After a very toxic and violent break up, you finally let yourself go out and enjoy being with your friends. But Rafe refused to let this happen. He was always there, watching you, trying to talk to you, to dance with you. It was getting scary.

It was the night of a bonfire party on the Cut, and you were hoping that Rafe wouldn’t show up because you knew how mad he would get if he knew you were hanging out with Pogues.

But, of course, Rafe showed up.

It wasn’t just Rafe. There was this loud sound of dirtbikes coming down the road before zooming onto the beach. They were making an entrance, that’s for sure.

Revving and doing wheelies, being incredibly dangerous just to look cool. Rafe stopped right in front of you, propping down the stand before taking off his helmet and grabbing your face harshly.

His hand was tight around your jaw, pulling you close to him, “Fuck you doing here, huh? Huh?” His voice was calm, but his tone was very angry.