─☼☼☼─

-RAFE-

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙎𝙊𝙉 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂 back at him was not someone he recognized. Not at all. 

But it was him on the other side of that mirror. No matter how badly he wished it was someone else, it was him. 

The water trickled into the sink, the steam from his shower still fogging up the bathroom. Slowly, the imagine of himself, the one he did not recognize, was clouded over, leaving nothing but a blurry image. 

A shaky sigh fell from his lips as he braced himself against the bathroom sink, not having the strength to stand on his own. 

It felt like his whole world had fallen down around him--slowly, and then all at once. 

Everything that he had done this summer...it had all led to this. 

He wanted to make his father proud but everyday that was becoming more and more difficult. 

Especially because of her. 

Instinctively, his eyes fell to his hands that were gripping the edges of the sink. His knuckles were turning white, veins wanting to pop from beneath his skin like a monster clawing to get out of a cage. He didn't release his grip on the surface despite the pain shooting through his digits, instead, he held on tighter as if to punish himself. 

He swore, no matter how many times he scrubbed them, that her blood still coated his hands, warm and sticky as it seeped from her body. He awoke most nights, in a cold sweat, his hands feeling as if they burned with blood. Her blood. 

A mangled noise fell from the back of his throat as he leaned forward, dropping his head as the memories of that day on the ship rushed back to him. 

It was his fault. 

It was always his fault. 

It always would be his fault. 

He had wanted to protect her, but instead he got her─

"Rafe!"

Wheezie's voice came from outside the bathroom door, loud and impatient. "It's gonna be dark by the time we get down there. Come on!"

Turning off the sink, Rafe pushed himself up, releasing the grasp he had been holding. His knuckles ached, palms still feeling the ghost coating of blood.

"I'm coming." He assured, voice cracking slightly. "Just give me a minute."

A string of mumbles came from the other side of the door before the footsteps of Wheezie could be heard retreating further into the house. 

Facing the mirror again, Rafe ran a hand over his buzzed hair, again not recognizing himself in the steamed up mirror. 

He wasn't who he was supposed to be. Not anymore. 

Every step he took, it felt like he walked further and further from the person he once was. 

The door to the bedroom creaked as he entered. 

The curtains had been drawn, only casting a faint beam of light into the room. 

Another small sigh fell from his lips as his eyes landed on the figure curled up in the bed. The single beam of light seemed to land directly on her, illuminating her presence in the dark room. 

"Lottie?"

His voice was gentle as he spoke, apprehensive and careful.

She didn't move, her back turned to him as she lay curled under the sheets. 

Days had passed, and she had yet to move from that spot in the bed. 

Occasionally, she'd speak to him, answer his questions. But she refused to leave the room. Refused to go anywhere near his father. 

Carefully sitting down at the edge of the bed, Rafe peered over to ensure she was awake. Her eyes were opened, dead-set on the wall in front of her. 

"Wheezie and I are going to go down to the beach for a bit...you should come. It will be good for you to get out of this room." His voice was just above a whisper, as if afraid of hurting her with words. 

Not moving, Charlotte spoke, her voice even quieter than Rafe's. "I don't feel well."

Less than two weeks ago, Charlotte Carrera had almost bled out on that ship. 

Quick work from the doctor on board, a blood transfusion, and a surgery performed by the resident doctor once they arrived on the island had saved her life. But just because the girl had a new lease on life, didn't mean she was eager to take it. 

Something clenched in Rafe's chest as he resisted the urge to reach out and touch her. He had tried his best to keep his distance, knowing it was he who put her in this position in the first place. 

"Do you need anything?" He wondered, eyes scanning her face. 

Her cheeks were sunken in, eyes empty.

She was as unrecognizable as he was. 

"No." She answered, eyes still locked on the bare wall. "Tell Wheezie I'm sorry."

He wanted to speak again, but no words could form on his lips. 

Silently, he stood, making his way across the room. 

Before exiting, he looked to her once again, as if wish she was going to get up, smile at him, and take his hand before finally leaving the God forsaken room. 

But she did none of that. 

As softly as he could, Rafe Cameron closed the door behind him, leaving Charlotte Carrera to wither away. 

─☼☼☼─

-CHARLOTTE-

Charlotte waited a few moments after the door was closed, counting the seconds in her head. 

When she was sure Rafe wasn't coming back, she threw the blankets off of herself, wincing slightly at the sudden movement. 

Letting out a deep breath, she looked down at her bare torso, her body only covered by a sports bra and a pair of pajama shorts which put her healing wound on full display. 

The hole where the bullet had ripped through her flesh weeks previous had begun to heal, but any sudden movements often reminded her of what had happened...what her body had been through.

