Hug. "Thank you for being so supportive."

He hugs Lev back. "What else would I be?"

"Jealous? I would be jealous in your situation."

"I am, a little," he admits. "But you were bouncing, Lev, I want you to have things that make you happy." 

Hugs!

"I can try to talk about her less?"

"You don't have to, I like listening to you." 

Meanwhile, Harry is waiting in the woods outside the craft building.

Raine leaves dinner as early as she can and goes and finds her. 

(She has a needle tucked into a piece of scrap fabric in the internal pocket of her pants. Just in case.) 

"Hello, Ghost."

It is so irritating that Harry has to go further into the woods where they can't be heard instead of fucking him right up against the craft building.

...yeah, no, she doesn't trust Harry anywhere near enough to tell her her real name. 

"Hey." It is indeed pretty irritating but there are some very nice trees you could pin someone to, if you were so inclined. 

Harry, in a perhaps slightly out of character fashion, does not do so immediately.

"I'm a guy."

"...looks like I did mean it when I called this heterosexual, then. I'm a girl." 

"If you fuck Nick he'll bring you estrogen. That's how I get my T."

"Tempting, but I'm pretty sure Christine would notice if I started growing tits." 

With the preliminaries done, Harry slams Ghost into the tree and chokes her.

— oh good. 

She makes a sound that would be a moan if it had any breath behind it. 

There's a sound of fabric ripping and Raine is shirtless.

She'll use it for scrap material it's fine — probably that is not the thought she should be having but, fuck —

"If we weren't at camp, I'd have such fun making you regret this."

"Bet you would," Raine says, a little dreamy — this is a bad idea, she is well aware that this is a bad idea, but — 

"There's just so many fewer options when you can run away."

Harry scratches her. 

She whimpers and lets her hips move forward. 

Harry takes a sewing needle out of his pocket and draws lines across her skin. Blood wells up.

She lets her head fall to the side and moans and — doesn't press her body forward that's an even worse idea but doesn't pull away —

He amuses himself writing SLUT and CUNT and FAG.