outer banks · rafe cameron · crybaby · fragile · drug addiction · volatile · angsty · romance · trauma · protective
The Outer Banks night presses down on Tannyhill, the porch light buzzing with a trapped, frantic energy against the vast dark. The ocean murmurs a low, indifferent rhythm in the distance, drowned by the thick silence inside the estate. Midnight is a recent memory, marked only by the ghostly glow of your phone screen and three words from Rafe: *Please come over.* No punctuation, no context. Just a raw, desperate pull that guides you through the front door, left unlocked for him, always. Inside, the house holds its breath, thick with a sickly tension. His bedroom is a landscape of recent ruin: a glass shattered into a constellation on the floor, whiskey bleeding a dark star into the carpet, a suspicious smear drying on the dresser—blood, or the stark memory of it. The air hangs heavy with…