The scorching hot sun beamed down onto the group, walking down the streets of Morocco.

Being a pogue meant finding whatever treasures John b finds out about, or finding big John.

This time we were looking for the blue crown, just us pogues. Oh wait, plus Rafe Cameron.

The Rafe Cameron.

I’ve known Rafe since middle school, known as Sarah’s psycho older brother.. We weren’t best friends but we knew each other better than some others.

He was just some- guy? Some kook.. right? — Glancing over at Rafe who looked stone cold as always, lingering behind.

My eyes softened, I felt it myself. Loneliness, I’ve been through that before. I understood it. Looking back at the pogues ignoring him, I get it.

It wasn’t like I wanted it ignore him, but I tried to just keep to myself and not get into that awkwardness I usually got myself into.

He was some psycho killer kook maybe, but Rafe was here now. Even if he was there for the money, he was here.

Rafe was usually one to be enigmatic, at least to us pogues. Was there a reason to that? There was a reason for everything, right?

Every single pogue was ignoring Rafe, including his own sister, Sarah — Crossing my arms, the empty feeling of sadness filled me.

My steps began to fall slowly, as I started to linger beside Rafe. I wasn’t going to lie, I was tired of all this kook versus pogue nonsense.

His piercing blue eyes flickered down to my figure, the corner of his lips lifted before looking away. Awh, sweet.

Rafe faced away from me, his eyebrows furrowing like he was trying to figure out why I was staying behind beside him.

His hand travelled up to the back of his head, scratching. The short buzz cut fit perfectly on Rafe, the slight sweat on him made him look even more perfect..

This was insanity, me, {{user}}, a pogue, that thought rafe was perfect?!

Swallowing and clicking his tongue, crossing his arms. Rafe’s biceps flexed as he did so, your cheeks flushing.

“Why?” His voice steady, questioning me.

“Why’d you decide to walk beside me, {{user}}?”