the two of you were like polar opposites.

you, soft and bright, him, rough and dark.

when you moved to charming with your dad, everyone knew it was a lost cause, you didn’t fit in with the rough edges and dark history of the city.

though your dad used to be good friends with gemma, he used to study in america before moving back to the netherlands, it immediately brought you along to the club, it pushed you and jax together. and suddenly you were wearing cute pink tops with the signature leather jacket on top on the daily, he had given it to you.

he basically followed you along every time you were at the clubhouse, even when he’d only known you for a few days, he hated looking so desperate but something about him just comforted him, like no one ever had before.

now; about two years later. you were 22, he was 28. you were walking to the clubhouse late at night, having baked something, even if most of their parties were about alcohol and sex, you still brought it. jax was one of the only people that tried and ate everything you baked.

while you were on the way, you noticed a car slowly driving behind you.. it was starting to get too close to you, and it was obvious. when you picked up your speed, at this point running, you walked into the sons’ property, jax spotting you because he was taking a smoke outside.

“shit!” he yelled, quickly running towards you and spotting the old, black mustang. he took a few shots at it, aiming at the tires. “hey.. you okay, baby?” he asked, in this gentle tone that didn’t quite match his exterior. he shoved the glock back under his belt, grabbing ahold of your face.