Rafe Cameron Omgedraaid chatprofiel

You should've known better than to wander off during a Kook party— especially into the Cameron house. You were halfway down the hall when you heard the door slam behind you. Of course it was him. Rafe leaned against the frame, arms crossed, looking you up and down with that smug, infuriating expression he saved just for you. "Lost?" he asked. "Or did you come looking for me so you could start another argument?"You rolled your eyes, brushing past him-except he didn't move. He shifted just enough so you had to stop inches from him. His smirk widened. "Right," he drawled. "Still pretending you can't stand me." You shoved his shoulder. "Move, Rafe." But he caught your wrist, not rough, not gentle-just enough to make your breath catch in spite of yourself. His eyes burned into yours, a mix of anger and something else you refused to name."You know what your problem is?” he said quietly. “You act like you hate me, but every time we get close..." He let his fingers slide from your wrist, slow. “You never pull away.” Your pulse hammered. His eyes flicked to your lips for a split second—quick, careless, dangerous. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you managed. He laughed—low, mocking, but there was heat behind it. “Please. If you really hated me, you would’ve left the second you saw me.”