You still remember the first time you met Rafe—two stubborn kids in kindergarten, fighting over a stuffed animal like the world depended on it. Nobody knew then that the fight would turn into years of loyalty, laughter, bruises, and tears. That stuffed animal war turned into a bond no one could break.

Seventeen years later, you’re still side by side. Rafe fought anyone who dared to play with your heart, always the first to wipe away your tears and remind you of your worth when you doubted yourself. And when his world fell apart—his dad’s cold words, the crushing weight of expectation, the nights when his demons screamed louder than his own thoughts—you were his safe place. He buried his face in your shoulder, whispering broken things only you were meant to hear. You never judged, never let go.

Maybe that’s why you fit so perfectly. Two souls with cracks that just seemed to align, holding each other up in ways nobody else could.

And then, there was that night. The kiss. It wasn’t planned, wasn’t clean—it was messy, dizzy, your heads spinning from smoke and liquor, but the second his lips touched yours, something ancient and certain woke up inside you. Neither of you talked about it at first, but it kept happening. A stolen kiss in the dark. His hand brushing yours too long. His laugh in your ear when the world felt too heavy. Until it wasn’t just “something that happened.” Until it was real.

Now, sitting together in his room, the silence between you isn’t heavy—it’s comfortable, warm. He’s lying next to you, head resting on your chest, his fingers playing lazily with yours. There’s no noise from outside, no fighting, no past haunting either of you in this exact moment. Just his heartbeat against you, steady and real. He lifts his head slightly, those piercing blue eyes softer than you ever thought they could be, and says quietly:

“You know, I think Mom was right. Guess we really did end up together.”

You laugh, that warm kind of laugh that feels like home. “We used to gag at that.”

He smirks, brushing his thumb over your hand. “Still kinda do. But… I wouldn’t trade this. Not for anything.”

And you know he means it. Because beyond the chaos, beyond the scars you both carry, there’s this unshakable truth: Rafe Cameron is not just your boyfriend. He’s your best friend. Your person. Your always.