asylum [rafe cameron]

twenty-eight

We lay on Rafe's bed, the back of his head fit between my thighs whilst he was smoking, and I played with his hair.

By the amount of joints he's had, I could tell he was high.

"It's midsummers in two days, right?" I ask him.

"Don't remind me." he groaned.

"What, you don't like it?" I laughed.

I've always wanted to go to midsummers as a child. But since I was a pogue, I was restricted to.

My dad tried to sneak me in once, that was probably the only good memory I have of my childhood with him.

"Yeah, but I have to go for my dad." he says.

"That sucks."

"Are you going?" he asks.

"I have to work there instead."

"By yourself?"

"No, with JJ and I think Pope too."

"JJ?" he turns around to face me.

I nod.

"So he's your date?" his eyebrows furrow.

"We're not allowed to have dates, we're working." I laugh.

"Okay." he says, turning back around to not face me.

What was his problem?

"Wait- you're not jealous are you?" I laugh, scooting across the bed to face him.

"No." he doesn't look at me.

I roll my eyes. He was jealous.

I wanted to go with him. But it would never work. We promised to keep this a secret.

And pogues were not allowed anyways, even as a plus one, I think.

"Are you tired?" I change the subject, laying back to my original place on the bed.

"Very." he replies.

He works his way up to my level of the bed, holding his arm around my waist.

"Lets go sleep, alright?" he murmurs into my neck, giving it a brief kiss.

"Mhm." I nod, my body relaxing at the feeling of his next to mine.

~

I wake up, the next day to feel Rafe's hand on my waist. I turn around to see his face, smiling at him and giving him a peck on the cheek.

"Hey." he mumbles with his eyes still closed.

I didn't mean to wake him up.

"Oh- sorry." I whisper.

"It's fine." he chuckles.

He opens his eyes, his hand cups my jawline as he pecks my cheek like I did to him. I couldn't help but smile.

"It's uh- Topper's birthday today." Rafe murmurs.

Me and Topper never really got along. We could occasionally talk, but most of the time it would probably end in an argument.

"Well, tell him I said happy birthday." I say unenthusiastically.

"Look, I know you don't like him, but you gotta help me pick out his cake."