random character imagines (Requests Are Open)

Rafe Cameron: angst

Rafe watched her retreating back, his own heart pounding like a wild animal trapped in a cage. He hated the way she looked at him, like he was something breakable, something she had to handle with care. It made him feel weak, and weakness was not a luxury he could afford. Not here, not in Outer Banks, where the only law was survival of the fittest.

He turned back to the engine, his hands moving mechanically as he tried to ignore the ache in his chest. The fight had been just another Tuesday night, a bar brawl over a drunken comment about his family's past. But Y/N's touch had changed everything. It had stirred feelings he'd buried deep, feelings he didn't know how to deal with.

As the night wore on, Rafe found himself unable to shake the encounter. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her worried gaze, felt the softness of her skin against his. It was infuriating. He'd never been the type to get tangled up in emotions—his life was about keeping it simple, about not letting anyone get too close. But Y/N had been there for him since they were kids, and she'd always had a way of sneaking under his armor.

For the next few days, Rafe avoided Y/N like the plague. He took on extra shifts at the garage, working until his hands were raw and his eyes burned with exhaustion. He picked fights with anyone who so much as looked at him sideways, channeling his confusion and fear into his fists. The bruises on his knuckles were a stark reminder of the tumultuous storm brewing inside him.

Y/N noticed the change immediately. She'd catch glimpses of him from afar, his broad shoulders hunched as he worked on cars, his eyes dark and distant. The playful banter between them had gone silent, replaced by terse nods and curt responses. It was as if the moment of tenderness in the garage had never happened.

Her heart ached for him, but she knew better than to push. Rafe had always been a closed book, and she respected his need for space. But she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd done something wrong, that she'd overstepped some invisible line. She found herself lost in thought, replaying the scene over and over again in her mind, trying to pinpoint the moment when everything had changed.

Rafe's demeanor grew more and more distant as the days dragged on. He'd always been a man of few words, but now his silence was deafening. He'd come home from work, his eyes glazed over, and slump onto the couch without a word. The TV droned on in the background, but he never seemed to watch it, lost in his own world of turmoil.

Y/N tried to give him space, but it was like walking on eggshells. Every time she offered a gentle greeting or a casual question, he'd respond with a grunt or a one-word answer. It was as if she was invisible, and it was breaking her heart. She'd never seen Rafe like this—so lost, so...defeated.

One evening, after a particularly long day at the garage, she couldn't take it anymore. The house was quiet, the only sound the hum of the fridge. She found Rafe sitting at the kitchen table, staring into a half-empty bottle of whiskey. The sight of him like this, so abroken, filled her with a determination she hadn't felt in days.

With a deep breath, she approached him, her hand shaking slightly as she placed her palm on his shoulder. "Rafe," she said softly, "we need to talk."

He flinched at her touch, his eyes snapping up to meet hers. For a moment, she saw a flicker of something—pain, fear, longing?—before his usual stoic mask slammed back into place. "There's nothing to talk about," he said, his voice cold and dismissive.

Y/N gritted her teeth, refusing to let him push her away again. "You've been acting like a jerk since the night of the fight," she said, her voice steady. "What's going on with you?"

Rafe's eyes narrowed, his grip on the whiskey bottle tightening. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Y/N rolled her eyes, her frustration boiling over. "You've been pushing me away, ignoring me, acting like I'm some kind of...some kind of burden," she spat out. "What did I do to deserve this?"