When He Leaves - R. Cameron

17 𝑤𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑑𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑤𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛'𝑡 𝑠𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔

𝑤𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑑𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟
𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠
𝑤𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛'𝑡 𝑠𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔

summer of '19

Rafe was leaving today. In eight hours. At 8 o'clock. It was midnight, and she was folding his clothes so that they actually fit into the suitcases he had. He was in the bathroom, and he had been in there for awhile now. She could hear the shower running through the crack in door where he had not shut it all the way. Steam was beginning to creep out, her eyes were transferring from the task she was doing and there every few seconds.

Rory placed the last two shirts on the left of the suitcase, on the opposite side of his underwear and socks. She had put all the pants and shorts into the other smaller suitcase, packed tight. She smiled at the memory of him getting her to sit on it while he zipped it. He had been in a good mood all day, which had unnerved her because she wasn't so happy about the situation. But she considered the idea of leaving her dad behind, and she realized she would be happy all the same.

It wasn't only that though— she had anticipated something from him all day. He was always touching her, his hand on her leg, the subtle brushes of skin to skin when passing by where room was abundant, the eye contact, his lips too close to her ear when was talking to her side by side. He had even grabbed her hand in the truck today, sliding his long fingers through her the entire ride to his house. But he had acted like it had not affected him while her heart had been in her throat all day.

She looked up from zipping the suitcase when she heard the door open, realizing she had been so deep in her thoughts that she did not hear the water shut off. "Thank you." He smiled, a real one with dimples. She nodded at him, her eyes drifting briefly to the hand that was securing the white towel around his waist. There had not been many times that she had witnessed him like this, but when she had, it done all kinds of things to her. Inside and out.

He turned his back to her to look in his dresser, and she watched a drop of water roll down his spine. His back muscles clenched and she looked away, closing her eyes. "I think you packed all my underwear, Rory." He said aloud and walked over to her where she was still hovering over the suitcase. His arm slid against hers and he leaned forward to unzip it. She looked up at him when he grabbed a pair, his eyes already on her.

"Sorry. I wasn't thinking." She mumbled.

He winked at her with a shrug. "That's what I would say to." Did he just—

Rory blinked at his back as he walked away, returning to the bathroom. Maybe that's what he had been doing all day— flirting. He seemed to do it a lot, but this was another level. It was their last kiss, it had to be. She sighed and zipped his suitcase again and moved it beside the other things he was taking before sitting down on his bed.

"I'm going to take this stuff out to Dad's truck. I'll be right back." He said when he came back, only in a pair of shorts. "Do you want anything to eat while I'm downstairs?" He pulled a sweatshirt over his head and put on a pair of shoes while waiting for a response.

"I'll just come with you and decide then." She said and got up, grabbing the small suitcase to help him out. Rafe shot her a disapproving look but decided against saying anything, instead walking out the door with the big suitcase and a box. She followed him downstairs quietly, still intimidated by her father and doing everything in her will to not have to interact with him. Ward seemed not to like her anyway.

They went through the front door and out to the paved driveway where Ward's truck sat. "Are you not taking your truck there?" She asked him.