do? I know I joke a lot about having my first kiss but now that we’re about to become official, and knowing that he’s most likely going to kiss me soon, I get so nervous.”

Donghyuck didn’t say a word. He had nothing nice to say, so he kept himself in silence.

“W-what would you do if you were me?” She sputtered. “I mean, if a girl you like asked you to be her boyfriend?”

Donghyuck had his hands hidden in the pockets of his hoodie, so she wouldn’t be able to tell when his fingers curled into balls of fists. He had the back of his hips pressed against his desk, locating his eyes on his shoes instead of hers. “This girl I like is actually talking about being someone else’s girlfriend,” he professed, “So I’m not sure I can give you proper advice.”

“Stop messing with me, Haechannie, I’m seriously begging for your help here.”

It was goddamn annoying, he thought, how she could be so dense when it came to things like this. Well, to be fair, he did have his fair share of flirting with her from time to time whether he meant his words or not, and knowing how playful he was, it’s a given that she grew to become accustomed to his teasing personality. It was nearly impossible for him to be taken seriously nowadays.

“Why are you even asking me?” He spat out, now looking at her eyes—almost glowering. “I’m not your boyfriend.”

“I don’t know, I really need someone to talk to, I guess.” She played with her hair, biting her lower lip worriedly. “And you’re my best friend so I naturally just come to you. You always seem to have the answers to everything.”

There was a pang in his heart when she singlehandedly decided on their relationship status and he knew he shouldn’t have asked for something more but with more days passing by where it was only the two of them walking side-by-side under the first snow, or calling each other’s names the first thing in the morning through their windows, Donghyuck couldn’t help but to hope for something more.

“Well, like I said,” he repeated, voice sounding low and foreign even to his own ears. “Do whatever you want. As long as it makes you happy.”

She took a proper look at his face. “Are you angry or something?”

“No.”

“What, like, did I do something wrong?”

“No.”

“Then why—”

“I said nothing’s wrong!” His voice thundered through the thick tension that was hanging between them and he felt his own heart shaking in pain from the tone he just made. They stared at each other’s eyes in what felt like hours before Donghyuck finally covered it with a tired sigh. “I’m sorry, I’m just really tired right now. Didn’t catch any sleep last night from playing too many games.”

It took a good few seconds for her to regain back her composure. “Well, I don’t want to bother you then.” She didn’t sound angry, but she did sound hurt. Donghyuck was still in the middle of sorting out his feelings when she walked out of his room, saying, “I’m sorry for pestering you like this. Goodbye, Haechannie.”

He had never hated someone as much as he hated himself then.

It took him five hours for his mind to finally make up the decision to go into her house and apologize in person, but only a second for him to immediately do it once he’d made up his mind. He ran down the stairs so fast, he almost fell face-first on the carpeted floor. When he stood in front of her house, desperately pushing back air into his lungs, the door was locked and no one came to answer no matter how many times he rang the doorbell.

Muttering a train of expletives under his breath, he turned to his iPhone and found the first number in his emergency contacts. He was about to press dial when suddenly her name popped out on his screen, asking him to answer her call.

“Noona?” Donghyuck called, breathing in relief. “Hey, I was about to call you. I wanted to apologi—”

“Haechannie.” She sounded so happy, almost to the point of shedding tears. “Haechannie, he just kissed me.”

Donghyuck’s lips were parted in shock, his throat felt like burning, even though puffs of air still tumbled down from his mouth. His heart almost stopped beating entirely.

“What do I do, Haechannie, I’m so happy,” she said, laughing between tears. “I’m actually crying right now. I’m so lame, I know, but—God, I can’t believe I got kissed by my crush—no, wait, my boyfriend—oh God, it’s still embarrassing to say that but—”

As if turning deaf, her voice in his ears was reduced into a silent murmur before vanishing entirely. The loud beating of his heart soon replaced it as it pumped more anger and jealousy through his veins but Donghyuck wasn’t going to repeat his previous mistake. He wasn’t going to let his emotions take control again.

“Well,” he breathed out, unfamiliar with the sound of his own voice. “I’m happy for you then.”

“You are? Oh, thank God, because I thought you’d whine about me for not spending time with you anymore.”

“Do you really think that lousy of me?”

“I’m kidding, Haechannie. I love you. You know that, right?”

And it hurt, the way she said it, because it meant nothing more than a platonic love and he wanted it to mean more. Perhaps he had been waiting for those three words to mean more for the last nine years of his life.

“Of course,” he simply said, hoping she wouldn’t hear the crack in his voice. “There’s no life without you, Noona.”

It took her a while to respond, and he was worried whether the cold tone in his voice stood too vividly again, but she laughed before he could think too much.

“It’s been a while since we said that. Of course, yes, there’s no life without you, Haechannie.” She giggled again, “It’s kind of embarrassing to say that when we’re already this old. Maybe we should start looking for another catchphrase. I don’t want Jaemin to catch me saying that to you either—”

“No, don’t—” Since when did speaking to her become this hard? “It’s something that we’ve been doing since we were kids. I’m not gonna change our tradition just because of one asshole that you happen to like.”

A silence, then a chuckle. “Seems like you’re back to your old self again. I was beginning to worry. All right then, let’s keep it that way. I’ll just have to be more careful.” He could tell that she was smiling all the way when she said her sentences.

“When will you be back?” I miss you. “I want to see you.” I want to hold you. “We haven’t really talked these days.”

“Oh, umm…” She sounded so apologetically soft, so quiet, so out of his reach. “Jaemin actually just asked me to go somewhere with him, but I’ll be back soon. Is there something you need?”

He curled his fingers. “Nothing important. It can wait.”

“Great. Oh, Jaemin just called, I gotta—”

“Stop saying his name.”

When a small gasp came from the other line, Donghyuck raised his head, startled by his action. “I mean,” he cleared his throat, his stomach doing somersaults. “It’s just—” He couldn’t think of anything fast enough. “You’re right. I’m sorry for taking your time.”

“Oh, no, it’s…” A pause, which struck like a hurricane. “It’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?”

“Sure.” But he didn’t hold her on her promise, because she now belonged to someone else.

He just had to get used to being alone.

***

It was the color of eerie black, the denim jacket that he wore above his white shirt as he prepared himself for his date. Donghyuck had cut his hair short, ran his fingers through his bangs so they no longer covered his eyes, and sprayed the new bergamot perfume he bought around his neck.

He didn’t notice it at first, but he had become more popular in school for the past few months, after being a vocalist in a band and performing during the school festival. Girls were approaching him, asking from what class he was, wanting to know whether he wanted to hang out with them from time to time and it felt weird, although he had been quite popular back then too, it was more because he was the funny kid—not the hot kid in school.

