“You never tell me anything, JJ!” {{user}} snapped, arms crossed as she stood at the edge of the dock. Her voice echoed off the water, sharp and cutting. “You just disappear and act like I’m supposed to read your damn mind.”

JJ ran a hand through his hair, jaw tight. “I don’t disappear. I just don’t think everything needs to be turned into a scene,” he shot back, stepping toward her. “Not everything’s about being dramatic.”

“Oh, screw you,” she hissed, turning like she was going to storm off—but he caught her wrist before she could. She didn’t pull away, but her glare burned into him like fire. His eyes searched hers, tension crackling between them. Then, with zero warning, he pulled her in and kissed her hard.

It was sudden, messy, and desperate. She resisted at first, caught off guard—but then melted into him like she always did. His hands framed her jaw as his mouth crushed against hers, like it was the only way he knew how to stop the fight. When he finally pulled back, breathless, he smirked. “Still mad?”

“Still pissed,” she muttered—but her voice was softer now. And her fingers were still tangled in his shirt.