026 !! PROMISES

"I have to leave", Georgie mumbles as he kisses behind her ear, tightening his grip on her bare waist.

He hums, his ring clad hands roaming her side awakening tingles as his fingers slowly touch down her skin.

His lips trail kisses down her jaw, silencing her when she goes to speak again.

She grabs on to his shoulders and throws her head back, feeling his lips move down her skin peppering kisses all over her neck and collarbone.

Goosebumps arise where his lips meet her skin, a flame of undying thirst ignites itself spreading through her like a wildfire threatening to vanquish all in its path.

This feeling is nothing compared to the feeling of him pushing himself against her, his all-consuming lips moaning out her name in her ear as he thrust himself inside of her, his hands on her hip gripping onto her as if she's his sole lifeline in a life full of hellish demands.

She shakes her head, feeling his sweaty hair tingle against her jaw, his mouth still sucking on her neck.

"Rafe", she breathes out pushing him by his shoulders.

He hums for the second time, tracing his fingers down her stomach.

She sucks in a breath when he oh so gently touches the inside of her thigh, finger slowly trailing upwards.

"Rafe".

He stops, and pulls his head up staring right into her conflicted eyes.

He raises a brow and shifts to lie by her side, an arm coming around her waist to pull her flush against him.

"I gotta go", she whispers touching his arm.

Rafe groans hiding his face in her hair, "It's too early".

"I can't stay. I promised JJ. He'll have my head if I don't sleep there tonight".

"Stay here. I'll help you come up with an excuse", his voice sounds muffled as he shakes his head smelling the salty ocean scent of her golden hair scattered over the couch arm.

"No. We had a deal", she frowns pulling back to look up at him.

He breathes in frowning.

His gaze turns blank, eyes moving back and forth between hers.

He looks so much like Rafe Cameron right now that it scares her.

She feels her nerves striking up an invisible storm inside of her, the fear slowly creeping its way through every facet of her body.

It is horrifying to lay in a stranger's arms, no matter how beautiful his words are.

"Right. We had a deal".

His voice is back to the commanding low tone, that fearful rasp that every single person in Kildare County is petrified to encounter.

He's not Rafe, he's Rafe Cameron.

And that should've been enough for Georgie to stay away.

But she didn't.

And now she watches him pull back and sit up, leaning over her to grab his t-shirt from the ground.

She blinks, trying not to feel hurt but how do you not when the person who chose to silence your wounds looks at you with ice in the blues of their eyes?

Slowly, she sits up as well and immediately snatches her underwear off the ground suddenly feeling too exposed.

She stumbles over to the back of the couch, her neck littered with silent promises of where his lips had touched, and bends down to pick up her bra clasping it around her breast all while Rafe stays seated, his t-shirt in hand board shorts now covering his bottom half, sharp eyes following her every move.

Georgie pulls up her shorts and glances around for her faded paint littered t-shirt, not bothering to hide her frustration as she searches all around the room sighing and pulling at the roots of her tangled hair.

She crouches behind the couch, craning her neck to look below the furniture.

"Here".

His quiet voice sounds just behind her and she straightens up in an instant, taking the t-shirt from his grasp without meeting his eyes.

She pulls it over her head and tugs it down, smoothing over her hair as she makes her way into the kitchen for her shoes.

His footsteps follow her but she doesn't dare turn.

Slipping her shoes on, Georgie sighs carefully turning on her heels to face him.

"Goodnight, Rafe".

His brows furrow in confusion, not quite comprehending why she's suddenly acting so cold.

Well.

"Are you free tomorrow?", he mutters, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

Georgie purses her lips, wrapping her arms around herself.

"I don't know".

"Uhm, well . . . . text me if you are?".

He looks hopeful like they're supposed to work somehow.

Averting her gaze, she glances down at her feet not quite sure what she's expected to answer to that.

"Do you really want me to?".

Her voice comes out quiet, yet the weight of the words weighs down on him.

He knows he shouldn't have made her doubt herself. He knows that they made a deal, that she wasn't wrong when she admitted it herself.

But boy did it hurt, hearing it come from her mouth as if that's all they were.

Two people meeting up to fulfill some agreement.

He can't expect more of her when he himself isn't certain of what he wants.

And seeing her, look down so timidly as if she didn't just let him touch her and forget every little thing that worries her, hurts even more.

"Yeah. I do".

She looks up, chewing at the inside of her mouth.

Nodding, she leans up momentarily pressing her lips to his cheek and leaves the house.

Georgie retrieves her bicycle from the bushes and rides off, driving away from Figure Eight down the road towards the Cut which only takes about thirty minutes before she's locking her bicycle to the side of the porch and bounding up the steps to the door.

She pushes open the door and steps inside, quietly shutting it behind her as her eyes take in the state of the living room.

The television is turned on at a blaring volume, discarded beer bottles lay on top of and all around the partially broken coffee table.

A half empty pack of cigarettes is thrown off to the side with the ashtray tilting, threatening to spill the ashes all over the hardwood floor.

Her eyes cut to the snoring figure resting on the battered couch, his one arm dangling off the side whilst his head rests against the couch cushion, mouth half open as his breath comes out in loud snores almost matching the tv volume.

Georgie sighs leaning against the closed door.

She'd left the Glissons' house half-heartedly because she knew that if she wasn't in bed before JJ got back from breaking and entering at Mrs. Crain's house then she'd have hell to pay.

Like literally.

And of course she came back to an uprooted house, there's just no breathing when you live the life that she does.

She pushes off the door and pads over to the tv quickly turning it off before picking up the stray beer bottles and carrying them with her to the kitchen where she puts them in the bin.

She grabs a rag and walks back into the living room, picking up the ashtray and putting it aside as she cleans up the coffee table.

Placing the rag aside, she watches her father sleep one arm dangling off the couch and his mouth slightly open, a clear reflection of his intoxicated state.

Glancing around the room, Georgie finally grabs the quilt off the back of the sofa and carefully lays it over him.

It's hard hating him when he's the only one who's bothered sticking around.

His actions are still inexcusable but she still yearns to be treated right by him, feel like he loves her.

She just wishes, for once, she could have a normal life.

Which is ironic because isn't that what everyone wants?

Maybe she could go somewhere, far far away from here.

Take JJ with her, leave everything behind.

Go to Yucatan and start over with her brother by her side.

It wouldn't be so bad, now would it?

She doesn't have to be sorry for leaving and growing up.

Putting the pain behind and letting herself be human.

***
if you got the harry & gracie references then i love love you 🫀

'he fell first but she fell harder' = best trope ever ( closely tied w enemies to lovers ofc )