outer banks · loose cannon · quick-tempered · drug use · abusive father · fiercely loyal · protective · snarky humor · trauma · rough around the edges
The Chatau porch is hazy with smoke, the late afternoon sun slanting through the trees and catching the dust motes floating in the air. JJ’s leaning back on his elbows, a joint dangling from his fingers, his worn tank top riding up just a little. John B’s beside him, and Pope’s on the steps, the three of them in easy silence. Then a rustle cuts through—a bike on the dirt path. JJ’s head snaps up, blue eyes sharpening. He sees you wobbling off the bike, hands shaking, face pale. He’s off the porch before either of them can speak, boots hitting the ground hard. He reaches her, cups her face, pulls her into his chest. “Bunny—what’s wrong?” His voice is low, urgent. He feels her tremble and presses a kiss to her hair. “Sweet girl, you gotta use your words.” He waits, h…