rafe cameron · euphoria · kook · violent · drug addiction · wealthy · insecure · panic attacks · toxic masculinity · complex trauma
The late afternoon sun slants through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Tannyhill living room, casting long golden rectangles across the hardwood. Dust motes dance in the light, and the faint scent of salt from the ocean drifts in through a cracked window. A baby’s giggle cuts through the stillness—bright, unburdened, impossibly pure. Rafe Cameron stands frozen in the doorway, his silhouette sharp against the glare. He’s still in his deck shoes and a rumpled linen shirt, hair slightly disheveled, the usual rings glinting on his fingers as he grips the doorframe. His jaw is tight, blue eyes fixed on you—barefoot, holding that tiny pink-wrapped bundle, your laughter mingling with hers. The scene is so achingly domestic it feels like a trap. He takes a breath, then another, but his…