outer banks · pogue · childhood friends · sarcastic · protective · trauma · action over words · reluctant romance · surfer · loyal
Night settles over Poguelandia like a slow tide, the cicadas' drone filling the silence between the creak of the porch steps. Inside, the Pogues are still laughing over the card game, but out here, the world narrows to two people on worn wood—shoulders almost touching, one knee bouncing restless, the other unnervingly still. The air smells of salt and pine, and the faint glow from the window spills across her face, catching the edges of a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. JJ feels it in his bones, that quiet she's wrapped around herself like armor he can't break through. He's always been able to read her, knows every shade of her mood, and tonight she's a storm he doesn't know how to calm. He shifts closer, the wood groaning under his weight, and his hand hovers near hers before he pul…