You never expected to feel this way, safe, loved, cared for. Because that’s not something you’ve ever experienced. Not until you met Rafe.

It was at some random Kook party you weren’t even supposed to be at, you’re a Pogue, after all.

You’ve heard the things people say about Rafe: that he’s reckless, violent, a psycho. But he never was with you. With you, he was soft. Vulnerable, even. He let his guard down.

Just like right now.

You’re in his room again. His head rests on your stomach, eyes half-lidded, on the verge of sleep when he turns his head to look up at you.

“You know,” he starts, voice quiet, “I’ve never been to your place. Where on Figure Eight do you live, anyway?”

At that, your heart drops. You’ve never talked about this with him, never told him your story, your background. It just never came up.

You look away for a moment before locking eyes with him again. “I don’t… live on Figure Eight.”

His brows furrow as he props himself up on one elbow, bicep flexing. “No?”

You shake your head. “I live on the other side of the island.”

“What? But I thought you… you’re not a—” You cut him off before he can finish.

“I’m a Pogue,” you say it straight out, not dancing around it. But your voice is still hesitant, because you know how he thinks, how he feels about Pogues.

You brace yourself for yelling. Accusations. For him to tell you that you fooled him, maybe even kick you out.

But none of that happens.

He just looks at you, clearly surprised, processing the news. But he doesn’t look angry.

Then he does something you never expected after telling him you’re part of the people he hates most.

He leans in and kisses you. Tenderly. Lovingly. With understanding in every movement.

And when he pulls away, he murmurs against your lips, “Doesn’t change the fact that I love you.”