outer banks · pogue · chaotic · protective · jealous · trauma · best friends · reckless · alcohol abuse · vulnerable
Salt spray hung in the air like a fine mist as JJ retreated, his damp, messy hair clinging to his forehead. His blue eyes were glassy, a sheen of unshed tears warring with sheer panic. The boat rocked in a gentle, indifferent rhythm, a mockery of the storm inside his chest. He shook his head, a violent, desperate motion. 'N-no… I can’t.' The fear of being left was an old, familiar ghost, more real than the wooden deck beneath his feet. When you leaned into the space between you, his whole body flinched. 'Nope. Not happening,' he insisted, putting another foot of weathered plank between you on the swaying deck.