EIGHTEEN

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EIGHTEEN

Forever, Everyday. 

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Ophelia Martin never meant to feel, especially when it came to her best friend's brother.

The dark haired beauty awoke the next morning with an excruciating headache, waking from her deep slumber only to realize her tanned legs were tangled amongst the cotton bed sheets, and a brute force was holding her down by the waist, her back pressed up firmly against the softness of the mattress.

It was then she let out a sigh, her chapped lips begging for attention.

Beside the girl was Rafe, a deep sleep taking over his unconscious figure as his dress shirt remained on his torso, buttons undone as the light coloured fabric hung loosely over a pair of dark blue boxers, the girls lips parting every so slightly at the sight beside her.

Ophelia managed to sneak in a drink of two before the events unfolded, though everything had seemed to be a blur. She could vaguely remember Sarah running off after meeting with JJ Maybank, the same blonde who was about to be beaten to a pulp until Ophelia made her self present.

She had remembered arguing with Rafe, and it was then goosebumps ran over her soft skin, the night air she was engulfed in the night prior taking over her warm state.

She remembered every word Rafe had spoken, how soft and gentle his words were, to how passionately he kissed her when she finally caved.

The pair's lips hadn't seemed to be apart from one another for any longer then seconds, either Rafe or Ophelia re attaching them, in fear that they would never get enough.

Both lips, tender and swollen, neither had seemed to care as Rafe effortlessly dragged the girl through the buzzing party, his tongue down her throat the entirety of the time, not caring who was around, bringing her back to the Cameron household where they continued on their endeavours.

Ophelia barely slept, though still found herself squinting at the light peaking through the dark coloured blinds, carefully removing the boys arm from around her waist, slipping out of the boys room in nothing but a pair of neon pink underwear and a worn out get oversized tee belonging to Rafe, hanging mid thigh on the girl's tanned legs.

She hadn't expected anyone to be awake, let alone home for that matter, until she heard the quiet voice belonging to Sarah, her bare feet patting lightly amongst the dark coloured floor as she followed the sound.

Holding onto her head, a mess upon the top held loosely in a white scrunchie, she jumped at the sound of Ward Cameron's voice, the girl halting to a stop as she remained where she was, only hoping she hadn't been seen.

𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐋 ❪ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍 ❫Where stories live. Discover now