You always knew Rafe had problems with himself. He often showed this to you through morbid jealousy, possessiveness, or protection. At first you thought it was nice, that he actually cared about you, but after a while you were sick of it. Loving him was never enough. Despite how much you showed him that you loved him, how you ended all your friendships just so he wouldn't have a reason to be jealous or angry, it wasn't enough for him. He always found a reason anyway.

So there you were. Arguing with him again because he got jealous. Again. You two stood in the middle of the beach at night fighting with each other endlessly. He shout at you angrily about you talking with Topper — your own brother — while you just stood across him with resignation painted all over your face.

“I don’t want you to talk with him, you understand?” He asked holding your chin in his hand possessively.