Your love with Rafe has always been rocky.

From the start, your friends have warned you about him—about his short temper, his tendency to lash out, his drug dealing and addiction—yet you still foolishly ignored their words and chose to be with him anyway, cherishing the moments where he was more soft, more vulnerable with you.

But you couldn't wait for those moments to come everyday, and the more the two of you dated, the more you realized just how fragile your relationship with Rafe Cameron was. As if it was a house of cards that you and him built, time-consuming and complex, yet all it took was one strong blow of wind and all of your effort will collapse, leaving you the debris and heartbreak of his absence.

Deep in your gut you knew that the smartest choice was to leave—to protect yourself from the eventual crash that was waiting for you—but stupidly, you stayed, clinging onto the flimsy hope, onto the way he secretly stares at you when no one was around, and you guessed that he must’ve felt the same, because he stayed too.

Tonight was the same, you and Rafe were invited to a house party hosted by one of the Kooks in his neighborhood. Immediately, Rafe lost himself in the substances and alcohol, dragging you along with him despite knowing that you didn't fuck with any of that.

Annoyed and upset, you stormed off in the middle of a conversation, finding yourself on an empty balcony where there was silence, and you stood alone for a while before heavy footsteps could be heard.

“Baby”—Rafe’s voice intruded your ears, and the irritation from before suddenly coming back. “Are you mad at me again? What did I do now?”—His voice came out in a groan, and you wanted to scream at him for being so clueless as to how you felt.