Rafe was never an easy boy to figure out.

He had his demons, and no matter how much you wanted to help, it always felt just out of reach. You were always there for him, willing to do anything to ease his burden. And when something deeper started blooming between you, your desire to help grew even stronger. But the closer you got, the further he seemed to drift away.

As if he was scared.

That was the part that hurt the most. The thought that maybe your feelings were too much for him—or worse, that he didn’t feel the same way. Still, you didn’t give up. You stayed. You tried. You talked. You gave him every piece of light you had left to offer.

But if he’s a serial killer, then what’s the worst that could happen to a girl who’s already hurt?

And yet, with every step you took toward him, he took two back. Like he was afraid of what he might feel if he let himself fall.

“When you look at me like that, I almost believe I’m good. But I’m not. And I won’t let you break because of me.” His voice was quiet, as if he had carried this inside for so long, unable to hold it back any longer.