So eventually he started going on dates, and every time he managed to spend a day with a girl, he’d come home to brag about it to his neighbor, wanting to evoke a reaction but what came out of her was only a small chuckle and a shake of her head, “What are you talking about? You’re just a boy. You know nothing about girls, let alone going on a date with one.” And he would drop the topic, fuming for the rest of the day.

“There.” He straightened his jacket, gazing at his reflection in the standing mirror. “New day, new beginning, Hyuck. You can do this.”

You can forget her and move on.

So he checked on his phone, noticing a new chat just popped up under the name of the stranger he had been seeing for two weeks, and felt his heart beating as steady as usual. Everything felt the same. Even after he’d kissed her for the first time, intertwined his fingers with hers as they walked from one cafe to another, or hearing her laugh over his words even when he didn’t try to be funny—everything felt the same. So… plain. Unexciting. And after two weeks had passed by, meeting this stranger—the girl with the auburn colored hair, crooked teeth, and waist thinner than most—began to feel like a chore.

No, you said you’d do this. You said you’d move on from her.

“Ah, Haechannie!” The way his childhood friend immediately smiled upon his presence, waving a hand back and forth as if they were long lost companions instead of neighbors, almost made him stop in his tracks. “You’re going somewhere? You look so nice!”

His resolution faltered as simple as that. Only by the sound of her voice calling his name, only by her contagious grin creeping to his face, only by simple praise that made his stomach flip most delightfully.

“What do you mean, I look nice? I always look nice.” Donghyuck was proud of himself to be able to conceal his feelings most of the time, and not actually acting like a blushing seventeen-year-old boy with the hugest crush on his childhood friend that he was.

She took her time analyzing him and for the first time in his life, he began to fidget on his feet, swallowing his breath.

“Stop staring at me, you’re making me feel weird.”

“Sorry, I just can’t believe you’re this big,” she said, her eyes sparkling in amazement. “Like, I know we’re neighbors but we’ve been busy dealing with our own things these days so I haven’t really taken a closer look at you but man, look how much you’ve grown. You’re way taller than me now.”

“Yeah, if you weren’t too busy playing tonsil hockey with that fucking Na Jaemin all the time, you would’ve noticed.”

“Indeed.” She looked amused, even proud somehow. “But I got to make-out and stuff. What have you done so far, cherry boy?”

He clenched his jaw, jealousy coursing through his veins. He tried to shove the picture of Jaemin running his hands all over her body—her perfect body—to the back of his head and he thought he did a remarkable job at it. But when he smiled, his eyes didn’t follow through.

“None of your business,” he simply said, tucking his hands inside the pockets of his jeans and walked away. “I’m going on a date. See you later.”

“You’re going on a date?!” She shrieked, eyes wide. “With who?”

“A pretty girl.”

She took a hold of his hand, stopping him from walking further. “Is this the girl you’ve been seeing for the last two weeks?”

He didn’t realize she kept count. “Yeah. What about it?”

“Nothing, I was just…” She awkwardly shrugged, her fingers hanging loosely around his arm. “Just curious, that’s all. So, like… Do you like her? What’s her name?”

It was almost possessive the way she asked the questions which on one hand, made him feel happy, hoping that she was jealous about it, but on the other hand, also pissed the hell out of him because if she was indeed jealous—if she ever felt the same way as him, even if only slightly—why did she go to Jaemin’s arms instead of his?

“Her name,” he glanced at her with lifeless eyes, “is Miss None-of-Your-Fucking-Business.”

Her smiled dropped instantly. “What is your problem? I just wanted to know—”

He knew he had the worst temper and patience in the world when it came to her, and he was not always like that before. Ever since the feelings he harbored for her grew bigger and bigger with each day passing by no matter how hard he tried to make himself fall in love with somebody else, he grew even more anxious, even less patient, and he hated the way he’d become.

But he couldn’t help it.

“Want to know what?” He asked, now facing her, circling his long fingers around her wrist and raising it in the air. “What do you want to know, exactly? It’s not just her name, is it? You want to know the things I do with her too? Want to know how I feel for her?”

Her eyes began to shake, frantically trying to understand him. “What—why are you so upset?”

“I’m not, I—” He sighed with a groan coming from the back of his throat, letting her go before he massaged his temple. I’m just so stressed out knowing how clueless you are of both your own feelings and mine. “Look, I gotta go. I’m running late.”

When he walked away, taking just about three steps ahead, she shouted. “Haechannie!”

He turned his head around, just enough to see her smiling softly at him. “This weekend,” she said, “Spend time with me this weekend. Please.”

“Noona, I—”

“I miss you.”

Just like that, she had him wrapped around her fingers again. It’s not fair. You’re not fair. You can’t keep doing this to me. But he smiled back, his gaze growing gentle, almost longing. “Then I’ll see you this weekend.”

He was in a fight he knew he’d lose every time.

***

It was coral pink, the color of the girl’s lip cream but he felt it pressed against his lips before he could see it properly. He felt his collar being tugged as his body was pushed further into her room, hasty hands pushing the jacket off his shoulders.

“You smell so good,” she said, giggling as she brought his bottom lip between her teeth. “And you look so fucking hot in this outfit.” Donghyuck hit the back of his knees against her bed and tumbled down onto her sheets, with his self-proclaimed girlfriend following shortly after.

“Wait—” he said, his eyebrows joining together in the middle from feeling both confused and uncomfortable. “What about your parents—”

“They’re not home,” she said in a rush, climbing onto his lap. “And I want you.” She tangled her lean fingers around his locks, pulling his head back to expose more of his neck. “I’ve been wanting you for so long, Hyuck,” she gasped, her mouth latching on his skin, tasting his bergamot perfume with her tongue. “And we’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

A little more than two weeks had passed since they first went on a date, and he really thought he could like her but whenever he closed his eyes during the kiss, his mind would start acting on its own, morphing her face to someone more familiar. Someone who could pull on his heartstrings and play with them only by the sight of her smile.

It felt wrong. All of this felt wrong. But he said he’d move on, he promised himself he would, and this was one of the ways to do it.

“You seem distracted,” she moaned softly against his ear, pressing her hips against him. “Am I boring you?”

He didn’t say a word and instead forced himself to kiss her better. He held her by the nape, angling her head to the side, and she sighed against his mouth, hooking her fingers around his silver necklace to pull him even closer.

