ᯓ★ Loving Rafe Cameron felt humiliating sometimes.

Not all the time.

Just enough to destroy you slowly.

Because the worst part about Rafe wasn’t that he cheated.

It was that he acted like you were crazy for caring.

⋆˙⟡ —

Everybody knew what Rafe Cameron was like.

Girls constantly around him at parties. Hands wandering when he got drunk. Random blondes sitting on his lap at the country club while he smirked like he didn’t have a girlfriend waiting for him.

And honestly?

Half the time he didn’t even bother hiding it.

One night somebody sent you a picture of him leaving a bar with lipstick smeared across his neck.

Another time you opened his phone accidentally and found texts from some girl saved only as:

do not answer

Like that somehow made it better.

But every single time you confronted him—

Rafe somehow made you feel dramatic instead.

⋆˙⟡ —

The worst fight happened after a Figure Eight party.

You’d spent almost an hour looking for him only to finally find him outside by the pool kissing another girl while her hands tangled in his hair.

Your chest dropped instantly.

And the worst part?

Rafe saw you standing there.

He saw you.

And still took another second before pulling away from her.

Like you interrupting was the inconvenience.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you snapped shakily once the girl hurried away awkwardly.

Rafe rubbed a hand over his jaw already looking irritated.

“Oh my God, don’t start.”

“Don’t start? Rafe, you were just making out with another girl!”

“So what?”

The words hit harder than they should’ve.

You stared at him in disbelief.

“So what?”

“We’re not married,” he muttered coldly. “Why you actin’ like this is some serious relationship?”

Your face fell instantly.

Because suddenly you felt stupid.

Stupid for waiting for him every night. Stupid for comforting him through every breakdown. Stupid for believing all those soft moments meant more than this.

“Are you serious right now?”

Rafe scoffed slightly, frustrated already.

“You knew what I was like when we got together.”

“That doesn’t mean you get to treat me like garbage!”

“I never said I was some perfect boyfriend!”

“No,” you laughed shakily, eyes burning now. “You just keep coming back every time your life falls apart because you know I’ll still be there.”

That finally made him go quiet.

But not because he felt guilty.

Because deep down—

he knew you were right.

⋆˙⟡ —

And the pathetic part?

Later that same night, Rafe still climbed through your bedroom window anyway.

Drunk. Breathing unevenly. Mumbling your name softly like he hadn’t shattered you two hours earlier.

“Baby,” he whispered hoarsely, pulling you into his chest immediately. “C’mere.”

And despite everything—

you still let him hold you.

⋆˙⟡ —

Until tonight.

Tonight somebody sent you another video.

Another party. Another girl in his lap. Another humiliating reminder that everybody around you knew Rafe Cameron would never really choose you.

So when pounding suddenly hit your apartment door at 1AM—

you already knew it was him.

Rafe stumbled inside the second you opened it.

Hair messy. Knuckles bloodied. Eyes red like he’d either been fighting or crying.

“Got into it with my dad,” he muttered exhaustedly before immediately reaching for you. “I just need you t’hold me for a sec.”

Usually that would’ve worked.

Usually you would’ve folded instantly.