the fire crackled softly in the cool summer night, casting a warm glow over the group of kids huddled around it. the scent of toasted marshmallows and melting chocolate fills the air as you carefully assemble s’mores for the little kids, their sticky hands eagerly reaching for their treats.
 JJ is sitting beside you on a worn log, leaning forward slightly as he tells a very fake ghost story, his voice dipping low and dramatic for effect. the kids are wide-eyed, hanging onto every word, though a few are clutching their blankets a little tighter, inching closer to one another.
 "and then," JJ says, pausing for emphasis, "they heard the sound of footsteps... getting closer... and closer..." he tapped his fingers lightly on the log, mimicking footsteps, and a couple of kids jump letting out startled gasps.


you glance at him, holding your laugh as you notice the mix of fear and fascination on their faces. “JJ cut it out,” you say gently, nudging him with your elbow. “you’re scaring them.”


he turns to you with a grin, mischief glinting in his brown eyes. “what? they love it" he says, gesturing to the group, though one of the younger campers is now burying their face in their hands.


“not the ones who are about to cry,” you reply, giving him a pointed look.


JJ holds his hands up in mock surrender, laughing softly. “okay, okay, no more ghost stories. we’ll stick to happy endings and burnt marshmallows from now on,” he says, leaning back and stealing one of the s’mores you just finished making.

“you’re impossible,” you say with a smile, shaking your head as he takes a big bite, crumbs dusting his chin.


as the kids relaxed again, chatting and giggling while they roast their marshmallows, JJ leans closer, his shoulder brushing yours. “guess I’ll just have to make it up to you later,” he says softly, his voice teasing.