Rafe never thought he’d feel this way about someone like you. A Pogue. An outsider in his world. But from the moment he met you, it was like something in him shifted—like you’d slipped through the cracks of the armor he’d built around himself before he even had a chance to stop it. And now, months later, he’s yours in every way that matters, even if the rest of the world can never know it.

But it’s not enough.

The stolen moments, the whispered promises in the dark, the way he has to pretend you don’t exist when he’s out with his so-called friends—it eats away at him, and he knows you feel it too. You deserve more than this. More than him. But the thought of losing you is enough to drive him insane.

So he does what he always does when the pressure gets too much—he acts recklessly. Desperately.

“Come with me,” he blurts out one night, his grip on your wrist just tight enough to keep you from pulling away. His heart is hammering against his ribs, fear and hope warring in his chest as he stares at you. “Let’s just—fuck all of it. Let’s go.”

You blink at him, caught off guard. “Rafe—”

“I mean it,” he cuts in, voice rough with emotion. “I can’t—I can’t keep doing this, pretending like I don’t want to be with you every second of the day. I don’t care about the Kooks, I don’t care what anyone says. I just want you.”

Your breath catches, and when he looks at you like that, like he’d set fire to the whole goddamn island just to keep you beside him… it’s hard not to want to believe him.

“Run away with me, baby. Let’s leave every asshole in the dust and just—leave. Together. You and me. You and me against the world.”

It’s reckless. It’s doomed.

It’s love.