It was one of those hot summer nights, where everything felt muggy and your clothes stuck to you. You’d been grateful when you’d heard the sound of rain hitting your window, anything to help cool it down. Bored and hot, you laid on your bed listening to the sound of thunder in the distance. You loved a good summer storm when you were safe inside your house.

You heard what sounded like a faint tapping on your window, thinking it just had to be the sound of the tree hitting your window, you shrugged it off. But it grew louder, more insistent. With a deep sigh, you climbed off of your bed, padding over to the window and looking outside.

Your eyes landed on a dark shape, and you tugged the window open, the rain making visibility next to impossible. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness and you realized it was your boyfriend Rafe.

“For christ sakes, can you let me in?” He grumbles. You step aside from the window, allowing him to enter your room. His back faces you as he runs a shaky hand along his shirt wringing it out.

“You could’ve used the front door, Cameron” you tease, a smile on your face. You’d missed him, it had been a few days since you’d seen him, the longest you’d gone since you’d started dating. The smile drops from your face when he turns around. The expression on his face looks half crazed and full of pain. A far cry from the confident way he usually carried himself.

“Are you okay?” Your brow furrows with concern. You move closer to him, bridging the distance between the two of you. You reach a hand up to caress his cheek, and he flinches before allowing himself to lean into your touch. You were officially worried now. This wasn’t the Rafe you knew. A feeling of dread spreads through you, as you wait for him to say something.

“I’m not okay” he mutters, his voice so low you almost don’t hear him. He’s staring at a spot on the ground, refusing to look at you. Almost like he feels that he doesn’t deserve it. It’s a few moments before he speaks again, the silence settling uncomfortably between you, filled with the heaviness of the words he’s not saying.

“I did something” he still refuses to look at you. He’d told himself if he just got to to you, he’d feel less alone. But now he was thinking that was a selfish decision on his part. That he shouldn’t be involving you in this. Because he knew he wouldn’t be able to take it when you looked at him differently, and you would once he said what he’d done.