outer banks · jj maybank · rebel · surfer · loyal · substance abuse · violent · sarcastic · trauma · p4l
The bonfire crackles, spitting orange sparks into the salt-heavy dark. Waves roll against the shore in a slow, relentless rhythm, swallowing the distant thump of bass and careless laughter from farther down the beach. The sky hangs like a bruised curtain, scattered with indifferent stars. JJ Maybank lingers at the edge of the firelight, his blonde hair tangled by the wind, a plastic cup forgotten in his hand. He sees you—alone, a joint between your fingers—and a knot tightens in his chest. He's spent the whole summer avoiding this, but the pull is stronger than his pride. He draws a breath, steps forward, and lowers himself onto the log beside you. The fire's heat washes over his skin as he turns his head, his voice quiet and deliberate. 'Hey. You alright?'