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I slept quickly that day. I was drained from crying, from Rafe's outbursts, from everything. 

I opened my eyes in the middle of the night and I thought I saw Rafe going to the closet and opening it. I was too tired to completely wake up, but I watched him, half-asleep. He held clothes and struggled to put them through the hangers. I'm sure he even groaned, forgetting I was asleep. His temper is ridiculously easy to set off. I smiled silently and closed my eyes, hoping that it wasn't a dream...though I wasn't sure if I should ask. 

I woke up from the sound of the door knocking viciously. The door freed before I opened my mouth to yawn. Rafe stood there watching me stretch. What had he never seen someone wake up? I tilted my head to the side and watched him. "Good morning," he said and cleared his throat. He was holding a mug with brown contents. I prayed that it was tea.

His eyes looked anywhere but at me, as he walked toward me. "Are you scared of me?" I teased, still half-asleep. He tensed when he offered me the mug. His hand looked like he was about to smash the mug. I held the mug with him as double heat radiated his hand. He pulled his hand quickly away. He didn't answer my question, so I asked him another, "Cat got your tongue?"

Rafe's jaw clenched as I imagined dark black wings explode from his back. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As he walked back to the door, he said, "There are clothes in the closet." He locked the door before I could say anything. But I didn't have anything to say. He really came in here last night. Now I remembered the dark moons under his eyes, why he was so quiet. He was sleepy. Rafe Cameron, a sleepy-head. I laughed and took a sip from the mug. It really was tea. 

After drinking my tea, I went to the closet. There were two shirts, a sweater and a jacket hanging, and more clothes in the drawers. I wonder how long he spent folding everything. I recognised some of the clothes from Sarah's closet. Her clothes were too short for me, but they worked. I put on one of the shirts that barely reached my hip and threw on some denim shorts. As I struggled to pull the purple sock on, the door opened. 

I didn't turn to the door as I said, "Rafe, could you bring me a comb?" When he didn't answer, I turned to the door and saw Ward standing there. Ward's eyebrows were nearly blending into his hairline as he stared at me. "Um..." I moved back, hitting my back to the wall. I wished that the wall would liquefy and swallow me up. 

"Y/n?" he asked and looked around the room, but there was nothing to find.

I noticed the door was still wide open, so I slowly inched my way to it. I laughed awkwardly, "Hey, Mr Cameron. How are you?"

"What are you doing here?" Stop answering my questions with questions. 

"Oh, um..." I was already across the room, and Ward was just gazing at me confusedly. "I left something here and I was just looking for it." At that, I ran to the door. Ward was too slow and couldn't grab my arm. When I step foot outside the room, my face went into something solid and smooth. It was Rafe. 

He stood there looking down at me with gas flames in his eyes. He clasped my shoulders and pushed me back into the room. When he saw his dad, his face tensed and I heard him grit his teeth. 

"Rafe, what are you doing?" Ward questioned and pointed at me. 

Rafe curved his fingers around my wrist. He brought it up and exploded, "She knows I killed Sheriff Peterkin! I couldn't let her go tell Shoupe!"

Ward had his hand over his eyes. "How do you know, y/n?" He asked and stared at me. I didn't answer. Ward looked at my clothes and his eyes widened. "Have you seen Sarah?" 

Oh shit. 

"No!"

Rafe knew this wasn't true. He threw my hand and snatched my chin. He snarled in my face, "Those damn Pogues!"

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