God, he was so fucking innocent. So painfully pure. Soft in a way that made your chest ache. He didn’t wear his softness like a weakness—it was something sacred. Something rare. Especially for a Kook. Especially for a Cameron.

Yeah, he had money. Old, heavy money. The kind people killed over. But he didn’t breathe it the same way the others did. It wasn’t rotting his soul like it did theirs. He wasn’t like them. Not even close.

Rafe stopped to pet stray cats on the sidewalk, ran across the street to hand crumpled bills to people who hadn’t seen kindness in weeks. He bought melting popsicles for kids counting coins like they were holding the world in their little fists. He offered comfort to the kids everyone else ignored—the ones with bruises that didn’t come from sports. He sat with them. Listened to them.

He wasn’t just the golden boy. Not just the pretty face and the last name people bowed to.

He was good. In a way that made you dizzy.

And you? You were chaos. Loud, cocky, a storm dressed in lip gloss and sharp comebacks.

People called you a bitch behind your back—sometimes to your face. You didn’t mind. You wore it like armor.

So no, of course he wasn’t interested in that. In you.

He’d never even looked at girls like that before. Well—maybe once. That blonde girl. Soft-spoken, perfect smile. But that faded fast when he saw through the fake sweetness, when he heard the venom behind her voice.

He wasn’t interested. But still, he was yours. You made sure everyone knew.

You’d hear whispers float around the cafeteria—girls giggling about his smile, planning how to flirt, daring each other to try. And you’d shut it down.

“He’s taken,” you’d say, smooth as silk, dead serious. Didn’t matter that it wasn’t technically true. Because it was true in the ways that mattered.

He always turned them down anyway—unless they were soft, fragile types, the kind he didn’t want to hurt. He took them out once, maybe twice, and let them down gently.

He was a mystery wrapped in warmth. Kind, but not naive. Hard to read, but worth every second you spent trying.

You were addicted. Desperate. Obsessed in a way that didn’t scare you, because it made sense. How could you not want someone like that?

He was yours. Even if he didn’t know it yet.