The road to recovery hadn't been easily...especially when all she wanted in those moments was a hug from her mom and dad. It broke her knowing they had no idea where she was...no idea what was happening to her. 

But, even if she could find a phone somewhere, she couldn't bring herself to call them. Not until she had Kiara with her. She couldn't bear to explain to her parents that she had lost her little sister somewhere in the middle of the ocean. 

Hastily pulling a shirt on, Charlotte slipped into the pair of shoes that sat by the sliding doors that led out of the villa. She left them there every day...waiting for her to make her escape. 

The doors squeaked when she slid them open, causing her to cringe ever-so-slightly. She knew Rafe and Wheezie were long gone, Rose somewhere deep within the house. Ward had still not awoken much to Charlotte's relief. But despite all that, she was still fearful of being caught. 

For six days she had been sneaking out. And for six days she had made it out unscathed. She just hoped that today wasn't the day her luck changed. 

The sun felt nice on her cool skin, even as it began to set overhead. 

It seemed to reenergize her, giving her the push she needed to keep going. 

In the weeks since she had been shot, Charlotte Carrera had become a shell of the person she'd been. Her skin had paled, her ribs looked as if they were about to pop from her skin. She'd barely eaten, barely spoken to anyone. 

But that was all an act. And act she had to keep up. 

No one could be suspicious of her if she never left her room, never ate, never spoke. 

Throwing a look over her shoulder, Charlotte hurried down the path that led into the small town. Her flip flops smacked against the dirt as she pushed her body to go faster, fearful that Rafe would be returning from the beach sooner than she had expected. 

She'd figured out a good system for sneaking out. 

Everyday she would tell Rafe that she needed to rest─alone. And, being that he felt so horrible about what had happened to her, he would never object. Thus leaving her alone in the room with the door locked, and the perfect out. 

Part of Charlotte felt bad for lying to him, for sneaking around. The other part didn't give one shit. 

Her sister and friends were gone because of him and his father.

Despite that hard fact, Charlotte didn't hate Rafe. Not at all. 

The way he had cared for her after she'd been shot, how good he'd been to her...she couldn't deny that. 

But, as aforementioned, she had an act to uphold. 

So she treated him coldly. Barely acknowledging his existence ninety percent of the time. She'd even asked to have her own room─away from him. 

She could tell it destroyed Rafe. It was evident on his face how much he was hurting. 

He looked almost as rough as she did, and that was without being shot.

The two of them were fucked up that was for sure. 

"Charlotte!"

The voice came from one of the boats as she approached, as jovial and upbeat as ever. 

A small smile twinged on Charlotte's lips as she stepped onto the dock, raising her hand in a quick wave. 

"Hey, Mateo." She greeted, taking his outstretch hand before stepping into his boat. "Sorry I'm late. Rafe didn't want to leave me today."

The young man in front of her wore a knowing smile as he nodded. "Ah, right. The boyfriend."

"Not the boyfriend." Charlotte muttered, lowering herself onto the benched seat as exhaustion swept over her. "We've been over that."

Mateo grinned, already knowing how to get a rise out of her in the almost week he'd known the Carrera girl. "So hard to keep track."

Rolling her eyes, Charlotte leaned toward the maps that were laid out in front of the helm. Red circles and Xs were messily drawn around different parts of the ocean, scribbled in Mateo's handwriting next to them. 

"Find anything today?" She wondered, her face lighting up with careful hopefulness. 

Dropping his head, Mateo folded up the maps, barring Charlotte from looking at them any further. "Nothing yet." He answered, watching as her face fell. 

Almost a week ago, on the first day she had managed to sneak out, Charlotte had come down to the docks looking for someone who could help her. She needed someone with a boat, someone who could go out and look for her sister and friends. 

Mateo happened to be the first person she stumbled upon, but he had also been the best person for the job. He was adventurous, extremely skilled in navigation, and just genuinely a good person. 

When Charlotte had explained the circumstances (well, her own version of the circumstances, she'd left out a lot of the truth) he had been more than willing to help. 

They'd worked out a deal in which Charlotte would pay him for the gas he used (with money she'd steal from Rafe). She had wanted to pay him much more, but Mateo had refused─gas money was all he wanted. 

So, for six days, he had been venturing out into the ocean, looking for a group of kids he didn't even know, all because the pretty American has asked him to. 

"I want to come with you tomorrow." 

Charlotte's voice was steady as she spoke, the disappointment that had been coating her features moments earlier was now replaced by determination. 

Mateo watched her for a moment, surveying her expression. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" Charlotte pressed. 

"They're long days out on the boat, in the hot sun with little to no reprieve. And you don't look well, Charlotte."

