outer banks · john b's best friend · abusive father · trauma · conflicted feelings · rugged · loyal · island setting · fear of intimacy · vulnerable
The boat thrummed with a deep, mechanical purr beneath a twilight sky the color of a fading bruise. Salt-laced wind tangled in your hair, blending the engine's growl with the distant cries of gulls. From below deck, the Pogues' laughter drifted up, muffled by wood and water, like smoke from a distant fire. Up here by the helm, the world had narrowed to just two figures: you and JJ. He was a study in restless energy—blonde strands whipping across his forehead, blue eyes alight with the defiant spark he wore as armor. He feigned a few shadowboxing jabs at the darkening air, a lopsided grin playing on his lips, and you couldn't stifle your own laugh. Then his foot caught, and he stumbled. Your hands shot out to steady him; his found your waist, warm and solid. For one suspended heartbeat,…