𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 is your average do-good lawyer on the rise to fame as a representative of young victims. Except her motivations aren't all that innocent. Rayne's only goal is to run from her past, to leave confrontation for the courtroom, no...
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𝗥ueben pulled open the door of Rayne's dark black Audi and stepped out onto the dirt path that was his driveway. The sun was fading, but bright, and the evening was beautiful. In the distance, the blue waves of the ocean slapped against the sandy shore; he felt the urge to visit and relax in his version of a backyard soon. He knew his parameters reached up to the shore – the partial freedom was something he ought to take more advantage of.
He shut the door behind him and began making his way towards his front door. Isaac, Taryn, and Blake's car sat parked in front of him, but Mason's was nowhere to be seen. He frowned momentarily; he was going to ask if they wanted to do something together. Ever since getting this ankle monitor, his life has been dreadfully boring.
"Hey wait!" Rayne's voice called from behind him.
Rueben turned fast, and caused her to basically crash into him.
When she recovered, her face was red, as well as his. The minor feeling of her small frame against his own, was nice. It was an unexpected, yet expected feeling.
"Hold on," she demanded, holding up a finger before opening the passenger's back door and ducking into the car. He watched silently, bouncing on his heels as he did as she told.
A minute later, she emerged from the car and turned; there was a small box in her hand.
"Here," she spoke as he cocked his head in curiosity.
Rueben didn't protest, and took it without arguing. The object was small, and fit into one of his palms. It was red, and made of paper; the top was a clear covering which allowed him to peer inside. Upon doing so, he saw the sloppy, melted letters reading 'Sorry', to which he smiled widely.
"What is this for exactly?" he pretended to investigate it more.
"An apology. And a cupcake," she rubbed her hands anxiously, "—an apology cupcake."
Rueben looked up and noticed that faint pink was still very apparent in her cheeks. It paired beautifully with the setting around them. With the sun lingering over the horizon, it made Rayne glow more than she normally did. Her auburn hair danced around her face, making her sharp jawline, soft – button nose and effortlessly smooth lips look desirable. Oh, I wish I could kiss them.
And even with that faint squint of her eyes, he could clearly see the golden, caramel color glittering in his direction. The way she looked at him was remarkable, unmatched. It was like she was actually seeing him. Not the Mafia. Not Emmet. Not a trial.
She just saw me.
"For what—?" he began, but was cut off quickly.
The feeling of her petite arm wrapping around his waist shocked him. He raised his hands up, not touching her body as she pressed her own tightly to his. Her cheek rested on his chest, and he felt flushed as his heartrate increase; he worried she might pick up on it.
