THIRTY - SIX
❝Home.❞
─ ☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆ ─
Red had always been Ophelia's colour.
Dark hair, tanned olive coloured skin. The ruby emerald colour had been her trademark. Like mother, like daughter. Rafe Cameron had loved the Martin girl dressed head to toe in a tight fitted red dress, almost as much as he liked it on her plump lips, ones that begged to smear a light shade of pink onto his own.
Even now, the red and blue lights emitted from the top of the cop car, red had and always will be Ophelia's colour.
She had been a few feet away, straying from the two boys as she collected her thoughts - better yet, let her self completely fall apart from the past few days events. She was a mess, that she knew, though couldn't bare to let Rafe see her breaking.
"It's there. It's all there."
Ophelia couldn't try hard enough to push Ward's enthused words from her brain. He was standing a few feet away, trying to looking towards his son though couldn't help but keep his eyes glued to the Martin girl.
He had always loved Ophelia as his own. He, much like the Martin's, knew Ophelia and Rafe were bound to cross paths intimately at one point or another. At this point in time, he was rather nervous Ophelia would become far more than an ally, but a distraction.
Looking away from Ophelia and towards his son, all accusations were met, the Cameron boy never breaking his stare away from the dark haired girl.
Even in the dark of the night, sweat glistened off of every visible inch of Rafe's skin, his fingers trembling at his sides as his father sunk into the seat next to him. He hadn't moved an inch, as much as tensed a muscle. Instead, Rafe's stone cold stare was set upon Ophelia, nothing but utter anger on his mind.
"Look, Rafe, I know you're upset." Ward Cameron could sense his son's bitter feelings, one that despite how it looked, was not aimed towards Ophelia. He couldn't bare to look away, not even for a second.
"I know you're feeling bad, but you don't have to." Rafe remained still, eyes set on Ophelia. "I know you didn't mean to hurt her."
Rafe winced softly, his eyes falling down Ophelia's tanned legs, watching as the girl scrubbed away at the dried dirt now imbedded into her skin. "They checked all the hospitals, the morgue. It's good news."
Ward sighed softly. "She's okay. She'll come back to us."
For a moments time, Rafe couldn't help but let his attention fall fully onto his father, his lips spread out in a thin line. "What if I'm not okay?" Rafe spoke softly, earning Ward's concerned stare. "I'm not okay." Rafe repeated.
The Cameron boy's head fell into his hands, a whirl of emotions burning through his stomach as his father told him over and over that he was okay. If he had been told it enough, maybe then he ought to believe it.
"Get it under control." At this point, Ophelia had spun on her heels, barely noticeable in the dark corner she made her self comfortable in, ripping off the hem of her already cropped tank top, wrapping the fabric firmly around her dislocated fingers, one that flickered purple and blue.
Rafe, rising to his feet, head still in his hands as he spoke. "I've been having these, um, thoughts in my head, and I don't know if I can control them." The boy rambled on, to which Ward rose with the boy, holding his hand out to Ophelia, as if to keep her away for the time being.
She obliged, for now.
"I don't know how much more of this shit I can take." Rafe admitted lowly, his back turned towards the Martin girl, who burned a stare through his sweat ridden t-shirt. "I don't need her, okay? I need help."
Ward, in attempts to hush his son, wrapped one hand around his neck, the other on his back as he pulled him into his chest, ignoring the growing concern from the officers a few feet away. "Look at me, man up." Ward spoke softly.
"Man up?" Rafe mimicked lowly. "Man up." Ward spoke sternly, to which Rafe's lips curled upwards, barely, but noticeable. "These thoughts, in my head." Rafe sighed. "I want to hurt them for touching her. All I needed was her, and they, they took her."
Ward's eyes met with Ophelia, and as fast as he was consoling his son, Ward took off in the direction to inform the officers that Rafe was in fact fine, mentally-stable and not unleashing his plans to hurt the people who took Ophelia.
Instead, he was merely shook up, and his rambling and trembling limbs were not due to anger, but fear. Or so, Ward would say.
In an instant, Rafe spun on his heels, eyes darting around the dark perimeter in attempts to find Ophelia. He felt his stomach drop, complete and utter panic washing over him. "Ophelia?" His voice was barely audible, cracking with each syllable, tears welling in his blood shot eyes. "Ophelia!"
