SACRIFICE // currently editing!

three, survivor's guilt

CHAPTER THREE ━━ SURVIVOR'S GUILT
Sacrifice!          0103

( TRIGGER         WARNING ):
knife-play / carving into skin!

    

JULES DIDN'T END UP TELLING anyone about her and Rafe. She wanted to keep them a secret for as long as possible. But unfortunately, the moment she saw it, Sarah questioned the necklace secured around Jules's neck. What the hell was she supposed to say? "Hey, I'm dating your brother. Hope you're cool with it"? No, she couldn't do that; it would result in a conflict she would not be able to steer away from.

So she lied.

"It's for Riley," she had said.

Sarah had shut up in an instant. As soon as the name slipped Jules's lips, her friend apologized and proceeded with what she had been doing.

As for Rafe, his overall aura was different and his friends definitely took that into account. He revealed nothing but they grinned in his direction regardless, fighting back fist bumps and clapping each other on the back.

Jules ended up hanging with the Pogues instead of Rafe, much to his disappointment. She knew her friends had all noticed her new necklace, but no one dared to say anything. They all probably collectively thought it was meant for Riley, despite knowing remotely nothing about him. And she was going to keep it that way.

Today, they were at the beach. The boys and Kie were all hitting the waves while Jules and Sarah sat on the towels in the warm sand. Jules could feel Sarah's beautiful brown eyes boring into the side of her head as she was reading a book. Sarah has been staring for several minutes now, and Jules'd finally had enough.

"What?" she snapped, looking up from her book.

Sarah didn't recoil or flinch. "The necklace isn't for Riley, is it?" she asked softly.

Jules bit her lip, shaking her head after a few moments.

"Is it who I think?" Sarah's tone was icy. But Jules still nodded in reply. "Damn it, Jules! What's so hard to understand about staying away from him? He's gonna end up hurting you."

"You don't know that," Jules murmured, staring out at the ocean. "He's . . . He's different with me."

"I find that really hard to believe."

"Well, you've seen how he acts around me," she went on. "You've seen how touchy he gets, how he always listens to me talk no matter what. He's chosen me countless times over his own friends."

Sarah shook her head slightly in disbelief. "I'm not sure it's a good idea, though," she told Jules. "You know what he's capable of."

She did. Her mind immediately went back to one time in 10th grade in a class she shared with Rafe, who had been a senior at the time. That day, there was a boy getting too close for comfort and too in-her-face with her during English, and Rafe called him out before getting sent to the principal's office for bashing the kid's skull into a desk. She didn't get to see him for a week.

"Yeah, I know," she mumbled.

"Just take my word for it, Jules. He's bad news and knows it. But he doesn't care. Just please be careful."

"I will."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Now . . . are you gonna tell me how he asked you, or is that up to the imagination?" Sarah questioned.

Jules smiled small. "Nope, not telling," she said.

"Okay, up to the imagination it is." Sarah paused. "I can't believe Midsummers is in like, four months. Do you think Rafe will take you?"

"Uh . . . I'm not sure. I wanted to keep it to ourselves for awhile but he wants it to be known I'm his."

"Ew."

Jules rolled her eyes. "You're insufferable, Sarah Cameron."

"And you're lacking taste, Jules Carson."

"Are we gonna go to Midsummers together?"

Jules's question obviously caught Rafe off-guard. He rolled over onto his side to face her, instead of lying on his back. Sarah's question had been eating away at her for several days now, and she had finally found the courage to ask Rafe about it.

"Do you want to go?" he queried as he lazily trailed his hand up her side until it halted at her jaw.

"I think it'd be nice, y'know. Look, my parents are gonna be going anyways, so are yours. So why not?"

Rafe absentmindedly traced her skin with his finger as he pondered her words. Of course, he wanted to take her to Midsummers and show her off. But he also didn't want anyone ogling at her if he couldn't do anything about it. So there was definitely a complication or two.

"I don't know if I'd be able to stop people from fucking you with their eyes, though," he said bluntly.

"Really, Rafe?"

"What?"

"You're so possessive, you know that?"

He shrugged. "What can I say? I protect what's mine."

"Yeah, like anyone would be able to forget," Jules mocked him with a grin. "What are you gonna do next — carve your initials into my thigh or something?"

One of his eyebrows rose at the idea. Jules immediately began shutting it down, trying desperately to rid his brain of that thought. But he wasn't having it. He sat up and reached into the girl's bedside table for her pocket knife. She cursed at herself for showing him where it was — and for even suggesting it.

Rafe moved on top of her, his legs on either side of her hips. He lazily dragged the sharp blade down her tank top until it reached the waistband of her shorts. His eyes flicked up to her own.

"I'll let you put yours on me," he told her.

Jules bit her lip, hard enough until she tasted the sharp tang of iron. But she finally gave in. She nodded once, and Rafe didn't waste time on moving the blade to her right thigh. His fingers grazed over the old scars that littered her skin, but he moved to her left thigh that was free of the pale pink lines.

The tip of the blade gingerly poked at her skin. She jolted slightly under Rafe's weight, but didn't protest as he placed his opposite hand on her collarbone as she awaited for him to begin cutting her skin. When he finally did, he did it nice and slow, wanting to get the R and C just right. And he did. He was very proud of himself as he reached for a tissue to clean up the pooling blood.

"We'll put a bandaid on that, don't worry," he told her softly.

Jules nodded, hesitantly taking the knife from him as she sat up. He hiked up his shorts to reveal his toned thighs, clean of any scarring or abrasions. She swallowed thickly before pressing the blade into his skin. She meticulously wrote out her initials. Nausea washed over her as Rafe grabbed another tissue to clean up the blood.

She hadn't even realized she was shaking and near crying until Rafe had her pressed into his chest, his arms wrapped around her.

"Hey. You're okay," he whispered. "Whenever you look at that, you'll know you're more important to me than anyone else in my life. From now on, I'm always gonna be with you. And those other scars are proof of survival, right? You're a survivor, angel."

ALEX IS RIOTING . . . the initials are VERY important!! it's not weird i swear. they're a particular plot point okok thank you have a good day <3

( i love them so much holy shit )