⸝⸝₊ ┊run for the hills
── the king and queen
of kildare island ♰ ‧₊˚ ⋅⩩

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⁰︎⁰︎ °.   VALENTINA STERLING wasn't one for pillow talk.

It was useless in her opinion. The endless whispers, the promises that were bound together like the sheets between their legs. They never meant anything. Not in actuality. Not to her in any sense. Men could whisper all they wanted, but her perfectly pierced ears would never pick up on them.

Valentina never left enough time for the pillow talk at night and she never stuck around long enough in the morning to even open her mouth to let a whisper spill out. If she was lucky, they wouldn't even be awake by the time she left. The boys on Kildare Island weren't worthy of her time. They didn't get to hear about the Kook Queen's greatest secrets. No one on the island even knew her middle name.

Valentina Sterling was Kildare's biggest and best kept secret.

'Loose lips sink ships,' that's what her mother had always told her. 'Just like your grandfather. He got what was coming to him 'cause he couldn't keep his mouth shut.'

She knew better than to talk to people about things that didn't concern them. To reveal things that only she knew, to spill other people's secrets that she may have heard in a hushed whisper against her ears. Secret's gave you power — knowledge about everyone else — but secrets can destroy just about everything.

Just like everything else in the Outer Banks.

Things got messy; people started fighting, money started disappearing, relationships started crumbling.

Everyone's except her cracking relationship apparently.

Valentina Sterling and Rafe Cameron were Figure Eight royalty. But even royalty has their cracks in the fault lines. The queen herself could tell you that, not that she would. Loose lips sink ships.

That's what drew her away from pillow talk. Talks never ended well so it was easier to ignore. Ignore it all until it goes away, problems work themselves out in the end...that's what her dad taught the Sterling kids. 'Problems fix themselves, sweetheart, and if they don't...pay up.' Hush money was hush for a reason. Hushed bribes in a corner of the empty Country Club to keep their secrets just that — a secret.

Valentina Sterling had her ears on the biggest secret of all...Rafe Cameron was in love with Valentina Sterling.

If he were to ask where she heard that from, she'd deny the shit out of it. If a fellow Kook were to ask her if it was true? The two would be seen out at dinner that night, arm candy for the two just like it should be.

The Kook King had fallen right into her lap and she couldn't seem to push him off. He was wrapped around her finger just like the shiny gold ring that bit right into his sun kissed skin. It was everything she could've wanted, and everything she hated.

No feelings. No feelings. No feelings.

She always had to remind herself. And she was pretty sure there was a point in which if you had to keep reminding yourself...there was no point in trying to fight it after a point. But Valentina Sterling was a fighter, and she'd be damned if she let her heart win an argument with her head for once. The second her heart wins, that's when everything crumbles.

It crumbles underneath the silky sheets that they constantly tangle themselves up in every night. The fraying edges revealing themselves as the whispers get spilled and the kisses pick up.

That's how most of their mornings started these days.

With Valentina waking up hours before Rafe could even realize she was gone. The last thing Valentina Sterling would be seen doing, is doing the damn walk of shame out of the Tannyhill residence, and with the Cameron's? That news spreads like wildfire, half of the Figure Eight would be hearing about it before she'd even made it back to the comfort of her own perfectly cleaned kitchen.

Everything had to be clean, otherwise it complicates things.

Rafe's room was always clean. She'd noticed that almost immediately when they had started this whole...situation. It was almost compulsive how clean it was at times, and it wasn't even because of the maid. He had everything in it's spot, nothing ever moved, nothing out of place, it was all...organized. Organized because his room was the only thing he seemed to ever have control over in his life.

The only thing Val had managed to pull out of him at a time, was that it helped his need to feel better about himself. Being compulsive about his room helped him gain back that respect he had for himself that his father was constantly ripping away from him.

His room and Valentina; that's what he had control over.

But he could never seem to make her stay in bed in the mornings.

Valentina was already up, sitting up in the bed as she rubbed her hands up her face and through the brown locks that lay against her bare shoulders, sunkissed hair. Never a knot, never out of place, the epitome of a perfect hair day all the time.

Maybe if she was up before breakfast was ready, he wouldn't have the slightest clue where she had gone.

Rafe had always been an early riser though.

Valentina carefully pulled the stretched tank top over her head, letting the fresh cloth drape over her tired, freckled skin before a hand stopped it from reaching its destination. A hand scratching smooth patterns over her back, tracing each place her spine had appeared against the rising sun before the ghosting touch had recognized the shirt trying to cover her body. It was his.

"Hey," a croaked voice broke the silence, not startling her but having her look over her shoulder to see the Kook King himself giving her a tired, weak smile. His eyes were closed, not willing to let his sleep escape him any more than it already had. "What're you doin'?"

Val reached down for the pair of underwear that got discarded the night before, it was thrown about haphazardly like it was in a rush to get out of the way. Rafe's hand was keeping her still and secure on the bed, feather light touches covering her back, a hint of possessiveness behind them. A reassurance that this was it for him.

"Getting dressed," Valentina answered him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. The bed moved when she stood up, his hand falling down to the warmed sheets where she just laid before he let the material scrunch between his touch. A silent plea for her to get back in bed.

"Yeah...why?" He'd wanted to argue, to tell her to relax all day because they had nothing better to do with their time.

