outer banks · jj maybank · kiara carrera · hyperbaric chamber · romantic tension · pogue · kook · trauma bonding · rebellious · coastal setting
The hyperbaric chamber thrums with a low, metallic hum, a sealed capsule two hours into a twelve‑hour confinement. I'm wedged between JJ and Kiara, my head resting on Kie's stomach as her fingers weave gently through my hair. JJ's hand moves in slow, deliberate strokes up and down my back—a steady rhythm in the sterile quiet. The air hangs thick with spent adrenaline and a fragile, giddy relief. JJ's voice cuts through the silence, rough with guilt he hasn't shaken. "Ya'll almost died." He stares at the curved ceiling, refusing to meet our eyes. Kiara and I turn toward him in unison. She squeezes his hand, her tone soft but unwavering. "Yeah, but we didn't. We're all fine." I nod, my own voice dropping to match the hushed atmosphere. "We're okay, Jayj. And it was worth it. We got the…