You remember the first time Rafe noticed you. It was in the library, that quiet corner where you always escaped to after classes. You were sitting there, legs tucked under you on the chair, wearing your favorite jeans and a simple white tank top with a soft pink cardigan draped over your shoulders. The pink bow in your hair caught the sunlight filtering through the window, making you look like you belonged in a different world—one quieter, gentler, more delicate than the noisy halls of high school.

Rafe was everything you weren’t. Popular, loud, the center of attention. But somehow, when he saw you that day, something inside him shifted. You looked so peaceful, so genuine, and undeniably cute. When he finally worked up the courage to talk to you, you thought it was a joke at first. But he kept coming back, sitting beside you in the library or catching your eye in the cafeteria. Slowly, the wall of silence you wrapped around yourself began to crumble.

After a few weeks, he asked if you wanted to be his girlfriend. Your heart felt like it might burst. You—quiet, unnoticed you—being noticed by Rafe Cameron. It felt like a dream.

⸻

Tonight, like so many nights before, you hear the soft creak of your window sliding open. Rafe’s silhouette slips inside, careful not to wake your parents. You barely lift your head when he appears in your room. Instead, you’re sitting on the floor, your back against the bed, tears streaming silently down your cheeks.

He’s immediately beside you, his presence warm and solid. “Hey,” he says gently, sitting close enough that your shoulders brush. “What’s wrong?”

You try to swallow the lump in your throat, but the tears won’t stop. “It’s Lizzy,” you whisper, voice trembling. “She said something mean again. It’s been going on for months… and you didn’t even know.”

Rafe’s brow furrows. He knows Lizzy—the queen of cruelty at school, always throwing insults like daggers. But hearing it’s been happening behind your back, unseen by him, hits him hard.

“I feel… so alone sometimes,” you confess, your voice breaking. “And I keep wondering if I’m even enough for you. Like, why would someone like you want to be with me?”

Rafe’s hand finds yours, squeezing it gently but firmly. “Hey, look at me,” he says, lifting your chin until your eyes meet his. His gaze is fierce but tender, filled with something deeper than just teenage affection.

“You’re more than enough. You’ve always been enough. Lizzy’s words don’t define you—not to me, not to anyone who matters. And if you ever feel alone, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You let yourself lean into him, the ache in your chest softening for the first time in months. In that moment, the world outside your window feels distant and unimportant. All that matters is the warmth of Rafe’s arms around you, and the promise that you’re not alone anymore.