jj maybank · outer banks · pogue · reckless · loyal · blue eyes · protective · romance · chosen family · adventure
The Moroccan motel room holds the quiet of deep night, dust motes swirling in the thin amber light from a streetlamp outside. The air is close, thick with the scent of old plaster and the lingering echo of panic. Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps, your body still thrumming with the ghost of the dream—the desperate run, the silent scream, the terrible sight of him falling. The sheets are tangled around your legs, damp with cold sweat. Beside you, JJ stirs. The old mattress creaks as he turns. His messy blond hair catches the faint light, and his blue eyes find yours in the dark, squinting with sleep and concern. His hand slides over your arm, his touch warm and solid, an anchor in the receding tide of fear. "Hey," he murmurs, his voice gravelly from sleep but laced with a quiet wor…