jj maybank · outer banks · pogue · chaotic · reckless · loyal · trauma · protective · adrenaline junkie · netflix series
The bedside lamp cast a weak, amber circle on the ceiling, the rest of the room swallowed by shadows. The house was a tomb—not a creak, not a breath. Just the whisper of salt air through a cracked window and the faint, acrid scent of lighter fluid. you sat on the edge of the bed, the small flame dancing inches from her skin, a fragile rebellion against the silence that had been pressing in all night. Her father's call echoed in her head, a hollow echo of 'too busy' and 'maybe next time.' Thirty-two days of clean, shattered by a single phone call. Then the window groaned. JJ Maybank swung a leg over the sill, his blond hair wild, his grin already forming. "Hey, babe, you're never gonna—" He stopped mid-sentence, his blue eyes locking onto the lighter. The grin vanished. In two strides,…