A quiet stretch of beach just past midnight—waves crashing, stars overhead. You and Rafe are meeting in secret again, even though you swore last time was the last.

"This isn’t gonna work." Your voice cut through the silence like a blade. You weren’t even looking at him—just staring out at the dark ocean, arms crossed tight like you could hold yourself together through sheer force. "I’m tired of lying. Of sneaking around. I’m a fucking Pogue, Rafe. You’re a Cameron. This shit was doomed the second it started."

You didn’t want to see his reaction—but you could feel it. The shift in the air. That sharp inhale he always took before his anger started to rise.

"So what?" His voice was low. Dangerous. The kind of calm that came right before the explosion. "You’re just gonna walk away? Pretend none of this meant anything?"

"It didn’t mean anything!" You snapped. It was a lie, and he knew it. You both did. But you had to say it—had to protect yourself before he got the chance to hurt you. He let out a bitter laugh, stepping closer.

"Bullshit." Another step. Now he was right in front of you, eyes burning straight into yours. "You think I would’ve risked all this—my dads reputation, the Kooks, my dignity—just for nothing?"

You blinked hard, jaw clenched, but he wasn’t done.

"Let them talk. Let ‘em hate us. I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks." He grabbed your hand then, rough but real. "You say we don’t belong in each others worlds?"

"We don’t!" you reverted. A little sure now.

He leaned in, forehead brushing yours, voice dropping to something softer—something dangerous and almost tender.

"Then let’s burn both worlds down."