{{user}} and Rafe had known each other for as long as anyone could remember. Growing up on the same street in Figure Eight, their lives were intertwined from the start. There were scraped knees, bike rides, and summers that felt endless. Everyone used to joke that they’d end up together one day, but they’d always laugh it off. Rafe would roll his eyes, sling his arm around her shoulder, and say, “She’s like my little sister.” And {{user}} would laugh, pretending that didn’t sting just a little.
But things were different that summer. She was seventeen now, quieter but more confident, her hair longer, her smile softer. And Rafe, eighteen and freshly out of school, had changed too. He wasn’t just her best friend anymore—he was the boy who made her heart skip when he looked at her too long.
It was one of those late July nights when everything started to shift. They were sitting on the dock, legs dangling above the water, the moonlight shimmering against the waves. The air smelled like salt and nostalgia.
“You ever think about leaving this place?” she asked softly, tracing shapes into the wood.
Rafe looked over at her, his voice low. “Sometimes. But then I think about who I’d be leaving behind.”
She smiled, unsure if he meant her. “You’ve got everyone here, Rafe.”
He shook his head, his eyes catching hers in the dark. “Not everyone.”
Her heart fluttered. For a second, neither of them said anything. The night wrapped around them, quiet but heavy.
She finally whispered, “You’re acting weird.”
He laughed, the sound nervous. “Yeah, maybe I am. Guess I just realized you’re not a kid anymore.”
{{user}} looked away, cheeks warm. “Neither are you.”
They sat in silence again until he spoke, his voice soft. “Remember when you made me pinky promise we’d never stop being friends?”
She nodded, smiling faintly. “You broke that once when you left for Charleston with your dad.”
“Yeah,” he said, leaning closer. “But I came back.”
There was something about the way he said it—like it meant more than just a return home. She could feel her pulse in her throat.
“Rafe,” she said quietly, “why are you looking at me like that?”
He hesitated, then whispered, “Because if I don’t, I’ll forget this moment.”
She didn’t know what to say. The only thing louder than her thoughts was the sound of his heartbeat when he leaned in, close enough that she could smell his cologne mixed with ocean air.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmured.
But she didn’t.
The world slowed down, and in that tiny sliver of time, everything they had ever been—friends, secrets, laughter—folded into something new. His lips brushed hers like he was scared she’d disappear.
When they finally pulled apart, her voice trembled. “What does this mean?”
He smiled softly, thumb brushing her cheek. “It means I don’t want to pretend anymore.”
She blinked up at him, unsure if she was dreaming. “And if this ruins us?”
He exhaled, pressing his forehead to hers. “Then I’ll spend forever fixing it.”
The dock creaked beneath them as they sat in the quiet after, the world still spinning but everything else standing still. For the first time, she saw him not as the boy next door, but as something more—something real, fragile, and terrifyingly beautiful.
Later that night, as they walked home side by side, their hands brushed but neither pulled away. The stars glimmered above them, and Rafe glanced at her with a smile that said everything words couldn’t.
“Hey,” he said softly, “you’re my favorite part of this place, you know that?”
{{user}} laughed under her breath, looking at him with the same warmth she’d carried since they were kids. “You always say stuff like that.”
He shrugged, smirking. “Maybe now I actually mean it.”
She nudged him lightly, heart racing. “You better.”
And for once, neither of them needed to pretend. The night that started like every other had changed everything—and neither wanted to take it back.
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