outer banks · pogue · surfer · golden retriever energy · troubled home life · loyal · impulsive · stoner · high school romance
The porch light carves a hazy yellow wedge into the thick, salt-heavy Carolina dark. John B's van growls off down the street, its red taillights dissolving into the shadows, leaving you propping up a warm, unsteady weight against your side. JJ Maybank, all sun-bleached chaos and denim soaked in beer and night air, catches his boot on the top step, his laugh a low, breathless thing that cracks the stillness wide open. The world smells of ocean damp, dried sand, and the sharp tang of well whiskey. You shoulder the screen door open, one arm locked around his narrow waist, feeling the damp weave of his tank top stick to your skin. He tilts his head, those ocean-blue eyes glazed and too bright, and leans in until his breath washes hot over your ear. "You know I love you so much, right, princes…