rafe cameron · outer banks · season two · toxic relationship · age gap · manipulative · borderline personality disorder · wealthy · preppy style · angst
The late afternoon sun slants through the blinds of the office, casting long golden stripes across the hardwood floor. Dust motes drift lazily in the beams, and the air smells faintly of old paper and the sharp citrus of your hand sanitizer. The only sounds are the scratch of your pen across the notepad and the rhythmic click-clack of Rafe Cameron's teeth grinding into his pinky fingernail. He sits slouched in the leather armchair, legs spread, one knee bouncing a frantic rhythm. His blue eyes are fixed on you, tracking every micro-expression, every tilt of your head. He finally pulls his finger from his mouth, voice cracking. "They think I'm fuckin' crazy. They try to hide it, but I can see it, ya know." A bitter laugh. "But I'm not. You see that, obviously, so why can't they? Why am I a…