Disarm / Rafe Cameron

07. I Want You

I Want You
chapter vii
warnings: sexual scenes, talks
of domestic abuse, eating
disorders, & self harm

LAYNE DIDN'T KNOW HOW long she was asleep for, until she woke up. Her head was very heavy, as though it was full of water, and she couldn't lift it off the pillow. There was overwhelming sense of guilt and sorrow that came over her, that had been overly synonymous with Layne's summer so far. A constant wave of the same sickly emotions that, apparently, only Rafe was able to remedy. It was ill how much she depended on him to make her feel better. Nothing else mattered when it came to him—not even her family. Especially not her friends. Her life surrounded around him, yet Layne preferred it that way.

Layne walked to the mirror in her room and stared at the bruise on her neck. It was still red, and she ghosted her fingers over the sensitive skin. Her lip quivered, and Layne bit her sleeve to mute her cries. It wasn't the violence that scared her—it was the fact that she would let him do anything to her, and she'd still love him. Slipping on a sweater that covered her neck, she tried to quell the puffiness of her eyes with cold water.

She must have slept very far into the day, because when she emerged from her bedroom, Rory looked at her as though she was a ghost. "I was started to get worried about you." Dropping what she was doing, Rory rushed over to Layne and gave her a kiss on her lips. Layne looked around and didn't see any sign of her father. It wasn't a new thing—oftentimes he spent his time at the shop, especially in the summer. Layne felt bad that she didn't offer to provide them more help, but they were adamant on her getting another, different job. Something about "making sure she isn't reliant on them for her whole life." It made sense but Layne didn't want to think about her whole life and only wanted to think of the now.

"Late night." Layne muttered, wrapping her sweater closed over her shoulders. "Is it cold in here or is it just me? Can we turn up the thermostat?" she asked, inching over to where it was on the wall. Rory scrunched her eyebrows together and shook her head. "Honey, it's almost ninety out. We're keeping the AC on."

"But I'm fucking freezing."

"Language," Rory scolded, while wiping down dishes. "I'm not surprised you're cold. You're as light as a feather."

Layne's heart dropped to her shoes and she winced. Sometimes she believed her mother liked to point out her weight just to aggravate her. "I am not. You and dad just like it below zero in here." she turned up the thermostat to sixty-five. Rory stared at her from the kitchen. "Aren't you supposed to be at the shop?" Layne asked, maneuvering over to the couch and putting her feet up on the coffee table, flipping the channels on the television. Rory sighed as though Layne had asked her that a million times when she did not.

"I wanted to stay home with you. Make sure you're okay. You seemed off last night."

Layne kept staring at the television and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm fine." There was a beat of silence and Layne decided to change the subject. "I was thinking of going surfing, or just going to the beach, if you wanted to come." Rory seemed to light up at the notion—which, ironically, made Layne even more sad. She couldn't recall the last time she had a beach day with her mother in the past few years. Perhaps she could actually be the proper daughter they were trying so hard to raise her to be, and not some disconsolate zombie who only left the house to see her boyfriend. No—not her boyfriend. Rafe wasn't her boyfriend. Boyfriends didn't act the way he did.

"I would love that. Why don't you eat something and then we can leave."

Layne turned her head to give Rory a tight-lipped smile, and her mother put some waffles in the toaster. The thought of eating made her sick to her stomach but she put up with it to make her mom feel better. "Do you need a new wet suit?" her mom asked, and Layne nibbled at the food that was on her plate. Small bites with long chewing satisfied her hunger faster. "Uh—yeah, actually. Mines too big." she whispered, almost as though she was ashamed to say it. Rory went silent and it was so obviously a sting to what she had said earlier.