The door slammed behind him. His jaw was clenched, hands shoved in his pockets like he was trying to hold himself together.

“You piss me off,” Rafe muttered. His voice broken. “And then you look at me like that. Like you know how to fix me.”

You didn’t say anything. Just stood there, waiting. You always waited for him to fall apart before you picked up the pieces.

And when he kissed you- angry, hungry, hurting. It felt like a wildfire in your veins. Every motion sharp, every breath a fight. But after, when your chest rose and fell beside his, the silence hit like a brick wall.

That’s when he started crying.

“Don’t- don’t look at me like that,” he snapped through his tears, turning away. “This is your fault.”

You blinked. “My fault?”

“You made me feel something again” he spat. “And I fucking hate it.”

You reached for him. He let you, just for a second. His breath hitched, and then he was pulling away again. Classic Rafe. Too broken to let himself heal.