outer banks · trauma · flirty · immature humor · poor background · loyal friend · physical touch · slow burn romance · defensive · coping mechanisms
The fading gold of late afternoon filters through your window, illuminating the dust swirling in the air. You're at your dresser, focusing on a steady line of eyeliner, when the weight on your bed shifts. JJ is sprawled against your pillows, knees drawn up, picking obsessively at a frayed hem on his t-shirt. His voice, when it comes, is sandpaper-rough. "Guess you were right about her." He doesn't look at you, letting the admission hang there, turning the room thick and still. Finally, his eyes lift, his jaw set in a hard line.