When He Leaves - R. Cameron

16 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑚 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠, 𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒

𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑚 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠,
𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒

summer of '19

Rory stared up at the sky, resting back on her arms. Rafe had drove them to a part of the beach where there were no houses for miles. It was just sand, palm trees, and water. It stretched on forever, and the moon reflected off the water, brightening up everything around them just like the sun would. At the moment, he was searching through the cab of his truck to find her something to use as a blanket.

She was sitting in the bed of his truck, and even though it was night, the air was kind of humid. She did not have the heart to tell him she was fine now though, considering he had been at the search for a few minutes. "Here. I found one of my hoodies." There was the sound of the truck door slamming shut followed with his footsteps, finally coming around the side. He threw it in her lap and leaned against the side of the truck, near the back beside her. "I'll miss it here."

That made her eyes go to him— she slipped it over her head and smoothed her hair out of her face so that she could look him in the eyes. "Why can't you come back?" She asked, propping her arms up on the side of the truck, resting her head in her folded arms. If he moved any closer, they would be at eye level. "It's not that far away."

Rafe backed away from her and shook his head. "It is when I'm hours away at college." He sounded distant and cold, his jaw tight as a spring. It made her upset too though, thinking of how things would be when he wasn't here. He had became her best friend, even more than that it seemed some times. "When are you leaving?" She whispered, her mouth tight at the corners. She was finding it difficult to hide the emotions passing over her face.

He smiled at her, although it was forced. "Soon. Let's not talk about that right now, though. It's fucking with my head." He cleared his throat after that and pulled something out of his pocket, and then she saw the spark of a lighter. She frowned at the cigarette dangling from between his lips, the end burning bright orange when he inhaled it— he had never smoked in front of her. Let alone drink. Unless they were at parties, but if he was with her, he never even thought about doing it.

"Yeah, it must be." She muttered and rested her cheek on her arm so that she could look at him. He was watching her, the cloud of smoke around her face, as his eyes went from her and the shine in her eyes. He could feel his chest aching and placed his hand over it, rubbing it a few times. He exhaled again, moving to the back of the truck to sit beside her. Her nose was burning from the strong smell of smoke.

Rory leaned over to him, reaching out cautiously and grabbed the cigarette with her thumb and index finger. His eyes went wide when he thought she was going to smoke it, but instead she tossed it to the sand. "I hate the smell of smoke. And beer. Even worse is when the smells are mixed together. It reminds me of my dad." She muttered and stared at him, her eyes hard and glazed over. He looked down at the cigarette, smothered in the sand, and ran his tongue over his lips.

"I sure as hell am not your dad." He said, his voice deep with conviction. There eyes never left each other, their exhaled breaths mingling between them.  She swallowed and blinked, her eyes falling down to his hand that was now resting on her knee. "Come here." He said slowly and grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet. She watched him with a raised eyebrow.

Rafe pulled her until she was in front of him, her bare toes digging into the sand under them. He wrapped one arm around her waist and pressed her close to him, while the other hand tangled with the other and held it. "What are we doing?" She whispered, careful not to ruin whatever was happening. He reached for her other hand and placed it on his shoulder, resuming the position. "Dancing." He murmured after that, beginning to sway with her.