Rafe Cameron, the guy short tempered, feared by half the island and with a not entirely good reputation, found himself weak and completely infatuated with a pink and flowers built girl. Sweet enough to give him cavities, a sickening feeling in his stomach that he can never understand if it can also be pleasant or not.

When he met you, and your big, innocent eyes looked up his, he already knew he was fucked up.

You were so delicate that he wanted to ruin you, because he knew that as soon as his finger rested on your perfect skin he would outrage you. Like a painting hanging in a museum, of inestimable value, vandalized.

You were quite the perfect opposites. It wasn't uncommon for everyone to wonder how someone like him had conquered someone like you. Physical appearance aside. Especially when you walked into a casual party, with him possessively wrapping his muscular arm around your slim waist covered in the glittery fabric of your mini dress — short enough to make any human with two eyes dream

"I always want you by my side tonight, m’kay? Since you insisted so much on this dress" He murmured in your ear in a low and husky voice, almost authoritative. You just nodded, smiling sweetly at him. You loved his thoughtfulness, after all.

That sight from the outside was peculiar, to say the least. The sun and the moon. You shone with your own light as he fed from you, using yours as an artificial one.