THE PICTURE OF YOU -rafe cameron-

053; fifteen

Fifteen

Rafe should've known that. If he had stopped to think he would've figured it out himself seeing as he knew enough to do so. Rafe knew Myra to be JJ Maybank's little sister hence making her at least a year younger than him. Having kids close in ages are a common thing around the outer banks too. Rafe also knew that JJ was born the same year as his own little sister Sarah, hence making the pouge boy sixteen. That would make Myra fifteen at the oldest. Fifteen. A number he hadn't thought about before. He should have, but he simply hadn't. It had slipped his messed up mind. He had been too swept away with the intoxicating feeling she brought to him. He had been too preoccupied with her infectious laugh, sparkling blue eyed and incredible wit. He had been too caught up in her.

Panic settled within Rafe. He could feel it quickly building up. His heart was beating heavy in such a uncomfortable way, not like how he had felt just moments before as he had been kissing her. The euphoria was gone, completely washed away within minutes. There was a faint ringing in his ears and his skin began to itch. He swallowed harshly, desperately trying to make the lump in the back of his throat go away. It stayed, nevertheless. Oh no, he thought to himself. Oh no, this isn't good. This made the age gap between the two of them evident. Four whole years. It made a already bad thing even worse. Rafe couldn't believe that he had gotten himself caught up in this.

"Fifteen..." the tall boy mumbled lowly, staring blankly ahead, "you're fifteen years old?". Myra nodded her head swiftly, standing still and motionless in her path. She had her hands clasped together in front of her body almost as to shield herself. She was beginning to understand the issue, seeing how Rafe's chest was now heaving heavily. "Oh fuck" he muttered to himself, looking away, hoping that she wouldn't have heard him but she did. "Yeah I'm fifteen, so what?" Myra asked, taking a step forward. She was direct, yet cautious. "So what?" Rafe blurted out, snapping his head to look at the small pouge girl, "so what? Are you serious? You're fifteen years old, fifteen Pea-, uhm, Myra"

"Yeah and so what?" Myra kept on pushing, her wandering gaze scanning Rafe's face. He had his jaw clenched once more and a darker tone hinting within his Atlantic blue eyes. "You're fifteen and I'm..." Rafe trailed, letting go of a breath he had been holding in. "You're what?" Myra asked, blinking her eyes. "I'm nineteen" Rafe breathed, his lips now parted. For a second he looked kind of defeated Myra thought, like all the air had left his lungs and he was ready to give up. "So I'm fifteen and you're nineteen" Myra hummed gently as she shrugged her shoulders, "so what?"

Rafe stood still for a second more before he moved, turning around. He couldn't face her. Myra furrowed her brows, feeling shut off from him. Rafe muttered something inaudible as he began to pace back and forth amongst the trees. He lifted his right hand, pressing his thumb and index finger to the bridge of his nose. Myra saw Rafe close his eyes, still pacing. She remained still and quiet. Her last question was left unanswered, hanging in the late evening air.

"I have to go" Rafe suddenly spoke. He abruptly stopped his pacing, now staring at Myra. She took a step back, seeing something dark surrounding him. Myra parted her lips as to speak, but no words slipped past. She wasn't sure what to say. Rafe hadn't exactly answered her last question so she wasn't sure what he thought. What Myra was sure of what that Rafe's voice rang direct and determined and that if he had made his mind up to leave, then Myra didn't want to stay either. "We don't have to hang around this place" Myra mumbled, her blue eyes scanning over Rafe. "No" he spoke, shaking his head vigorously, "I have to go... home, I'm going home, but you can stay and have a good time"

Myra sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well if you're going home then I am too" she argued. Rafe pushed his lips together, gazing away for a split second. "Let me walk you home" he then added, his gaze wandering back to the girl that stood before him. "No it's fine" Myra muttered, letting her arms fall to her sides as she began to move, walking past Rafe. "Myra, hey come on" Rafe urged, following after her. He reached out to grab her arm, his touch sending shivers along her exposed skin. "No" Myra snapped, pulling her arm away from Rafe's grasp, "no Rafe, if you're leaving then go ahead, I don't need you to walk me home, I can fend for myself... I'd rather have you just go"