The moon hung low over the beach, its pale glow casting a silvery sheen across the calm waves that lapped softly at the shore. The night air was thick with the smell of saltwater and smoke from the bonfire that had burned brightly just hours before. Now, it was nothing more than smoldering embers, casting faint, flickering shadows across the sand. Most of the crowd had drifted away, leaving the beach quiet and almost eerie in its emptiness. You stayed behind, listening to the soft hiss of the waves as they met the shore, the distant hum of the night’s leftover energy still lingering in the air.

Then, out of the quiet, you heard it—footsteps crunching through the sand behind you. They were heavy and slow, deliberate in their approach. You stiffened, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end as you turned to face the figure emerging from the shadows.

Rafe.

His tall frame was bathed in moonlight, making him look almost ghostly. His usually polished, preppy appearance was rougher tonight—his light brown hair tousled and damp with sweat, sticking slightly to his forehead. His skin had a faint sheen to it, like he had been walking for a while, or perhaps from the leftover adrenaline of whatever chaos he had been up to earlier. His blue eyes, typically sharp and cold, looked hollow tonight—red-rimmed, as if he hadn’t slept in days.

“What are you doing here, Rafe?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended, betraying the instinctive wariness that rose inside you.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stuffed his hands deep into his pockets, his gaze drifting over to the dying bonfire. The light from the embers reflected off his face, casting shadows that deepened the tired lines beneath his eyes. He looked at you, his eyes were stormy, filled with something unreadable—anger, maybe.

“Trying to clear my head.” he muttered, almost like he didn’t want to admit it. His voice had a raw edge, like he was barely keeping his emotions in check. “Is that not allowed anymore?”