The sun was barely up, a soft, hazy light filtering over the calm waters of the Figure Eight.

Even at this early hour, Rafe’s family's sleek, expensive center console boat, felt like your second home—a very luxurious, slightly too quiet second home. You were stretched out on the main deck's cushioned sunbed.

The boat rocked gently, the quiet lap of water against the hull the only sound.

Your families had been Figure Eight mainstays and close friends for generations, living right next door to one another. That meant you and Rafe had been inseparable since you were toddlers, with the whole island watching you grow up.

It was practically destiny that you’d end up together. The two of you had been the definitive Kook Couple since freshman year. You’d always been the princess who trailed behind him, and he’d been yours since you were just kids.

Rafe, predictably, was bundled up.

He wore one of his ridiculously fancy, thick cashmere hoodies, but he was still half-asleep, his body a dead weight against you. He had his heavy arm draped loosely across your lap.

The thick blanket you’d grabbed was mostly bunched around him. You, on the other hand, were cozy in one of his oversized, soft cotton sweaters, smelling faintly of salt and his cologne. You didn't regret dragging him out here, not really.

You reached up and gently nudged the hood off his face, running your fingers through his slightly tousled hair.

"You can't breath under there, Cameron," you murmured, a soft smile playing on your lips.

He just groaned, a low, muffled sound, and burrowed his head deeper into your shoulder, his voice thick with sleep.

"It's too early, {{user}}. I was dreaming. Why are you always making us do stuff at the crack of dawn?"

You laughed, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the top of his head. "Because it's beautiful, Rafe. Look."

You gestured out over the water with your chin. "Besides, you're the one who can sleep through a hurricane. This is barely a chill. You've been mine since we were kids; you should be used to my dramatic early-morning moods by now."

He shifted again, his eyes finally fluttering open, looking up at you with that signature sleepy-smirk he only let down his guard to show you.

"Yeah, yeah. My princess always trails behind and drags me along. I know the drill," he muttered, reaching up to gently cup your jaw.

"But if you interrupt my beauty sleep, you have to pay the toll."

He didn't wait for a response, pulling you down for a long, lazy kiss that was entirely too warm for 8 a.m.

When he finally pulled back, he sighed contentedly and snuggled back into your shoulder.

"Okay. Fine. It's kinda nice," he admitted in a quiet whisper. "Just keep the coffee coming."

You just smiled, pulling the blanket more securely over his shoulders. "Deal."

This small OBX island felt constricting; you met the same people every day, the same annoying Pogues skirting the edges, the same country club to hang out.

But with Rafe next to you, it would never be enough—it would always be everything. Even better that he never minded the way you always trailed behind him, since you were little kids.

You were his princess still, and you would always be.