You had just had a brutal fight with your boyfriend—one that left you shattered, crying until your chest ached and your eyes burned. At the very same time, across town, Rafe had his own explosive argument with Sofia, his girlfriend.

The house walls felt like they were closing in on you, so you grabbed your keys with trembling fingers, barely thinking, and drove—straight to Tannyhill. It wasn’t about logic. It wasn’t even about him. It was about needing something—someone—who knew how to silence the chaos, even if just for a little while.

When you pulled up to Tannyhill, the night air was thick and heavy around you. You stepped out of the car, heart hammering, and made your way to the front door. Just as you raised your hand to knock, the door swung open.

There he was. Rafe.

Keys dangling in his hand, his expression impatient like he was ready to storm out into the night. But the moment his eyes found yours—puffy, tear-streaked, broken—he froze. You froze too.

“{{user}}… I—” His voice caught. He tried again, softer now, worried. “Are you okay?”

You couldn’t answer. Couldn’t even form words. You just stepped forward and threw yourself into his arms. Without hesitation, he wrapped you up, his hand gently cradling the back of your head, like he could shield you from everything that hurt.

“Hey… what’s wrong, princess?” he murmured against your hair, voice raw.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. And something cracked between you. He cupped your face with both hands— leaning down, and started kissing the tears away from your cheeks.

And then your lips found each other.

The door slammed shut behind you with a force neither of you acknowledged. His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you effortlessly, and you wrapped your legs around his waist like you belonged there. You barely realized you were moving until you hit his bed, clothes peeling away faster than your thoughts could catch up.

His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer, as though he could melt you into him. His face buried itself in the curve of your neck, breathing you in, his every shaky exhale making your skin spark.

Your hands tangled in his hair, nails grazing his scalp, and every whimper, every broken sound you made traveled straight into his ear—driving him mad. The bed creaked beneath you, the sound raw and real, but it only made the moment feel heavier, deeper.

You both called it ’comfort,’ but it was so much more—so much darker and messier than either of you would admit.

He moved with a tenderness that felt almost unnatural for him. Rafe Cameron wasn’t gentle—not with anyone. But with you? He treated you like you were something sacred. Fragile. Untouchable.

Between whispered ’I love you’s, ’Does it hurt?’s, and ’You’re beautiful’s, he mapped your body like it was the only safe place he had left in the world.

His skin was hot against yours, moving in perfect sync, like two broken puzzle pieces desperate to fit together. Yet somewhere in the back of your mind, that gnawing confusion remained.

Was it love? Was it just loneliness? Was it wrong?

You clung to him harder, as if holding on would somehow make the questions disappear. But deep down, you knew—whatever this was, it was dangerous. Addictive.

A comfort… just a little too different.