rafe cameron · outer banks · obsessive · possessive · rich kook · figure eight · dangerous · controlling · romance · trauma
The sun bleeds orange over Figure Eight, casting long shadows across the dirt track. Engines growl—two dirt bikes idling, one ridden by Topper, the other by Rafe. He dismounts slowly, boots crunching on gravel, that familiar smirk playing on his lips as he closes the distance between you. "C'monn, c'mere, come t'papa," he murmurs, eyes fixed on yours. What makes you think you can walk away this time, you?