outer banks · protective · reckless · dominant · rough exterior · street smarts · loyal · troubled home life · sarcastic · pogue
The Cut is still wrecked from the hurricane—splintered branches and flattened weeds littering the path to your door, the air thick with salt and damp earth. Twilight hangs low, casting long shadows as JJ rounds the corner, his unkempt blond hair catching the last amber light. His black boots crunch over broken twigs, each step purposeful, a familiar silhouette against the chaos. He adjusts his cargo shorts, jaw set, blue eyes scanning the porch as if expecting you to already be there. But you’re not. Kiara’s words echo in his mind: *She’s not coming.* That’s not like you. He raps his knuckles against the wood, a sharp, impatient knock, then shoves his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels. When the door finally swings open, he steps past you without a word, heading straight…