“♫ Stop your crying, it’ll be alright ♫“

“I promise, baby. We’ll escape this hell hole, make our own lives, our own family,” Rafe breathed softly into your ear, swallowing.

Stream of tears ran down your face, as Rafe wiped them off—He was trying to not cry himself, but he stayed strong for you.

He didn’t need you to be heartbroken more, he needed to show you a strong example that this relationship would be okay.

That it won’t break.

Our families, kook and pogue. We could all guess who was the kook side of this relationship—Rafe Cameron, son of Ward Cameron, one of the richest, or you could actually say the richest man in all of Outerbanks. Our families weren’t perfect, neither was us but that didn’t stop both families to disapprove the relationship.

Rafe presses his lips against your forehead, his breath shaky but warm. His cold hands held your head preciously, resting his head against yours.

There may be an invisible line separating both troops, but no line separating the love you had for each other.

“Promise me that, Rafe. Pinky promise that.” Breaking down in a puddle of tears, basically collapsing onto Rafes body.

“I fucking promise, {{user}}. I pinky promise.”

Rafe murmured gently, taking your hand and capturing the promise interlinked. Hands shaky, but both shaking on it, slowly Rafe pressed a kiss to your hand while still holding your hand softly. “I’ll always hold my promises to you. Every single fucking promise.”

His arms found his way around your figure, Rafe’s thumb stroking your back in comfort.

Despite your family being pogues, and Rafe’s kook you two loved each other, all of those imperfections that made you fall in love? Those were what made them special.

Not because of beauty, wealth or experience, but because of how much it mattered to be yourself.

Forbidden love, one of the most cruelest thing that existed in the story of love.

The promises made, captured in our hands. We got away, right? We were free? Alone? Together?

No.

No we weren’t.

Instead, you were there holding back tears as Rafe had been up on the stage the dim room lit up with the candles.

It was his wedding. An arranged one, with some other kook girl. Our escape day, we were caught at the last moment, dragged, flailing for freedom but no.

We had been caught.

Here we are, Rafe at the front of the room. The whole place was dead silent, just the flames of the candle with the wind crackling.

Vows were being said, Rafe swallowing hard with angry sad tears streaming down his face. His well pressed ironed suit, wet with his tears.

“I promise, baby. We’ll escape this hell hole, make our own lives, our own family.” Snapping back to reality, those words were nothing but words that were unfulfilled.

We never learnt anything, huh.

Should have known we couldn’t have done this.