ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby - Cigarettes After Sex
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2:40 ———|———— -4:46
𝒩𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔'𝓈 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶 𝒽𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎
𝒩𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔'𝓈 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒
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Pulling into Isla's driveway, Rafe looked up in the rearview mirror, trying to rub the dried blood from around his mouth.
"Come on," Isla jumped out, "I'll clean you up." She felt a hand on her lower back gently, as she unlocked her door.
Something about it was strange to her, how easy it was to pretend with him like they were fully grown. Walking into her house, a part of her liked the feeling that this could be their home, of what it might be like to walk through the door of their own place.
Rafe, having never been to her house, fit in like he was a part of the furniture. Something about his presence always felt right in hers.
"It's exactly how I thought it would be." He said aloud leaning against the counter looking around, she turned to him with a glass of water for both of them.
She leaned on the island opposite him biting her lip. "Yeah?"
He nodded to himself, putting the glass down. "Yeah, but I mean, there's no trace of a family living here?" He asked her, gesturing to the photos of her parents wedding day on the mantle and none of her, alongside her tennis tournament trophies and her parents doctorates.
Isla shrugged to herself, "they like it like that." She explained, hopping up to sit on the island.
"Your parents?" Rafe asked.
She nodded, "yeah, I mean I think they only had a kid to please my great grandma." Isla laughed, her voice mixed with an undercurrent of loneliness.
"You two were close right?" He questioned, she looked at him surprised at how much information he had collected over all their years of knowing each other. "I always saw you with her on Sundays, wearing those little church outfits." He smirked.
"Yeah well, she always liked me best in them. I don't know, I feel like sometimes she raised me more than my mom did." Isla sipped the ice water, relieved to finally be sober.
"I always thought you looked like an angel like that." Rafe admitted, "you'd wear those bows in your hair with those fancy gloves, shiny white shoes and socks."
Isla looked at him, a part of her realising that over all these years, he had thought of her all along. That while she had been admiring him in his suits with his hair slicked back, he had been looking at her too. "But you always pulled on my ponytail." She pointed out.
"Hey, I was like eleven. Besides, you were always too busy with Sarah fussing over little Wheezie." He rolled his eyes at her, "mom use to tell me off for it too." He laughed to himself.
It was the only time she had seen him smile talking about his mom. "She was really pretty," Isla remembered, "she use to always wear a pearl necklace."
Rafe nodded, "yeah," he sighed, "she always said to be sweet to you. She'd go on and on about it whenever you came over for a playdate, she said when I was older I'd understand."
Isla frowned, "understand what?"
He stepped closer, looking down at his bracelet still on her, brushing the engraving with his thumb. "That we would end up together." His voice trailed off, laden with nostalgia.
"Do you think that?" She rested her hand on his arm as he stepped in between her thighs, "that this was, I don't know..." She left the sentence unfinished, the possibility floating through the air around them.
"Yeah," he brushed his thumb over her bare ring-finger, "I think so."
Isla readjusted herself, unable to forget all the pain he had caused her. "C'mon, I need to clean those." She nodded to the cut on his brow and the other on his cheekbone, trying to avoid crossing any other lines.
Seeing the disapointment and betrayal still tangled up in those water-blue eyes he stopped her, blocking her with his body. She refused to look at him.
"Baby," he whispered, "I'm sorry." The apology sounding foreign to her ears, "okay? I didn't kiss her Isla, I would never do that to you-"
She scoffed, looking over his shoulder, "how do you explain what I saw then, huh?"
"Isla, please, hear me out. Please?" He looked to her.
She just sighed and crossed her arms at him. Waiting.
"We were drinking all in a group, and then Emma came into the bathroom and locked the door. I tried to get out, but you know the boys they were on the other side and she just you know... It didn't mean anything to me Isla, if I could have I would have chased after you. In would have - but we were in front of everyone and..."
She cut him off, "you had all this time to tell me that, you know where I live. Why didn't you come and say that? Why wait?" She shook her head at his excuses.
"I tried to, but then I saw you in the garden with Dean. And it scared me to see you like that baby, I didn't realise that what I did to you would, I don't effect you like that and ... I just, a part of me thought it would be better to let you move on, that I couldn't put you through that much pain again." Rafe spoke sincerely, trying to get her to look at him.
Isla ran a hand through her hair, "you embarrassed me. I thought, I thought that maybe you'd been pretending with me. I mean, I'm not stupid - I've always known your reputation." She admitted.
Rafe shook his head at her quickly, cradling her face in his big hands, "you are the only one I never have to pretend with." She looked at him, seeing the truth in his eyes, "you are the only person who sees me. It scares me okay? It's fucking terrifying."
Isla looked down at her hands in her lap, as he remained searching for something in her eyes. For her forgiveness. "I can't pretend with you either." She admitted, "and it scares me too, I mean, look around." She said quietly, "I'm use to being alone."
Rafe pressed his lips to her forehead, wrapping his arms around her neck, "you don't have to be alone anymore. You have me, I have always been looking out for you baby."
She sniffled into his chest. "But you're going to leave me." Isla revealed her deepest fear. "You'll get bored of me."
Rafe chuckled, "I have known you for ten years and not for one second have I ever been able to be bored of you."
Isla bit her lip, pulling back as he brushed her hair back and behind her ear. "Promise?" She whisprered.
Rafe leant down, his lips connecting with hers gently. Her heart beat slowed, as she sighed into his embrace, finally feeling at peace from his touch. "I promise you. Til death, baby." He whispered against her lips.
The slight saltiness of his blood on her lips, she pulled back nodding. "Okay, I need to clean you up." She insisted.
