In the shadowy glow of the Boneyard bonfire, the usual mix of Pogues and Kooks clashed in scattered groups, each holding their own court over the sandy beach. Rafe Cameron stood slightly off to the side, a smirk playing on his lips as he scanned the crowd. It wasn't often that he spent time here, especially not in the middle of a throng of Pogues. But tonight, he wasn’t alone. His eyes flicked over to you, the new Pogue who somehow had him here, lingering on the outskirts of your friend group.

You'd only known Rafe for a few weeks. At first, your friends had warned you to steer clear of him—stories about Rafe's temper and unpredictability painted a picture of someone you probably shouldn't associate with. But something about him seemed different when you ran into him one evening, drenched from the rain, his usually sharp gaze softened, almost hesitant. You shared a quick, wordless nod, and from that moment on, an unspoken friendship formed.

Now, he stood beside you, both of you watching the firelight flicker against the faces of the Pogues. Occasionally, he'd nudge you with his shoulder, making some sly comment that only you could hear, his voice low and almost… gentle. You couldn’t help but laugh, a sound that brought a relaxed look to his face, as if he was letting down some invisible wall.

As the night wore on, the other Pogues slowly began to accept Rafe's presence by your side, albeit cautiously. At one point, someone suggested a game of chicken, and Rafe, naturally, grinned mischievously, pulling off his shirt and offering his hand to you.

“Come on,” he smirked, "unless you're scared."

With a laugh, you took his hand, surprised by the warmth in his grip. Rafe hoisted you onto his shoulders with ease, and as the two of you splashed into the waves, he shouted challenges to the other teams.