"'Cause it's the morning," she laughed quietly, walking over to his closet when she was decent enough, picking up her jean shorts on the way.

"On a day where we have nothin' to do," he'd reminded. As far as he was concerned, they weren't doing shit today. "Get back in bed."

Val rifled through his closet, the hangers clinking together occasionally as she picked out her wardrobe for the day. It was a wardrobe she reserved for only inside their houses, yet another secret that the island of Kildare would never get to know. A wardrobe that consisted of Rafe's old college hoodies and button up polos, an outfit that only he got to see her in. And fuck he'd be lying if her said it wasn't the best sight on the island. The Queen, dressed to the nines in the King's clothing.

"Val," he called out again when she had failed to answer his first plea. It took a few minutes. He listened for the silence, the quiet rustling in the closet before she eventually emerged. Clad in jean shorts and the same polo shirt he had always kept specifically clean just for her hung up in the corner. It looked better on her than it ever looked on him. Not that he would tell anyone that. "C'mere, baby," he pulled the comforter back on the bed, inviting her in.

Val let her eyes fall on the warm bed again, memories of last night plaguing her mind and practically fighting off her facade before she shook her head lightly. Her feet carried her over, letting her knee rest on the mattress to sit up before Rafe had quickly put an end to that and pulled her down to the bed.

Practically nose to nose, Valentina could see the new freckles forming on his face, the wrinkles the sun had created that she somehow loved the more he got.

"Hi," she murmured quietly, smiling as a tired grin grew on his face.

"Hi," his voice was soft, such a contrast to the sharp, brash man he was any other time. "You hate me that much you always gotta leave?"

"Maybe I do," she joked, the smirk on her glossed lips giving away her tinge of annoyance.

"Doubt that," he snorted.

He had an arm underneath her, his fingers trailing over her back softly as the shirts covering her bunched at her waist. His other hand always with a firm grip on her hip that threatened to always break the seal under the waistband of her shorts.

"I'm a sensitive man, Val," he feigned. "You gotta protect my fragile heart."

She laughed, letting her head rest against his cool, silky pillows before she let her hand find purchase in the crook of his neck.

"You're a big boy," she promised. "You can protect yourself. Don't need your daddy coming after you because you got a little heartbroken."

"Yeah? What's that supposed to mean?" He caught a glimpse of her blue eyes as they trailed over his face. Memorizing his features, burning them into her mind, afraid to let go.

"M' don't know," she shrugged weakly, almost a little pathetically as a finger moved to his face to trace his cheekbone, feeling his skin twitch under her touch before they landed on his lips. "You don't seem like the type of man to get your heart broken. You're the one breaking hearts."

A breathy chuckle escaped him. She was right about that.

Something the both of them had in common was that they would be caught dead before they'd be caught getting broken up with. They did the heart breaking. The King and Queen had a reputation to uphold. Flings, alcohol, drugs, parties. It was quite the reputation, no one else even came close to touching it.

Being together but not being together gave them a freedom they hadn't had before. It gave Valentina a reason to stay away from the skeezy Kook's who thought they could grab her some cocaine and she'd whisk them off to her bed. Her ex had tried it — that was the only time it worked — and he didn't last much longer as the man who had gotten Valentina Sterling in his bed. He was the first man who had broken up with Valentina Sterling — and the last one.

Rafe was merely the only man she'd respected enough to pleasure her fake ideals.

"For better or worse?" He mused jokingly.

"You got your business going yet?" She shot back, a teasing smirk still on her face. "Thought that was the deal. Business," she pointed at his chest. "Then maybe we talk about...that."

"Oh, the marriage thing?" He smirked. "No, no, I was serious about that, baby."

"I'm sure you were. You let me know when you find a girl who likes you that much that's willing to put up with that —" she was interrupted with a short yelp when he had pinched her waist, cutting off her teasing as Rafe chuckled to himself. "Asshole."

"The money ain't enough?"

Val rolled her eyes, pulling her head back from his carefully. It was some joke Rafe had going. That he was going to marry Val the minute he had a business all to himself and it took off the ground. She could buy as many designer brands as she wanted, go to as many luncheons as her heart desired, and have a dozen houses on deserted islands.

"Get a business going," she patted his chest. "Then ask me again."

"You're insufferable," he let her push her away gently before his grip tightened on her waist, pulling her closer. Manicured nails landing on his chiseled chest before tracing nonexistent patterns.

"Well, I suppose..." she whispered, letting her finger run over the goosebumps that formed against his tanned chest, her eyes following the chills run over his body before catching his cocky smirk again, "what's a successful business man without his incredibly hot wife."

"Mm...didn't wanna stroke your ego," the tease fell easily from his lips.

"Didn't need to," she bit her lip at the tease before letting her palm rest against his skin. "You got enough ego for the both of us," she smiled as his quiet chuckle, he was always so easy to talk to when he was still half asleep. "But, Mrs. and Mr. Rafe Cameron has a nice ring to it," she mused dreamily, a hushed tone that was threatening to spill into a whispered promise. "Kook King and Queen."

He hummed again, he liked that promise. Her whispered dream was broken when he'd pulled her closer, muttering a quiet dream into her lips.

"That's the plan, baby," he murmured against her lips before kissing her hard when she'd giggled at the reassurance she knew would never become a reality. "Mr. and Mrs. Cameron."

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