"I'm fine." Charlotte snapped back, a bit more harshly than she intended. "And besides, how do you know what well looks like on me? You barely know me."

"Funny you mention that." He mused, "How do you know I'm not a murderer or something?"

Charlotte wanted to laugh. Him being a murderer would be completely on brand with the shit show that was her life. 

Keeping her face neutral, she rose a brow. "Are you?"

"No." Mateo answered with a small grin. "Are you?"

"Not the last time I checked."

Mateo studied her for another moment. "Does your boyfriend know you're here?"

Charlotte couldn't hide the angry blush that clouded her cheeks at Mateo's refusal to refer to Rafe as anything but Charlotte's boyfriend─which he most certainly was not...at least not right now. 

"No." She finally answered, "He doesn't know."

"You gonna tell him?"

Standing up, Charlotte swayed slightly as the boat bobbed beneath the gentle waves. "No point." She muttered, refusing Mateo's hand before herself up onto the dock. 

Glancing at the sun that had dipped below the horizon, she turned back toward the direction of the villa. "I'll see you tomorrow morning...and don't worry, I'll wear sunscreen."

─☼☼☼─

Mateo was right...it was freaking hot in that God forsaken boat. 

Charlotte loved being out on the water. She always had. 

But this wasn't the Outer Banks, and this wasn't My Druthers or even the HMS Pogue. 

Every single wave that Mateo's little fishing boat hit almost caused Charlotte to tumble out of it. The sun beat down overtop of them and she was sure she had sweat off whatever sunscreen she had put on before she left the house this morning. 

"How you doing over there?" Mateo wondered, his voice almost drowned out by the sound of the motor. 

Squinting under the sun, Charlotte gave him a shaky thumbs up. "Excellent."

A small laugh tumbled from his lips as he killed the motor, allowing them to sit idle for a moment. 

"What are you doing?" Charlotte questioned, a slight edge to her voice. 

Mateo nodded toward the shoreline. "Gonna lift the motor so we can drift along the shore. See if we see any sign of your friends."

Charlotte nodded slightly, a lump forming itself in her throat as she scanned the sandy beaches, hoping to see a sign─any sign of her sister and friends. 

Watching her carefully, Mateo paddled them along, his eyes less focused on the shoreline and more on Charlotte. "So, how'd you get out without the boyfriend stopping you?"

Tearing her eyes from the shoreline, Charlotte focused on the boy in front of her. He was wearing a teasing look, attempting to get a rise out of her. "Stuck a note to my door saying I wasn't feeling well." She answered with a shrug. "He won't bother me."

Mateo let out a low whistle, "Wow, love is in the air."

"You don't know the half of it." Charlotte snapped back, suddenly defensive. "It's complicated, alright?"

"Right." Mateo muttered, giving her a small smile. "I'm sure it is."

Rolling her eyes, Charlotte focused back on the shoreline, leaning forward slightly, "KIARA!" He voice cut through the quiet afternoon, startling Mateo slightly. "JJ! SARAH! JOHN B! POPE!"

"You got a lot of friends." Mateo commented, again, watching her. "How'd they all go missing?"

"I already told you." Charlotte remarked, squinting underneath the sun, "It's a long story."

"Have something to do with you being carried from a cargo ship covered in blood?"

Charlotte's head shot toward him so quickly, she could feel the muscles twinge in her neck. "What did you just say?"

Mateo rose his brows, "You heard me."

"How did you know about that?" She pressed, anxiety flooding over her. She didn't want him to know all the details of what had happened on the Coastal Venture. She wasn't sure she wanted anyone to know just yet. 

"Huge ship comes to port...kinda hard to ignore it. Random white guy comes running off the boat with a bloodied girl in his arms...really hard to ignore." Mateo recalled the events from two weeks ago─events Charlotte could not even recall herself. 

Charlotte fell silent for a moment, subconsciously looking down at her stomach where the bullet had ripped through. She swore she could feel the pain still, swore she could still feel the puddle of her own blood that she laid in while Rafe cried overtop of her. 

Mateo picked up on her discomfort, "Charlotte?"

Trying to calm her heart rate, Charlotte look back up at him. "I don't want to talk about that anymore. Let's just look for my friends."

"Okay." Mateo conceded, agreeing to drop the subject, "I'll drop it."

But even if he dropped it, it didn't erase the anxious grip that had taken a hold of Charlotte. Didn't erase the memories that flooded back to her or the pain she had and still continued to feel. 

Nothing would ever erase what had happened. 

─☼☼☼─

-an-

season 3, here we go!!!

i'd love to hear your predictions, or things you would like to happen this season

im halfway through season 3, so try to avoid spoilers in the comments if possible!!

love you all!

maddy xoxo