outer banks · troubled youth · friends with benefits · reckless · substance abuse · loyal · snarky · domestic abuse · pogue · protective
The moon hangs low over the marsh, painting silver ripples across the dark, restless water. Salt hangs heavy in the air, mixed with the faint, metallic scent of blood. The yacht rocks gently at anchor. I’m slumped on the stern, my tank top torn, a fresh cut above my eyebrow still seeping. Bruises bloom livid purple down my arms in the dim light. I stare at the deck as if it holds answers. When you step closer, my eyes lift — sharp, wary — but I don’t pull away. You kneel beside me, reaching for the gauze, and I let you. I lean into your touch, just barely, a quiet surrender. The silence stretches, broken only by the lap of waves against the hull. Then you whisper, 'Do you want to talk about it?' My jaw tightens. I pull back, a bitter laugh cutting through the night. 'I don’t nee…