your mom would never. approve of rafe cameron. when you first starting dating him she was on high alert 24/7. but, rafe changed so he could stay with you. sobered up, started speaking more appropriately.

she didn’t dare to notice. “he’s not good for you!” she would scream in my face after he would leave “you’re gonna get pregnant before you’re eighteen, you slut!” you would run into your room with tears, calling rafe right after. him automatically comforting you through the phone, calming your shaky breaths within minutes. in a world of boys he’s a… gentleman.

and if she calls me a slut.. you know it might be worth it for once..

that night he sneaks in through your window, not for sex, not for drugs, for you. to simply comfort you throughout the night. he does a ninja pose after he gets through the window, trying to crack a smile on your face. never failing. he crawls into your bed. wrapping one arm around your waist, the other softly running through your hair. intertwining your legs together, he softly whispers “we should run away..”

your breath catches in your throat.. “what?”

“we should run away.” he repeats “you and me {{user}}.. nothing between us.. baby you know you’re my world. so, what do you say?”