~ in which she was drowning and he saved her from the crashing waves. ~
though marliegh conklin was a kook, her life was nothing close to perfect. through every wave that came her way, she relied on the love of her darling pogues to keep her afloat...
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summer of 2019
~~~
"Sar?"
Marleigh, hair beach waved and skin sunkissed as ever, entered Sarah Cameron's moonlit bedroom.
"Sarah!" she whisper-yelled, bending over by the navy bed.
"Mmmm," her best friend stirred.
It was four in the morning, the night after Marleigh's first outing with the Pogues.
By 3:30, Marleigh had accepted she wasn't going to be able to go to sleep. She had pulled on her shoes, brewed a batch of coffee, and strolled across the lawn into the entirely unlocked Cameron home. She couldn't wait a single moment longer to spill every little detail of her adventure.
"I miss youuuu," Marleigh chimed, a little off-the-walls from the coffee. "Let's watch the sunrise!"
"Marleigh," Sarah groaned with her eyes still closed. "Five."
Meaning five more minutes, Marleigh guessed.
Seeing she was getting nowhere, she tiptoed out of the room to wait downstairs for a better time to wake Sarah.
Shutting the door softly, she turned to be met by broad, Poloed shoulders.
Jumping back a bit, she met his eyes and whispered, "What are you doing?"
"I could ask you the same, Conklin," Rafe Cameron smiled.
"I just want to watch the sunrise," she answered wholeheartedly.
He pulled his silver watch to his face.
"Looks like you have an hour and a half until then," he skepticised, looking her up and down to take in her silky pajama set. "Can't sleep?"
"How'd you know?"
"I can't either. Coffee?" he suggested, gesturing to the stairs.
"I've already had a cup," she played with the hem of her shorts, replaying their last interaction. Truthfully, she was scared of him, but wanted to give him a final chance. Not for herself, but more so to please her dad. "But I'll join you," she offered with her best smile.
"Right, uh," he began as they walked toward the stairs, "how would you feel about pancakes?"
"I'm a waffle kinda girl," she joked. "But I'm down."
Before they knew it, the kitchen was a mess: pancake mix covering the counter, the remainders of strawberries on the cutting board, batter dripping out of the waffle maker Rafe had fished out, and an orange juice stain covering the front of the her blue pjs.
Neither had a worry in the world, though.
Still dark outside, the light in the kitchen was dim since it normally relied on the natural light the windows provided. Marleigh sat at the bar watching Rafe finish up with some eggs. He had learned she likes hers sunny-side-up while she observed he prefers his scrambled with cheese.