Lifting her up, her legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. He held her to him, both of his hands on her ass. Giggling she rolled her eyes at him. "C'mon baby." Rafe smirked, walking her up the stairs and into the bathroom.
Setting her down, she looked through the cabinets for her first aid kit as Rafe sat down on the laundry bin. As she went about washing her hands, rubbing alcohol, saline and cutting up her strips of gauze and bandages, he watched her silently. Seeing how her hands were steady, her motions swift and exact.
He admired how concentrated she became, with a little purse in her lips and crinkle in between her brow as she focussed. He noticed how thoughtful she was to care for him, after everything she'd been through that night. Anger still raging in his blood when his mind tricked him back to seeing her underneath Cody on the sand, seeing her eyes roll back like that.
Taking a deep breathe he tried to quieten his mind and focus on her, how she gripped the sink ledge trying to remember any other steps.
"Hey, it's just a few cuts baby," he smirked, looking at her over-prepared arsenal on the bathroom counter.
Tutting she rolled her eyes at him in the mirrored reflection in front of her, turning she dabbed a piece of gauze with isopropyl alcohol, turning to him, she whispered, "you're hurt." She took his hands, rubbing gently around his cuts careful to avoid touching the open wounds.
"It's not my first fight." Rafe shrugged, reaching out to rest a hand, she just swatted at him to stay still.
She sighed, "that's the problem," going back to brushing his knuckles with saline.
"Hey," he looked down, meeting her eyes from under her brow, "I couldn't let them get away with that." He searched for her understanding, "if anything else had happened to you ... I mean, I just, those guys - what they did was fucked up. Roofying a girl is disgusting and we both know why they did it."
Isla looked away reaching for the bandage. Wrapping his hand up, she took his fist unclamping it, laying it flat on top of her palm. "Cody didn't roofy me, I saw every drank he gave me was in a beer or poured in front of me. Okay? I know it is fucked up Rafe, trust me I know that. But Cody, he didn't do this." She bit her lip, tying the bandage into a knot gently.
"Isla, come on!" Rafe pulled away, "stop defending him, why do you want to defend him?" He looked at her in disbelief.
"I'm not." She stepped back, dipping a piece of cotton wool in alcohol. "You think I'm happy about this?" Isla laughed incredulously, "fuck no, it's terrifying. But it wasn't Cody, I know it wasn't. He was really worried about me."
Rafe slammed his fist against the wall, wincing he breathed deeply. "I cannot believe you!" He scoffed, "you think he cares about you? Are you fucking blind? He hangs out with guys who roofy girls Isla!"
Isla just leant back against the sink, pinching her brow. "Rafe, I'm not going to hang out with them again, I'd have to be stupid to. But all I'm saying is, Cody didn't do this to me. Okay?"
She waited for him to let it go. "I swear to god Isla, if any of those fucking pogues ever come near you again, I will-"
"You'll do what?" She shook her head at him, "get into another fight? Then what? Rafe, baby I'm sorry you had to see me like that, but don't use me as an excuse for," she sighed, rolling her eyes to herself trying to choose her words wisely.
"No." Rafe interrupted, "no, I'm not going to let anything happen to you Isla, okay? You need to accept that, I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. Ever. You need to understand that, now. If anything or anyone ever makes you feel unsafe. I don't care if you think it's stupid. No matter how small or big a problem, you call me. I handle it. You don't call anyone else, okay? Don't even call the police first. You call me. And how I handle it, you need to accept." He stated.
She looked at him exasperated, going back to him, she held his chin in her hand as she bought the alcohol to his cheek. Delicately washing away the dried blood. "Rafe, you're asking me to justify violence. How can I do that?" She whispered.
He wrapped his arms around her waist. "Because you are all that matters to me," his eyes soft as he pressed his thumb to her pulse, "and when you're with me nothing's going to hurt you, baby." As he pulled her down to kiss him by her neck.
She hesitated. "Don't you think you're being overreactive?" She raised an eyebrow.
Rafe rolled his eyes at her, leaning in, "I'm being protective." He smirked, watching those goosebumps travel down her arms, he trailed the back of his hand against her thigh. He took index and middle finger brushing her legs open, travelling to her inner thigh. He heard her inhale sharply. How could she be so sensitive to his touch?
Looking in his eyes, a small smirk emerging upon her face. Surprising him, she let her hand wrap around his neck, as she sat down to straddle him. His hands immediately grabbing onto her lower waist to support her, lowering her down slowly on top of him. Her chest brushing past his face as he inhaled deeply, her hands dragging from his shoulders over his arms. Grinning.
His hands went to her neck, brushing her hair back. Arching her back against him, he watched her chest rise and fall in anticipation of his pleasure. He dipped his head, his lips were hot as he placed them against her breasts, barely kissing her.
"Tell me you're mine." His voice so low and rough it she felt herself throb.
Torturing her, teasing her. With his thumb beside her ear, he curled the hair at the nape of her neck gently. Hearing how softly she moaned from him, making him smirk against her skin.
Until her hips rocked against him, "say it," he insisted, his hands gripping her by her ass to him firmly, stopping her movement. The imprint of him pressing into her, drawing back she bit her lip and began untying the bow at the top of her shirts buttons, she leant back with her hands on his knees.
Looking at her, her body completely his to his every touch. He succumbed to her, trailing a hand over her taught stomach, over her shirt as he planted greedy kisses up her body. Finally, his instincts took over.
His hands clamped around her wrists as he lifted her arms up. His hands running up her ribcage, ripping that stupid shirt off. Her bra was white lace. "Say it." He coaxed.
She didn't need to say it aloud for them to both know it was already true. Isla had always been his, since she first met him. There was nobody else for her, and she wasn't sure there ever could be now.
"I'm yours Rafe," she whispered sweetly, "only yours."
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