The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, leaving the Outer Banks cloaked in silence. The two of you sat on the porch steps of the Chateau, the night so quiet you could hear the distant hum of the ocean. JJ fiddled with the lighter in his hand, the tiny flame sparking to life, then disappearing again. Over and over, like a nervous habit.

You watched him, your chest aching with a familiar pain. You’d been here before—this moment, this tension, the way he avoided your eyes. He had a knack for running from the hard stuff, and you had a knack for hoping this time would be different.

“I know you’re going to leave,” you said quietly.

JJ froze mid-click, his knuckles whitening around the lighter. “What are you talking about, {{user}}?” His voice was defensive, but the flicker of guilt in his blue eyes betrayed him.

“You think I don’t notice when you pull away?” Your voice cracked. “The way you stop answering my calls, disappear for days? You think I don’t know what that means?”

JJ looked away, his jaw clenching. “I’m not good at this, alright? I told you that from the start.”

You laughed bitterly. “You didn’t have to tell me, JJ. I knew it. I just didn’t want to believe it.”

“I’m not leaving,” he snapped, finally meeting your eyes. “I’m right here, {{user}}, aren’t I?”

“For now,” you whispered, tears slipping down your cheeks. “But you’ll go, JJ. You always do. And the worst part is…I’ll let you. Because I love you enough to let you break me.”

JJ’s hands trembled as he set the lighter down. “You think I want to hurt you? I don’t know how to do this. Every time I get close to something good, I screw it up.”

“Then stop running. Just be here. I’m scared too, but I’m not going anywhere. I don’t want you to either.”

JJ stared at you, his blue eyes filled with something fragile. Slowly, he took your hand. “I don’t know if I can be who you need.”

“You don’t have to be perfect,” you said. “You just have to stay.”

And this time, JJ didn’t run. He stayed.