Donghyuck was lost deep in his thoughts, and his heart just wasn’t there, but he didn’t push her away. She spread her legs and tangled them around his waist, pressing herself down until she could feel the zipper of his jeans grazing against her underwear. Donghyuck hissed under his breath, not agreeing with how his body reacted on its own and she grinned against his lips, guiding the hands he reactively laid around her waist to move further down her body.

“Touch me here,” she begged, taking his right hand and slipped it under her shirt, pushing her breast against his palm. Donghyuck let out a heavy breath as he let her tongue slipped past his lips and he closed his eyes again because that was the only way that this could all feel right to him.

Noona…

But no matter how good her touches felt on his skin, guilt was the only sensation he could feel in his heart. The more they kissed, the more he realized that she was not her, and she could never be her. He couldn’t smell the scent of strawberries from her hair. He couldn’t hear the cute giggle she made when his jokes got to her head. And no matter how they seemed physically similar—the look of her hair, the shape of her eyes, the way she dressed—he still couldn’t lie to himself and pretend she was her.

“Wait—” He pushed her gently off his lap by landing both hands on her shoulders. “Let’s stop.”

“Why?” She was upset, he could tell. “What is it?”

You’re not her. “I feel like we’re going too fast.” I don’t want you, I want her. “And what if your parents come home?” I feel sick. I need to get out of here. I need to see her.

“They won’t be home until midnight, I promise.” She had her fingers curled around his nape again. “Please, Hyuck, don’t you want me?”

She didn’t give him the chance to answer, swallowing his protest with her lips, tasting more of his mouth with her tongue. “Mmph—no—wait!” he pushed her away again, firmer this time to the point she almost toppled over. “Look, I’m not in the mood, okay?” His tone was getting harsher, which only led her to feel even more agitated.

“Why the fuck are you even here then?” She spat out, throwing her hands in the air.

Donghyuck shoved her away none too gently this time, stepping down from her bed. “I don’t fucking know,” he growled under his breath, putting his denim jacket back on. “I’m leaving.”

“What are you, gay?!” She was screaming as he stormed off, slamming her bedroom door on his way out.

***

It was the color of sunset that illuminated her face, as she sat on her porch with her knees pressed together to her chest and her spine glued to the wall. Her eyes were blank, almost lifeless as she stared into space, her previous conversation with her beloved childhood friend replaying non-stop in her head.

Does he really like her? Why didn’t he tell me anything about this? How far have they gone? Has he kissed her yet?

The heat was spreading to her cheeks at the thought of Donghyuck leaning in close, his eyes going half-lidded before he closed them entirely, his lips—his beautiful, plump lips—slightly parted in anticipation before he—

She buried her hands in her palms. What is wrong with you?! He’s practically your brother!

It wasn’t like she never thought about him as something more. She just never allowed herself to think about him that way. What they had was special—Donghyuck was special. He was her only true friend, the family that always stood by her side even when her parents didn’t. The one who noticed the simplest things about her without having to be told—like handing her a brand new sketchbook whenever she was about to run out of pages, or the way he would always take a day off school whenever she was sick in bed so he could accompany her the whole day, watching re-runs of her favorite show while munching red velvet cakes the way he knew she liked.

He was the one who could see behind her lies and excuses, and the only one who would come over to her side at any hour just to fulfill her dumb requests—even though he whined the whole time. And she knew she was special to him in some ways as well, because she was the only one who he allowed to see him cry while watching Titanic which to this day, still brought a smile to her face whenever the thought came up.

It was getting pretty distracting when puberty hit him like a truck somewhere in his first year of high school. His shoulders got broader, his jawlines became more prominent, his voice got a tad deeper, and he was getting taller and taller that she had to tilt her head upward to see his face properly during conversations. He was packing more muscles too, from all the soccer activities he did after school, turning his complexion from slightly pale into the perfect color of a sun-kissed tan. While she, on the other hand, only had two pimples appearing on her cheeks and her chest growing slightly bigger.

She adored him. To her, his existence had become such an integral part of her life that whenever she didn’t see him for a day, she would sit on her porch, counting the minutes until he walked past her house, calling her, “Noona,” with that cheeky smile on his face before he told her about his day.

That was before she dated Jaemin, though. Because after that, he became quite distant. It felt weird and slightly out of character for him to give her the cold shoulder whenever she mentioned his name, but she thought perhaps it was just a boy thing. The whole conversation about her drooling over her boyfriend was probably too boring for his ears, and Donghyuck was always straightforward with the things he wasn’t fond of so she shouldn’t have been so surprised.

Maybe he just wanted to give her the time she needed, so she could spend her days with her boyfriend—like what she was supposed to do—but she couldn’t help it that whenever Jaemin called her noona because he was also a year younger than her, the thought of Donghyuck’s teasing eyes and lopsided smiles crossed her mind.

And then the thought of him, holding another girl on his bed, his lips brushing against hers—

Ah, she mentally groaned, attempting to massage her scalp but ended up yanking on the roots of her hair. Lee Donghyuck, what am I supposed to do with these thoughts of you?

“You look like you’re going insane, honestly.”

She’d recognize that voice in a heartbeat even if she had her eyes closed and when she saw him slouching over her fence with a teasing smile painted on his lips, she nearly crumbled to the ground.

“Were you waiting for me, Noona?” He questioned with his eyebrow raised in a teasing manner, causing her to blush even harder.

“Of course not, idiot, why would I?” And the sound of his small chuckle warmed her heart. “You’re coming back pretty early. I thought you were going to spend the night with her.”

“Yeah?” He dragged open the fence, walking closer to her spot. “You were thinking about me spending a night at her place? Doing what, exactly?”

“Shut up.” She threw her sandal at him which he easily dodged before he took a seat beside her. “Did something happen on your date?”

“We had sex.”

She wasn’t sure whether it was because of the way he just casually said the words as if he was talking about the weather, or simply because he said those words at all, but she found herself frozen to her toes, her heart dropping into a bottomless pit, her chest suffocating.

“O-oh…” She gulped, bringing her eyes down to her fingers. “That’s great… I guess.”

“It was great,” he said, leaning back to press his spine against the wall as well. “But her parents came home soon after so I had to bail.”

He was still talking but she could no longer hear him, as if he was drowning in the background, his voice turning into whispers.

There was a feeling she couldn’t understand that kept appearing in her chest, sending fire to her fingertips. It felt like he was crushing her heart little by little with every word he said, choking her until she couldn’t breathe. She never felt like this before. Was it sadness that she felt—knowing that her little Haechannie was not her little Haechannie anymore? Or was it loneliness, knowing that he had someone else in his life—someone who could feel his touches, and made him feel theirs, in the way she could never do?

