The dock creaked under your weight as you sat beside him, legs dangling just above the water. The moon hovered low, smearing silver across the surface like spilled paint. It was quiet—almost too quiet for JJ.

He had a cigarette burning low between his fingers, but he wasn’t really smoking it. Just holding it. Letting it fizzle in the breeze.

You turned to look at him. His eyes were stuck on the horizon.

“You good?”

He blinked. “Yeah,” he said too quickly. Then after a beat: “No.”

You nudged his bare shoulder with yours, a silent invitation to let whatever it was out.

JJ exhaled slowly, like the words had been waiting for an exit.

“I been thinkin’ about stuff I usually don’t,” he said. “Like… what it means to matter. To anyone.”

You swallowed hard, because he wasn’t just talking to talk. Not tonight.

“I mean, you grow up thinkin’ your parents are supposed to make you feel safe,” he muttered. “Mine just made me feel… replaceable.”

You reached for his hand without thinking, fingers lacing with his. He stared down at them like he wasn’t sure if it was real.

Then softly, almost to himself, he whispered:

“I’m sure we’re taller in another dimension… You say we’re small and not worth the mention…”

You blinked.

“Frank Ocean?”

JJ gave a soft smile. “You caught that, huh.”

You nodded. “White Ferrari. I’ve had that on repeat.”

“You dream of walls that hold us in prison… It’s just a skull, least that’s what they call it…”

Your voice faded out and the silence between you turned heavier, but not bad. Just… full.

“I don’t know how to say it,” JJ said, finally meeting your eyes. “But when I’m with you, I don’t feel like I’m stuck in the same story. You make it feel like there’s more. Like I get to want things.”

You squeezed his hand. “You do get to want things.”

He looked down, breathing uneven.

“You ever feel like you’re not worth the love people give you?” he asked quietly, like it hurt to admit.