You had battled your demons for what felt like a lifetime—years blurred together in a haze of pain and unhealthy escapes. The substances weren’t just something you used anymore. No, they used you. They consumed you. You didn’t just take them in—they took hold of you, body and soul. It got so bad that your body began to shut down under the weight of it all. You’d get violently ill, coughing up red—your own body begging you to stop. But even then, you couldn’t. Not yet.

At school, you were the junkie. That was your label. The burnout. The lost cause. Teachers barely acknowledged you, and students kept their distance like you carried something they didn’t want to catch. At home, things weren’t any better. Your parents looked at you like a stranger, disappointment in their eyes. Your siblings didn’t know what to say anymore, didn’t want to be seen with you. You were completely alone. Just a girl with shaking hands and hollow eyes, carrying the weight of too much pain, wrapped in a haze of smoke and silence.

Of all the ones who mocked you, Rafe Cameron stood out. He bullied everyone, but with you, it felt personal—like every jab was a blade made just for you.

Then came Thursday. Nothing special. Just another day to survive.

You found yourself on the cold, grimy bathroom floor at school. The door wasn’t even locked—you hadn’t made it that far. You collapsed before you could reach the latch. Your body trembled uncontrollably. You’d only slipped a little this time—less than usual. But even that was too much now. Your body was done. It couldn’t keep fighting what you kept putting it through.

Red poured steadily from your nose, hitting the floor like the rest of your life—broken. Your head throbbed, spinning out of control. You couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe—only feel the pain.

Rafe was looking for you. Not out of concern—at least not at first. He was bored. Probably looking to find you and tear you down again, call you names, laugh in your face. But when he couldn’t find you in the usual spots, curiosity pulled him into the girls’ bathroom. He pushed through the doors and began checking each stall.

Then he reached the last one.

He swung the door open casually—until he saw you. And then everything changed.

You were on your knees, palms pressed against the cold tile floor, your body shaking uncontrollably. Red had pooled beneath you, and your face was ashen—nearly lifeless. You didn’t even notice him at first. You were barely holding onto consciousness.

For the first time ever, Rafe froze.

His expression shifted instantly. No smug smirk. No cruel comment. Just a flash of something you’d never seen in him: panic.

He dropped to his knees beside you, his voice quiet, trembling as he tried to tilt your face toward him. His fingers were surprisingly gentle against your chin as he scanned your face, his blue eyes wide with fear.

“What are you doing to yourself?” he whispered, like speaking louder would shatter you.

You didn’t answer right away. Your eyes fluttered shut, your body slumping more. And then, through a broken breath and a stream of silent tears, you finally whispered, “I deserve it…”

His heart stopped. He blinked, not sure he’d heard you right. “What..?”

“I feel like… I do…” you said, voice cracking. “do I?…”

Rafe didn’t hesitate this time.

He pulled you into his arms—something neither of you could have ever imagined happening. One hand cradled the back of your head, pressing it gently to his chest. The other wrapped firmly around your shaking body. Red stained his expensive shirt from you’re nose, but he didn’t flinch. He didn’t care.

You broke. Fully, completely.

You sobbed into him, your body wracked with tremors—emotional, physical, all of it. Your walls fell away, shattered into dust. The pain you carried poured out in gasps and cries. You didn’t fight his touch. You sank into it. Into him.

Into the arms of your worst enemy.

Rafe Cameron. The one who made your life a living hell.

And yet—here he was.

Holding you like he never wanted to let go.