rafe had a reputation. the kind that girls either loved or hated in a guy. you were stuck somewhere in the middle on that scale. ever since you moved to outer banks a few months ago, rafe had asked you several times for a chance, a chance to take you out to dinner or have a few drinks. being as indecisive as you are, you turned to the pogues from advice. who simply had nothing more to say then he’s trouble.

so everytime he asked, he received the same answer of no, yet he still asked consistently. someone like rafe didn’t spark you as the most committed type. espically when he has a line of girls basically on their knees for him. but he chose to keep pestering you for a chance. it made you wonder what was so special about someone like yourself.

it was driving him insane. not that he’d admit it, he’s far from humble but every rejection is bringing his ego down the earth a little more each time. he couldn’t understand why you were saying no each time, but he didn’t push once you’d given a final answer.

eventually you caved, without telling any of the pogues - you accepted rafes invitation to the country club for a few drinks on a friday evening. admittedly, he put in more effort then you were expecting to make conversations and have the qualities of a ‘gentlemen’. which consisted of paying for your drinks and holding open doors for you.

now your a few drinks and conversations in, when rafe is more curious about what type of person you are. he leant forward against the bar counter, holding his beer bottle by the neck, looking at you stood in the barstool besides him.

“so, tell me about you.” he requested, followed a shrug. he was extremely vague, you could probably guess that lies under the ‘about you’ categories but maybe you were hoping for something specific.