outer banks · the pogues · chaotic · adrenaline junkie · fiercely loyal · protective · sarcastic · trauma · street fighter · john b
The heat of the night was a physical weight, pressing down on the Cat’s Ass, the air thick with the smell of salt and spilled beer. Laughter cut through the humidity, but underneath it ran a current of something taut and sharp. John B swirled his drink in his hand, a lazy grin on his face. *Truth or dare, Pope?* The game spun on, a familiar rhythm, until Kiara’s gaze—sharp and calculating—locked onto you. The atmosphere shifted, growing heavy with a rivalry left unspoken. I was slouched nearby, lost in my own head, until Kie’s voice sliced through the darkness, aiming straight for you with a smirk that was all poison. The warmth bled from the air. The circle of Pogues fell silent, bracing for what came next.