Legs carrying her as fast as they could, Ophelia's bandaged hand rested lightly on Rafe's shoulder, to which the boy spun around effortlessly, hands wounding around Ophelia's waist, tugging her in so close, her feet barely managed to stay on the ground.
"I'm right here." Ophelia spoke quietly, ignoring the growing stares as the pair in sync tuned out Ward Cameron's words, only caring about what one another had to say. It was all that mattered, especially now.
Rafe couldn't help but take in every inch of Ophelia - her stained blue converse, her bruised and cut legs, all the way to her forced smile and wrapped fingers, ones he took in his own hand gently, thumb brushing against the surface.
"I hurt you." Rafe spoke lowly, clouded eyes only growing further more with tears. "No, Rafe." Ophelia replied. "I did." The boy argued. "I hurt you. I don't ever want to hurt you." Ophelia's hands found way to Rafe's face, wiping away at the stray tears that decided to fall.
"You don't love someone because they're perfect, Rafe." Ophelia spoke softly, holding Rafe's face gently between her hands, the boy melting in her embrace. "You love them in spite of the fact that they're not."
At first, Rafe smiled softly. Before he knew it, a wide, lit up smile outstretched on his face, and for a moments time, the pain and fear had completely washed away. "What we have, O, is more than love."
Ophelia smiled. "You're okay, Rafe. We're okay." At this point in time, Rafe sunk into Ophelia, allowing her to wrap her arms firmly around the base of his neck, letting his head fall into hers, ignoring the salty tears that grew noticeable on her skin, only hugging the Cameron boy tighter.
"I needed you." Rafe cried softly, his fingers digging into Ophelia's back, almost as if she could get any closer, the boy craving her touch now more than ever. "I fucking needed you, O." Ophelia felt her own cheeks damp, one hand remained on his shoulder, the other finding way into Rafe's hair, tugging at the sandy brown locks.
In the short, three day time period that Ophelia and Rafe had been apart, murderous thoughts had been the only thing on the Cameron boy's mind. He was beyond angry, infuriated, and he swore to get revenge on anyone who hurt Ophelia.
He needed help, not for what Ward or outsiders thought was trauma, the burden of killing Sheriff Peterkin haunting his mind, but the fear he held of loosing Ophelia again when he sought out with his well planned agenda.
Hurt those who hurt her.
Soft green eyes meeting with his, Rafe couldn't help but smile, one hand remained on the small of her back, the other finding way to her face, his fingers curling around her jaw line, grasping it ever so softly.
"Me and you?" Ophelia nodded softly, the corners of her lips curling upwards. "Me and you, Rafe. No matter what."
A warm, overwhelming sensation ran through the boy's veins, every inch of his body relaxing into Ophelia's hold, his eyes never tearing away from the girl as he tugged her closer, pressing his lips to hers.
It was as if he couldn't get enough, the usual taste of strawberry chapstick and coconut shampoo masked with the taste of salt and metal and hair smelling like the ocean, he couldn't help but fall more in love with her, as if he was starting over again and again each day.
For Rafe, home wasn't a place, but a person, and in Ophelia, he was finally home.
─ ☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆ ─
Author's Note
IM SORRY FOR THE WAIT.
The gif is tremendously sad, I apologize in advance.
I can't get over how well this story has done in the past week. You guys are amazing.
I've noticed a lot of negative comments, and a lot about not liking my writing, scenes in the story, ie. I apologize if you do not like how I write, how I portray Rafe and Ophelia, or scenes I edit to become my own. I try my best to aim to the readers and what you like to see, though at the end of the day this is my story, and I will write it how I please.
The negative and mimicking comments make me loose motivation. So please, I love to hear your ideas and any criticism, but if you plain out do not like my writing/story, I don't see a point in the negative comments.
Thank you to all who have supported this story, commented, liked, and messaged me about it. You all make me so very happy. I love you all. Please continue to message me, I love meeting/talking to you!
Bare with me, things are going to get heated, in the good way, very very soon! I'm trying to drag out this season into as many chapters as I can.
ENJOY. XO