“Noona.”

She blinked herself awake. “What?”

“You’ve been quiet for a while.”

“I was just…” She desperately sought an answer. “I’m sleepy.”

It was a terrible lie and he could tell, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he offered her his shoulder. “Come here, then.” And she obliged, lying her cold cheek against his warmth and for the first time in her life, she began to be more conscious of everything.

Of his intoxicating scent. Of his slow breathing. Of his velvety voice sounding dangerously close to her ear.

Of his presence, entirely.

“So,” he pressed the side of his head against hers, voice turning gentle and quiet. “You’re not playing tonsil hockey with your stupid boyfriend today?”

“He had something to do, like a group project or something. And it’s fine, I needed some time alone to sort out my—” feelings. “—thoughts anyway.”

Donghyuck snorted. “Thoughts? Like, plural? You with that one brain cell of yours?”

She poked him on the side of his abs, forcing him to laugh in the way he usually did in the past. “All jokes aside though, Noona.” He sighed, staring at the way their hands were lying side by side on the wooden parquet. If only he could just move slightly… “Are you happy with him?” was the question he asked, but he actually wanted to hear the answer to Are you happier with him compared to when you’re with me?

“I think I am,” she said, and he could hear the smile in her words which ironically sparks pain to his every nerve. “I mean, it’s my first time being in a relationship so I barely know anything at this point, but… He does make me feel something in a way that no one has ever made me feel before.”

“What, like, horny?”

“That too, but—” She huffed. “I don’t know, like, he makes me feel wanted. Desired. He makes me feel pretty and I feel like I’m more confident now as a person, knowing that there’s someone out there who wants me that way, you know?”

Donghyuck stared into space, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. “But does he need you, though?” Does he need you like I do?

“Is there a difference?”

“Well, wanting you would be like he wants to hold hands with you, kiss you, touch you, be intimate with you or something but you can be replaceable as soon as he’s satisfied with you and starts wanting someone else.”

“I don’t think Jaemin is the kind of person who thinks like that.”

I don’t fucking care about Jaemin. “Yeah, I hope not. I don’t ever want you to have your heart broken.”

There was a silence that hung around them, and it started to make him feel flustered at his own words so he immediately added, “By anyone else but me. The only one who can mess with your head and your stupid heart is me. That’s like the reason for my existence—to make sure your life is a living hell.”

She smiled, taking his hand in hers, and squeezed him softly. “Yeah. You’ve always been my little devil after all.”

The word ‘my’ had a nice ring to his ears, enveloping his heart in a warming sensation, and Donghyuck blushed again, for an entirely different reason but as long as she didn’t notice, he would be fine.

***

It was ash grey, the color of his sweater that she borrowed to be worn as her sleeping attire during their sleepover at his house. It felt strange for two young adults in their primal stage of life to be sharing a room, but Donghyuck was more than pleased to offer her his bed while he slept on the floor, and his parents also didn’t mind, as long as they kept their bedroom door open.

“Final chance to back down, Noona, because I’m not stopping once we go all the way,” Donghyuck warned, suggestively raising his eyebrow, making her gulp nervously.

“I-I’m ready,” she said, nodding her head shakily a few times.

“You sure.”

“Just do it.”

“Well then, here we go.”

And as he clicked play, the movie started. It felt like it had been years since the last time they watched a movie together, sitting side by side on a carpeted floor, with a popcorn bowl on her lap, and a MacBook on his. They shared earphones, forcing them to sit as close as possible to avoid having them slipped out of their ears. Horror movies were her weakness so he always insisted to watch one of them to torture her—and also to see her cute reactions but Donghyuck scratched that off his mind—and somehow, she always ended up agreeing to it.

Donghyuck could watch every jumpscare in the movie without batting an eyelash, but his heart jumped every time whenever she clung on to him, her arms wrapping tightly against his, her head sinking at the crook of his neck, her frantic breath fanning his skin.

“What are you so scared about?” He asked, thanking God that he didn’t stutter. “It’s just a ghost of his dead girlfriend, haunting him for vengeance while singing a creepy tune as she does it.”

“Literally everything you just said!” She sobbed, her fingers clutching tightly to the fabric of his shirt, her fingernails nearly scratching his skin.

Donghyuck knew he was blushing and he hated it, and if she kept doing that, who knew what he’d become. “Let’s just stop then.”

“But you want to see this movie, don’t you—AAAH!”

His ears began to ring. “Not with you screaming like this!”

“It’s okay, I can handle this.” She puffed out her chest, taking a deep breath. “But can I hold your hand, just in case?”

It was his turn to take a deep breath. “Sure.”

It was scary, Donghyuck thought, how his mind could pay no attention whatsoever to what was showing on the screen, and instead focusing every nerve in his body on the sight of her fingers resting on top of his, squeezing them tightly whenever she was scared out of her mind.

There was a knot in his stomach, making him feel lightheaded and he tried to push the thought of lifting her fingertips to his lips and kiss them until she could think about nothing but him away from his mind.

By the end of the movie, he knew nothing about the storyline but she was bawling her eyes out. “I can’t believe I’m crying over a ghost’s background story, this is so stupid,” she said, sobbing fervently until her entire shoulders began to shake.

Donghyuck lifted one knee to his chest, laying his arms on top of it before he rested his cheek on them, He gazed at her with a pair of longing eyes, gleaming in adoration. “You’re so cute,” he sighed in a breathy voice.

Still rubbing the tears out of her eyes, she asked, “What?”

“The way you get so worked up over stupid things like this is just—cute. You’re so cute.”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop saying those kinds of things to me. You already have a girlfriend. It’s not right to do this to her, even if you’re just joking around.”

Maybe it was because she seemed a bit hurt, her voice sounding strained and plaintive, or maybe it was just her line entirely but whatever it was, it made his skin crawl and he could no longer control what came out of his mouth.

“What if I didn’t have a girlfriend then?” He questioned, eyes deadly serious. “What if I wasn’t just flirting with you? What would you do if I told you I meant everything I said, every praise, every feeling I had for you?”

Her hands froze mid-air as she tried to wipe the rest of her tears away from her eyes. “What are you—”

“What would you do if I told you I loved you?” He leaned closer, brushing his fingertips against her tear-stained cheek. “Would you believe me if I say I’ve been in love with you ever since I met you?”

Silence struck like a hurricane, and there was a storm swirling in her chest. “I…” Her throats felt dry. “I, uhh…”

She looked so conflicted that it began to hurt him even when she didn’t intend to, because Donghyuck wanted her to immediately say, “I would’ve said the same thing,” straight to his face without having to trip on her words. Without her voice sounding so brittle. Without her face looking like she was about to break someone’s heart.

