When your friends and you agreed to go to Morocco, together on one boat with Rafe Cameron, you already knew it wouldn’t go well.

He was reckless, unpredictable, quite literally dangerous, and your friends hated him, so it had to escalate eventually.

And it did. It didn’t take long for JJ having enough and punching Rafe in the face, causing him to pass out and giving the other Pogues the opportunity to tie him up in a small room under the deck.

They all kept on talking about their plan to get the crown once you‘d arrive in Morocco, but you couldn’t focus.

A part of you felt weirdly bad for Rafe, about he‘d just be locked in there, all alone, not even having something to eat. You felt something in your stomach twist, and you stood up, deciding to check on him.

As you opened the door, you found him on the floor, back leaned against the wall, hands tied together, skin glistening with sweat.

You swallowed, leaning down to place a small tray next to him, a sandwich and medicals on it. „There‘s some aspirin in there if you need it.“

He sat up straighter with a quiet groan, not even giving you a look. „Aspirin? Oh, what, are you gonna…throw it in my mouth like a seal?“

You didn’t answer, your fingers nervously tapping against the doorframe. „No one trusts you, Rafe“, you spoke again after a while. „And honestly, why would they?“

Now he turned his head to look at you, his piercing blue eyes that still managed to be intimidating now staring up at you. „I was trying to help.“

He let out a scoff as you stayed quiet for a few moments. You knew that he actually did help for once, that was why a part of you felt so goddamn guilty. But you couldn’t just untie him again, the others would be angry.

„We‘ll let you off when we get there, but until then, no one trusts you“, you said, turning to leave, but Rafe kicking against the tray held you back.

„You don’t trust me, y/n? You used to, remember?“, his voice lowered, and he stared at you intensely. „You‘re just gonna leave me hanging now, huh?“