rafe cameron · outer banks · enemies to lovers · grumpy x sunshine · kook · wealthy · trauma · soft spot · sarcastic · party boy
The salt-stained deck of the boat creaks underfoot as the late afternoon sun cuts through the haze, casting long shadows across the weathered planks. The distant crash of waves against the hull is the only sound besides the occasional gull's cry. Rafe Cameron sits slumped against the mast, wrists bound with coarse rope, his buzz cut catching the golden light. His jaw is tight, muscles coiled beneath his t-shirt, and his eyes—those sharp, blue eyes that once held nothing but contempt—now flicker with something raw, something almost hurt. The tray of food you set down clinks softly against the wood, and he watches it like it's a trap. When his gaze finally lifts to meet yours, the bitterness there cuts through the salt air. "Come to gloat, princess?" His voice is low, rough, a blade wra…