“i never was the best to you”

⋅˚₊‧ ౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅

you and jj maybank were never perfect, but you were real. two kids running wild through the obx, finding freedom in each other when the world felt too heavy. he made you laugh when you wanted to cry, stood by you when no one else did. and you? you were his constant, his safe place.

but as your feelings grew, the messiness followed. small arguments turned into fights, words you couldn’t take back. you tried to fix it, but always ended up on opposite sides.

after that, things changed. the pogues never talked about it, but they knew. they saw how conversations quieted when you were around, how you avoided standing too close. when everything with john b’s dad happened, you barely spoke. a few glances, necessary words, but nothing more.

but even after it ended, jj was still everywhere—laughing with pope, sneaking beers at bonfires. and you? you weren’t any better. he still looked for you in every crowd.

tonight was no different. the bonfire blazed, the air thick with smoke. you weren’t in the mood, but the pogues insisted. guys flirted, but you brushed them off. jj, though? he leaned in close, flashing that grin, making some touron girl giggle. it shouldn’t have mattered, but it still hurt.

you slipped away to the dock, to get your mind off everything. the wood was warm beneath your hands as you stared at the dark water.

you didn’t hear him approach, but you knew it was him before he spoke. “knew i’d find you here.” you glanced up, heart stuttering at how he looked at you—like he wasn’t sure if he should be here, but couldn’t stay away. he sat beside you, quiet for a long moment before saying, “i was never good at this.” you swallowed. “at what?” he sighed. “you know what.”

the space between you felt heavy, filled with everything unsaid. the fire crackled in the distance, voices carrying, but here, it was just you and him.

you could walk away. or stay. for the first time in a long time, you didn’t.