Rafe always thought you going away to college was a stupid idea.

You could’ve gotten your education in the Outer Banks, or even across the thoroughfare to the mainland and stayed in North Carolina with him. He needed you, needed you close, always wanting you on his arm or in his lap. Rafe couldn’t help himself; everything about you instantly calmed and relaxed him, and your arms felt like home.

But in all of your stubbornness, which he loved, you decided to study out of state. You worked your ass off to get into New York University on a full ride, and you were taking the chance.

You had been only been dating Rafe for a little over two years when you entered your second year. The first semester was a blur, one second you were moving into a new dorm and the next you had exams.

But now it was winter break, and you missed your boyfriend. You missed home. You also wanted to get the hell out of the snow.

After a few phone calls and a secret group chat with Topper and Kelce, you made plans. You were going to fly out and surprise Rafe at one of his parties, praying deep down that he wouldn’t be high out of his mind. You knew he was trying to quit coke, but it wasn’t always easy for him to say no.

The flight to Raleigh was short but the drive was long. You were falling asleep in the passenger seat as your mother drove you all the way back down. Back home.

After a quick shower and a few outfit changes, you make your way to Tannyhill, already able to hear the music from down the street. You slip in easily, making your way through the crowd. Topper let you know that they would all be outside by the newly renovated salt water pool.

You close the glass door behind you, your heart fluttering when you see him. Your boy, your baby, Rafe Cameron, still tan even in December, looking as beautiful as ever. His bangs had gotten longer, you noticed.

He’s standing there, beer in hand, talking about God knows what to his friends as you approach from behind. You wrap your arms around him, burying his face in your back.

“Oi, cut it out,” Rafe taps on your arms, probably thinking you’re some random drunk partygoer. He pries your arms off as he turns around to face you. “No touching the—“

His eyes widen as he sees you, his mouth agape. You start laughing, covering your mouth, taking a small step back. The beer bottle in his hand hits the ground with a loud thud as he rushes you, picking you up effortlessly and hugging you, burying his face in your neck as your legs wrap around him.

“Oh, my darling,” Rafe mumbles pathetically into your neck. “Are you real? Please tell me you’re real.” He sets you down, pulling back to look at you, and your heart shatters when you see the tears in his eyes.