So he simply got up to his feet, forcing a train of laughter to erupt from his mouth. “I’m just messing with you, idiot. Stop looking at me like you got your panties in a twist, I was just kidding.”

And he expected her to be angry. Angry enough that she would shout while throwing things at his face, but instead, she broke down in tears again but smiling so widely in relief.

“I’m so glad,” she said, nearly choking on her tears. “I’m so glad you were just joking.”

He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide the pain that fleeted on his eyes, so he turned around, sinking his nails deep into his palm so he could focus on that pain instead of the one in his heart before he gathered his quilt with both arms. “Let’s just go to bed, it’s late.”

“You’re sleeping on the floor again?”

“What do you think?”

“But…” She nibbled on her lower lip. “It’s, umm, I don’t mind if we sleep together—I mean, on the bed, like, side-by-side, not—” She caught herself, shaking her head. “Anyway, it’s big enough for both of us anyway, and also…” She grew quiet, fiddling with her fingers. “I’m still so scared right now so if you could just, you know, sleep right next to me, that would calm me down a lot, I think…”

Donghyuck had his tongue poking the inside of his cheek, glaring at his ceiling, asking his Lord, why must you test me like this?

“You do know that your boyfriend would kill me if he knows I’m doing this with you, right?”

She winced, smiling sheepishly. “Can’t you just keep it a secret?”

He sighed, making sure that he had the expression that said I’m-so-done-with-all-your-bratty-requests when deep down inside, he was shaking in both excitement and fear of not being able to hold himself back.

“I’m a man too, you know,” Donghyuck grumbled, slipping himself underneath the comforter. He didn’t take off his shirt this time, unlike the other nights when he slept alone. “I could attack you in your sleep.”

“Isn’t that the very reason why we’re keeping the door open?” She giggled, though the tremble from her previous breakdown was still there. “This is actually rather exciting. It’s been years since we slept side-by-side like this. It reminds me of our good old days.”

“Yeah?” He jeered. “Remember what else we do in our good old days? We take baths together.”

“Just shut up and go to sleep.”

Donghyuck slept on his side, facing the other side of the wall while she laid on the bed with her spine pressed against the sheets and her eyes glued to his ceilings. Though she was the one who said those words, it took her forever to fall asleep. “Haechannie?”

“What?”

“You’re still awake?”

“No, this is his voicemail speaking.”

“If you’re too tired to talk, could you sing me a song or something? It’s too quiet and I can’t help remembering that creepy tune she sang every time she showed up.”

“My God, what are you, a kid?”

“You forced me to watch that, so take responsibility for it!”

“Ugh, fine,” he groaned, turning to his back with his eyes locked on his ceilings and then started to hum. She listened to it wholeheartedly, a smile popping up on her face but it didn’t stay long before she realized something.

“Are you singing the theme to Mario Bros?”

“If you even begin to complain, I’m going to kick you off the bed.”

“Right, okay, continue then.”

She listened again, prepared for the same tune, but he changed it at the last second. “I can’t believe you changed it to Spongebob’s now.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, just go to sleep!”

“Okay, geez!” Her smile became permanent on her face. “You just said the F word. Mommy’s gonna be pissed at you tomorrow.”

It ended up with them throwing playful punches and kicks under the duvet and Donghyuck laughed a lot, missing and loving every second of it because this was how they used to be—playing around like kids, messing with each other’s hair and faces. At one point, he began to hover over her, trapping her body between his arms, his knee placed on the small space between her thighs. The pendant of his silver necklace was grazing along her collar bone, making her shiver slightly from the cold.

She was sweating, her bangs sticking to her temple, and she was as breathless as he was, panting for air. It felt like time began to slow for Donghyuck the second his eyes were locked on hers, his surroundings vanishing into a blur. He was so close, too close, that he could feel her breath on his lips, could almost taste the scent of her shampoo on his tongue, and if he could just lean in…

The sound of his name tumbling down her lips in a soft, almost inaudible manner was what stopped him from pressing his lips against hers, and he was thankful because otherwise, he could’ve done it, and then everything would be ruined.

He couldn’t afford that to happen.

“Your breath stinks,” he said instead and pecked her quickly on her forehead. He immediately scrambled to his other side of the bed, shouting, “Go to sleep, you idiot,” as he gave his best effort to pretend he was sleeping.

You were so close, Donghyuck thought, you almost ruined everything. Pull yourself together.

And if I can’t have her, just let me have this moment for the rest of my life.

***

It was the color of ivory, her trench coat was as she wrapped it harshly around her body, all the while fuming in anger. Her phone was buzzing non-stop, alerting her to the new messages that arrived almost at the same time and she knew exactly who they were from.

I still can’t believe you’re choosing him over me to celebrate your birthday. - Haechannie, 09.10

We do this every year, Noona, we PROMISED to always celebrate our birthdays together. - Haechannie, 09.10

And now that you have Na fucking Jaemin giving you sloppy blowjobs as your birthday gift, you suddenly just forget about me?! How fucking ridiculous is that?! - Haechannie, 09.11

Does he even know it’s your birthday today? Did he congratulate you on it like I did? Showing up at your door at midnight, carrying the world’s most gigantic alpaca doll in my arms when it was fucking freezing outside?! Because I sure as hell didn’t see his stupid donkey face! - Haechannie, 09.12

Also, not trying to be an ass about this, but do you even know how hard it is to find a one-meter tall Alpaca doll?! Why can’t you just like teddy bears like everyone else for fuck’s sake. - Haechannie, 09.13

“Oh my God,” she groaned loudly to the air, almost stomping her feet in fury as she texted back, “I’m not ditching you, you selfish idiot! I’ll be back before dinner and then we can spend the rest of the day together so for once in your life, stop sounding like a fucking asshole!” She paused, thinking more words to add before she jabbed her thumbs to her phone screen again. “Also, I didn’t ask you to get me anything so you can take that stupid ugly doll back if you’re going to be a bitch about it because I don’t need it!”

And she pressed send. But before she could catch her breath, another response came by.

Great. Do me a favor, will ya? Don’t show up at dinner. I’m not your fucking backup plan. - Haechannie, 09.15

She was so close to smashing her phone against the wall, but the text coming from her boyfriend, telling her that he was waiting for her downstairs, made her heaved the heaviest sigh she’d ever made, shoved her phone into her purse, and stepped down the stairs with angry clicks of her heels.

