Chapter 28: Forbidden Thoughts

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After a victory dance and a lot of unintelligible shouting when John B had revealed that he had, in fact, discovered the gold, Delilah knew she had to get home before anyone noticed she was missing. 

She shook her head in disbelief, realizing that they had made an incredible discovery for the history of the Outer Banks. That, and that they were going to be rich. 

The thought didn't thrill her as much as it should. She had it easy, compared to JJ, Pope and John B, and knew she couldn't complain. 

If it were her decision, she would have given away the gold to a museum, and only taken the money that would have been given to her as thanks. But she would never take away the boys' opportunity to do whatever they wanted with their lives. 

With an annoyed growl, her tired muscles crying out in protest, she climbed the tree near the mansion in order to jump onto her balcony, landing in a crouch she had practiced more than once on her nightly excursions. She shook the dust out of her hair, wondering if she should take a shower before going to bed.

"Where were you?" said a person, sitting on her couch.

She jumped into a fighting stance, startled.

"Rafe?" She exhaled a sigh of relief, her heart beating quickly. "You scared me."

"Where were you?" he asked again, his expression firm.

She pressed her lips together, not enjoying the tone he was using. "Out."

"You met with Pogues, didn't you?"

"Would you stop calling them that with such disgust in your voice!" she exclaimed, exasperated.

"They're trouble," he protested, getting up and stepping closer to her. "Do you know how worried I was?"

She shook her head. "I can take care of myself, you know that."

"But what if something happens?" He ran his hands through his hair, the true worry in his eyes making the words die in her throat. "What if they can't protect you? They can't even bother to keep a proper job, why would they bother taking care of someone that has everything better than them?"

"Rafe," she calmly said. "Listen to me. You have to stop treating them like an entirely different species. They are people, teenagers just like us. With your current mindset, it'll be very difficult to help you."

He opened his mouth as if to protest but only sighed, giving up. "It's hard to get rid of a mindset that has been drilled into your head since a young age."

Delilah didn't reply, growing tired of the conversation, which didn't seem to be going anywhere. 

"We should sleep," she finally said. "It's late."

"Or early, if we think about it."

The smile he gave her made her smile back. Through the smile, she saw her childhood, the memories of them together as they laughed and played. And the memory alone made her realize that she could never give up on him. 

For the first time, she was unsure if it was a good or bad thing.

"I have to go get a few things from home tomorrow," said Rafe, settling down on her couch for the night. "Would... would you mind coming with me?"

She paused on her way to the bathroom, her expression softening. "I'll be there."

Rafe read the hesitation on her face. "What is it?"

Delilah took a deep breath. "Ray... I want you to see a psychologist."

His back stiffened as he sat up straighter.

"Hear me out," she hurriedly said. "Not any psychologist. My uncle. You know each other and he loves you like a son. He can help you in ways that I would never be able to."

"I'll think about it."

"Tomorrow morning, we'll talk to him, ok?" she insisted.

He bit his lips, but nodded. 

She gently ran her hand through his soft hair, as if the movement could soothe him enough for sleep to take him away. Rafe closed his eyes, a small sigh of contentment escaping his lips.

"Sleep," she told him, shoving him back against the couch. "I'm going to take a shower."

As soon as the door closed behind her, her mind went to an entirely different subject. 

Everytime her eyes closed, just the split second she allowed herself to blink, Pope's face appeared, with the expression he had worn in the van. 

She could relive every second of it, how the emotion had flooded his face, how he had looked at her as if she was the only person in the world. 

It was overwhelming. How he had simply.... Accepted it. 

It was against everything she had ever taught herself to do. She forced herself to push down any emotion that threatened to rise, they would only bring her trouble. Pope didn't seem to have that issue. 

She shook her head as if it could banish any stupid ideas from her mind. She was getting ahead of herself. For all she knew, she could have invented the way Pope had looked at her. 

Perhaps it was only wishful thinking. 

Delilah groaned, burying her face in her hands. No. No, it wasn't wishful thinking, because wishful thinking would imply something she wouldn't even let herself think about. 

She stripped from her clothes, turning the water to its coldest, hoping it would distract her enough to banish the image dancing beneath her eyelids. 





A/N Hello, folks! So, I know this chapter wasn't super interesting but I hope you guys liked it anyways. I don't know about you people, but I sympathise with Delilah during the internal struggles. Emotions... gross. 

Thanks for reading and happy new year! 

-Aella


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