Kooks and Pogues.

Always one against the other.

That's how it's always been in the Outer Banks. It’s a rule as old as the island, one that never changed and never will. Growing up, those lines were clear, and you were taught to stay on your side of them. It would be a scandal if they crossed, right?

You were never one to care about something as stupid as that. Until you discovered the clear culture divide between the two, and you began to understand how differently they were brought up.

Rafe was the epitome of everything wrong with kooks. Superficial, acting superior to people who resided on the cut.

He was supposed to hate you, and he forced himself to pretend. With his distasteful glares and snarky remarks that he knew would rile you up. It was endearing, the way you had something to say about anything and everything.

Enemies. That’s what you were, and always will be — but there you were ; in his bed. Again. Each time, you swear it will be the last. But you always find your way back to each other without fail.

Rafe couldn’t lie to himself and pretend he hadn’t got a little attached. Enjoying a pogues company? It was quite literally taboo. Unspoken ; forbidden.

However, commitment was an unspoken topic to never be brought up. Everything meant nothing - to him, at least. Mutually assured destruction, he called it. You both had the power to ruin each others reputation, if you wanted to.

He seemed content, his fingers mindlessly tracing patterns up your arm while his other hand held his phone. But when he heard your question, he paused.

’what are we doin?’

Rafe immediately became uptight, his face twisting in confusion, like he wasn’t sure what you were asking. “We’re just chillin’, y’know?” He shrugs casually, brushing it off, as he always does.