The entire birthday date was a disaster for her because Jaemin was discussing something important but she couldn’t decipher a word he said. The look on Donghyuck’s face when she said she had promised Jaemin she’d go on a date with him on her birthday—how shocked and disappointed he was, not to mention furious—was the only thing that she could focus on. She kept replaying it over and over again in her head, until Jaemin took her hand and called, “Noona? Did you hear what I just said?”

And she was so terribly upset that she began to lose control of her mouth. “Don’t call me that. I have someone back home who calls me that a lot and it’s getting annoying.”

“O…kay,” Jaemin awkwardly said, pulling his hand away from hers. “I was just trying to be respectful.”

She threw her head back, sighing loudly in exasperation. “You’re right, sorry. I didn’t mean to take this out on you.” She took a deep breath, waited until she calmed down a little bit before she continued again. “I just had this fight with someone and it keeps bugging me.”

“Let me guess. Is it Lee Donghyuck again?”

She raised her head in surprise, looking at him. “What do you mean again?”

“He’s all you’ve been thinking about, for as long as I remember.”

“Yeah, because he’s like a little brother to me who annoys the hell out of me.” She rubbed her temple, feeling her energy drained. “Well, he’s not actually my brother, but he acts like one—he gets on my nerves, teases me a lot, calls me stupid all the time—”

“Why do I get the feeling that he’s more than just a little brother to you?”

She frowned. “What do you mean? You’re not listening to me—”

“Look, you know what?” Jaemin ran a hand through his hair. “I think it’s best to end this.”

“What?” She nearly dislocated her jaw. “What are you even saying—are you breaking up with me?”

“Well, you’re going to graduate soon and you told me once that you’d probably leave town for college, and with all this Donghyuck thing going on…” Jaemin sighed. “I just don’t see how this is going to work.”

***

It was the color of dark grey, the heavy clouds that hovered above the earth with thunders flashing between them. She stood in front of Donghyuck’s door, fingertips shivering slightly from the cold as she rang his doorbell. The boy came to answer shortly after, his usual gaze quickly turning into a menacing glare at the sight of her. He was about to rave over their previous fight when he noticed how she was all drenched from the rain with tears streaming down her face. She glanced up at him, murmuring his name between sobs, and Donghyuck hastily gathered her in his arms, not caring one bit how the rain seeped almost instantly to the grey Nirvana shirt he was wearing.

“Are you okay?” He attentively asked, cupping her cheek with his lean fingers. He lifted her face, examining every detail of her features, making sure she wasn’t hurt in the slightest. “Did something happen?” His voice suddenly turned gravelly. “Did he do this to you?”

She sniffled, burying her face in his chest. “Jaemin broke up with me.”

“On your fucking birthday?!”

She nodded.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Donghyuck said, almost growling as he embraced her tighter. “I’m gonna keep you company today and make sure you’re okay first, and then I’m going to kill him.”

There was no need for apologies to be exchanged, because Donghyuck already had his arms around her, drying her hair with a towel and lending her his sweater that he knew she loved. His parents weren’t home at the time, so they sat on the kitchen counters, legs dangling a few inches above the porcelain floor with a cup of hot coffee in their hands.

“This is the worst birthday in the history of mankind,” she said, slurping her coffee. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Well, there was actually this girl who got murdered on her birthday—”

“Just humor me, will you?” He chuckled and patted her hair. “But to be fair, I don’t think he’s aware it’s my birthday today. He hasn’t said anything, didn’t give me anything. I also never told him, and he…Well, he never asked.”

“And yet, you still went out with him.” He sighed, now tucking a loose strand of her hair to the back of her ear. “I know you’re an idiot, but I didn’t think you were this much of an idiot.”

She grew smaller. “Please be mean to me another day. I’m currently wounded.”

“Right, okay, come here.” He cradled her in his arms, placing his chin on top of her head. “You smell like a wet dog, by the way.”

“Thanks.” She was about to lean more to his touch when his phone began to ring.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” She questioned when he did nothing about it and when he kept quiet, she broke apart from his embrace, jumped down, and grabbed his phone from the table.

“Unknown number,” she mumbled when his ringtone stopped playing. “Wait, there’s a text.”

“Don’t read it.”

“It said aren’t you coming over.” She raised her eyebrows in question. “Is this your girlfriend?”

He yawned. “A different one.”

“What, that fast? Were you supposed to meet her? Oh my God, I’m so sorry for taking your time, why aren’t you—”

“Rather than saying that,” he took a sip of his coffee, “We should begin our revenge plan on that stupid ex of yours. I mean, I could just straight-up punch him in the face, but you already know his weakness. It’s time to strike, baby.”

She blinked, her puffy eyes soon began to gleam mischievously. “I’ve already planned it all out. Do you wanna hear it in alphabetical order?”

***

It was the color of burgundy, the quilt that covered her body when she suddenly woke up from her dream with a jolt, surprising the man who slept on the floor next to the foot of her bed.

“What happened?” Donghyuck asked, rubbing his eyes away from sleep. “Nightmare?”

Her eyes were wide when she looked back at him, gulping hard before she said, “I just had the dream.”

“What dream?”

“The dream, Hyuck.”

“Wet dream? I thought that was only for boys—”

“No, you’re not listening to me. The dream.” She threw her blanket away, scrambling back to her feet, and kneeled in front of him, taking his hand in hers. “I just met my soulmate.”

Donghyuck almost shuddered. “What?”

“It’s true, Haechannie, it wasn’t just a rumor,” she said, looking at her trembling fingers. “They said the dreams would start sometime after we turned eighteen and I saw it. I saw him. And it felt so weird. It wasn’t like a dream, it was—” Realization befell her eyes. “A memory. You were right, it was a memory—his memory.”

“Okay, wait a sec.” He held up a finger in the air. “What exactly did you see? And talk like a normal person this time.”

She nibbled on her lower lip, deep in her thoughts. “So, you know how when you’re dreaming, you can’t tell if it’s a dream? Like you’re suddenly somewhere, doing something that you can’t remember the beginning of it but it felt normal so you kept doing that, until suddenly you wake up and you start noticing how weird it really was.” Donghyuck nodded, albeit still a little unsure. “Well, this isn’t anything like that. You’re completely aware that it’s a dream—at least, I was. I remember telling myself it was a dream but now I realized it was a memory.”

“My God, you’re taking too long,” he complained. “What exactly did you see? For fuck’s sake, just tell me!”

“I was in a classroom at some school that I’ve never seen before and there was this guy who looked just about my age, sitting on the last row—just right by the window. He had the softest hair, a pair of big, beautiful doe eyes, cute thin lips, broad shoulders—”

“Hold up.” He grimaced. “You’re not talking about me, are you?”

