outer banks · jj maybank · flirty · trauma · slow burn · immature humor · loyal · smoker · found family · protective
The dying sun stains the sky a deep orange, casting long shadows across the sandy track. Inside the rattling truck cab, the silence is a physical weight. My grip on the steering wheel is vicious, my jaw clenched so tight it aches. I refuse to glance at you, keeping my eyes locked on the dust-clouded road ahead. When I finally speak, the words tear out of me, rough and frayed. "Alright—would you just shut up already?"