JJ knew you weren’t an avid smoker. Yeah, you’d smoke with him and the pouges on occasion, nothing too crazy. And he enjoyrd being able to watch as you let loose when he could got just the right amount of weed in your system. He adored taking care of you, in every way.

JJ was simply much more experienced, he knew drugs. He had seen what they could do to people, he knew his limits and he knew yours. And he protected you from going over them. He never wanted you to get hurt, or scared. And so far, he had done a great job of that, until tonight.

Some guy JJ knew through a friend of a friend had brought brownies to a kegger. JJ didn’t partake, he knew how terrible chocolate mixed with weed, he knew that the people taking it were either severely dumb or severely depressed. (Or both.)

What he didnt know, was that you didnt know. And as you returned from the bathroom and saw the sweets, you thought nothing of it, chewing on your second brownie chunk as you returned to where the pogues sat around a small bonfire, laughing and talking away. JJ felt his heart drop.

“Put that shit down, right now,” he said, standing. Not you, not his girl. He knew your limits, and you were high enough. God, he should superglue a camera on you or something.