“One of these days, Lee Donghyuck, I’m going to strangle you in your sleep, I swear to God, I will.”

“Right, apparently not then. Please, continue.”

She took another two seconds to throw ice daggers at him with her eyes before she finally started again. “He was scribbling something down on his book. And I tried to talk to him, but he couldn’t hear me. I could hear him, though, and everything else that was going on in the classroom. I could hear him hum a song before he nodded his head, looking like he just figured something out, and then he was writing things down again. I tried to reach out to him, but I couldn’t physically touch him too. I was just a bystander that saw everything—like watching a movie or something.”

“A completely boring movie, if you ask me.”

She rolled her eyes, completely ignoring him. “Then, when I blinked my eyes, I was standing somewhere else. There was this lake, so beautiful, surrounded by mountains—like the entire scenery of it was just breathtaking, and I don’t think that’s in our country so he might have traveled somewhere overseas.”

He snorted. “Sounds like an annoying rich kid.”

“Can you just—” She sighed, calming herself down. “So, I saw him there with a camera in his hands and a guitar case strapped to his back. He was taking some shots of the landscape and, uhh,” she shyly chuckled, “I know it’s too fast for me to say this, but his face when he’s concentrating—“

“Constipating?”

“Concentrating,” she corrected and Donghyuck sent her a kissy face. “The face he made when he was concentrating was so cute.”

“Ugh, enough with the lame commentary.” He yawned, stretching his arms above his head. “Why are you so sure he’s your soulmate? Sounds like just another weird-ass dream to me.”

“I can’t really explain it, but…” Her eyes turned soft, cheeks going a bit rosy. “It feels like I just found something that I didn’t know I lost—something important, something that was a part of me, even. And it just makes me feel whole, you know? It’s weird saying this when I don’t even know his name but… That’s just how I feel. Everything just clicked.”

“Huh…” Donghyuck’s tongue was protruding against the inside of his mouth as he tried to process his thoughts. It suddenly felt like his heart was being cut into several pieces, the moment his reality sank in. He didn’t realize it was that serious. Or at least, he didn’t want it to be that serious.

She squeezed his hand. “You understand how I feel, don’t you, Haechannie?”

He sent her a timid smile before he pulled her body into him, pressing his chest against hers, leaning down to rest his chin on her shoulder. “Yeah,” he muttered softly, his lips grazing the fabric of her sweater. “I get it.” And she giggled, embracing him tighter, thinking that maybe he was just as happy as her.

She didn’t notice the way his fingers slowly curled against the back of her sweater. She didn’t notice how he deliberately pressed his lips against her clothed shoulder as he spoke so he could hide the shivers in his voice. And she didn’t notice how his eyes were shaking in the fear of losing her, how he could barely bear the pain in his chest, how his mind almost made him vomit the words he’d been dreading.

It’s okay. She hasn’t met him yet. Maybe it’s just a dream. It doesn’t mean anything.

God, please don’t let it mean anything.

***

It was a shade of purple, the color she used to paint a lavender in her sketchbook before she drew the rest of the landscape. But before she could finish painting the next thing, she sighed dreamily into the air, closing her drawing book with both hands.

“He’s in a band,” she said as they laid side-by-side on the grass, enjoying the warm sunlight on their faces and the scent of the pine trees in the garden near their homes. “Was. Or still is, I’m not sure.”

And she laughed, she always did whenever she talked about him and although the sound of it used to warm his heart, it made him struggle even more with jealousy. So he just hummed, scrolling down his Instagram feeds to distract him.

Three months had passed by ever since she had that dream, and Donghyuck was conflicted between wanting to know more or hearing none of it for the rest of his life. She had the dream every single night, reliving every single one of her soulmate’s memory—both past and present—every time she closed her eyes, and to him, she seemed more alive when she was about to go to bed, rather than after she woke up.

“I heard him sing once during his band practice when his vocalist had a sore throat. He sounded great but like, a bit hesitant, you know? Like he’s not confident with his voice.” She turned around to her stomach, staring at him with excitement in her eyes and a speck of scarlet painting her cheeks. “Well, he doesn’t sound anything like you, but I still think he’s great.”

“Good to know,” he coldly replied. She seemed to take notice of that.

“I’m sorry, Haechannie,” she said, “I must have bored you to death with all this soulmate talk.”

“Yeah, well, he’s your soulmate, not mine, so I couldn’t care any less.” He could’ve been nicer about it, but then again that wouldn’t be him.

“Well, guess what?” She landed half of her body on his stomach, knocking some of his breath with her weight but he just threw a glare in response and not pushing her away. “Somebody is having his eighteenth birthday in a month. So then, we’ll have your soulmate to talk about too.”

“Yaaay,” he weakly cheered, face flat and ignorant.

She pouted. “Why aren’t you excited about this? You’re gonna be dreaming about your soulmate! I’m excited to know who’s that lucky girl going to be.”

His chest felt heavy and it had nothing to do with the girl on top of him. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“I hope she’s nice and pretty,” she said, smiling genuinely at him. “Because only the most perfect girl in this entire universe can deserve my Haechannie.”

But he didn’t want a perfect girl. He just wanted her, so why was it so impossible to ask?

“Wish I could wish the same for you,” he said, placing his phone on his chest and leaned back on his elbows so he could focus his gaze on hers.

“What do you mean?”

And he switched their positions, rolling their bodies on the grass until she had her spine pressed against the ground with him hovering above her. “H-Haechannie?”

She looked so perfect like this—trapped between his arms, her doe eyes widening in surprise, taking in his sight, her lips parted making a soft gasp of his name.

Ah, I want to make her mine. Why can’t she be mine?

He leaned down, the tip of his nose almost brushing against hers. And if he could just forget everything—their friendship, her future life with her soulmate—for a few seconds and allow himself to be selfish, he would close the gap, meeting her lips with his, bask himself in her warmth, and he would let her moan against his mouth, would caress her cheeks with his fingertips, and would just wish the time to stop so they could repeat that for eternity.

But this reality of his was not that.

This reality of his felt more like a nightmare—one that he could never wake up from.

So in this reality, he brought his lips dangerously close to her ear, and whispered, “I hope your soulmate picks his nose and eats his booger whenever you’re not looking because only then he’d be perfect for you.”

And before she could kick his abs in response, he already scrambled back to his feet, running away as if his life depended on it.

***

It was the color of cerulean blue, the scarf that Donghyuck wore around his neck because he was a bit sensitive to cold even when spring was about to come to an end.

“Let’s go somewhere,” Donghyuck said, adrenaline rushing through his veins. “Anywhere. Just you and me.”

“What, now?” She frowned, looking at the clock on her bedroom wall. It was two hours before midnight—before he turned eighteen. “But it’s late—”

“I don’t care—”

“And it’s freezing outside—”

“I’ll keep you warm.” He was already tugging on her hand, pulling her up to her feet. He wrapped his scarf around her neck and placed his beanie on her head. “I don’t have my gloves but I’ll hold your hand all the way, so no more excuses and let’s go.”

Because it might be his last chance to spend his time with nothing but her presence filling his thoughts. He dreaded the possibility of having that dream sometime after the clock struck twelve. He didn’t want his heart to be taken by someone else—let alone, a stranger. And he knew he wouldn’t dream about her because she had found her soulmate and he was not him.

And if it was true—if having that dream changed his entire perspective where he could only love that one girl for the rest of his life then…

Just let me have this moment with her, where I can still love her with all my heart, even if she doesn’t love me the same way.

“Where are we going?” She demanded as they broke past the front door as quietly as they could since her parents were sleeping in their room.

“I don’t know—I don’t care—I just—” He breathed into the night air, puffs of warm breath painting the space between them. “Anywhere is fine. I just want to be with you.”

He saw her cheeks turning scarlet but he didn’t hope for too much. It was probably just the cold playing tricks on him.

“Okay, well then,” She tightened her duffle coat around her body. “Lead the way.”

He smiled, feeling blessed for having her putting so much faith in him, even after all this time.

There weren’t many places open at that hour, and it was fine because they already felt content just from walking side-by-side under the cherry blossoms that had withered all of their flowers. The way she held his hand reminded him of their younger days, both gentle and somewhat protective—like a sister to a younger brother and it made him feel both joy and sadness because he wanted to intertwine their fingers together as lovers, embrace each other under the dim glow of the streetlight, and connect their lips together while whispering loving words between chaste kisses.

“Haechannie,” she said, snapping him out of his reverie as she stopped them both in their tracks. “Happy birthday.”

Donghyuck blinked, not realizing how two hours just passed in an instant. “I’m as old as you, already?” He sneered. “I feel so gross.”

But she didn’t laugh the way he thought she would. Instead, she was looking at him with a glint of loneliness in her eyes which made him wonder why. “I bought you something.” She rummaged her coat’s pocket before she showed a little black box the size of her palm with a red bow wrapped around it.

Donghyuck faked a gasp. “No way, you’re proposing to me? But honey, I’m already carrying your child!”

She stomped her feet on his. “Shut up and just be serious for a sec, will ya?”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” He chuckled but he could hear how nervous he actually was from the little crack in his voice. He took the little present with a shy, slightly awkward smile. “Can I open it now?”

“Sure, as long as you don’t mock me for it.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at her before he opened the box to find a silver oval locket necklace displayed inside it. He glanced at her. “Don’t tell me you have a picture of us taking our bath together as babies in it.”

“Interesting, but no. I did have something written on it, though.”

“Okay, but if you wrote something stupid, I will—” He froze, hands stopping mid-air after he opened the locket and read the words engraved on the silver plate.

To my first love, Lee Donghyuck.

“Okay, before you say anything,” she cut him off, fidgeting a little on her feet. “Let me explain about it first. I don’t want to come out as weird or anything because after this, we’re both going to find our soulmates and go our separate ways so let me assure you that I’m not saying I love you that way, but—”

He pulled her into his chest, wrapping both of his arms around her shoulders, his lips pressing against her hair.

“Haechannie—”

“Shut up,” he said, closing his eyes as he calmed his racing heart. “Just shut up and let me have this moment.”

She wasn’t sure whether he got her previous message but she no longer cared, because at the end of the day, he was her first love in every way—as a family, a brother, a friend, and even a lover once, though she never allowed herself to think about him like that. So she tangled her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest, and closed her eyes for as long as he would let her.

Donghyuck wanted this moment to last forever but he knew time was running out even if he tried to stand still. It would be over the second he had that dream and fell in love with someone else. It would end the day she’d meet her soulmate, treating his existence merely as a bystander in her love story.

But for now… Just for now…

“I love you,” Donghyuck whispered so softly against her hair, almost inaudible by the sound of the wind passing through their ears. “I love you, Noona. So much that it hurts.”

She chuckled, embracing him tighter. “I love you too, Haechannie.”

Then why does this feel like a goodbye?

He pulled back, pressing his temple against hers. “There’s no life without you,” he said, a shy smile forming on his lips.

She cupped his cheek, rubbing comforting circles on his skin. “There’s no life without you, Haechannie.”

***

“So, umm, thanks for today,” Donghyuck said, as he walked her back to her house, rubbing his nape awkwardly as he said it. “And thanks for the gift. I’ll treasure it.”

“You better.” She playfully punched his arm. “It was pretty expensive, just so you know.”

“More expensive than a one-meter tall made-by-order alpaca doll I bought you?”

“Sorry, I’ll take that back.” She winced, and Donghyuck chuckled a little bit under his breath, patting her head and letting his fingers linger a little longer than usual on the soft strands of her hair.

“Well…” He retracted his hand, placing them in his coat’s pocket. “Good night.”

“See you tomorrow.” And she leaned in to kiss him on the cheek at the same time he was about to do the same and their lips grazed each other, soft lips meeting softer ones in the faintest of touch but carved something deep both in their bodies and minds.

They both took a step back at the same time, startled. He was busy looking anywhere but her face, and she concealed her lips with her fingers, bringing her head down to hide her eyes underneath her bangs.

There was a silence that made his skin crawl. “S-sorry, I was—”

“No, it’s okay, I get it,” she immediately said, forcing a smile before she hastily turned on her heels, her shaky fingers searching for her doorknob. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Donghyuck still had trouble breathing. “Y-yeah, sure.”

She timidly smiled again before she stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

Now that they were both out of each other’s sight, Donghyuck inaudibly cursed into the air, running a hand through his hair, feeling his heart ramming against his ribcages while she slid down to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest and pressed her spine against the back of her front door.

The thought of their brief, accidental kiss was the only thing that painted their minds even behind their closed eyelids as they laid on their beds, hoping for exhaustion to take over their bodies. Once it did, they both fall into a soundless sleep where she began to think about another pair of lips but it wasn’t the case for Donghyuck.

Because, as he fell into his first soulmate dream, he was facing the same person—the girl who owned his heart, whose lips were just as soft as he’d imagined them to be.

Noona, he spoke inside the dream, staring at the sight of her, why am I dreaming about you?

***

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