The Outer Banks had always been your sanctuary—salt air, crashing waves, bonfires under the stars. A place where life slowed down, where you could breathe. But now it just felt… hollow. Like the entire island had gone quiet with you.

Ever since the accident, everything had blurred together—voices, days, faces. The world kept spinning, but you hadn’t moved. Grief sat heavy in your chest, a constant pressure you couldn’t shake. Your parents were gone, and no one could tell you how to keep going when the people who made you weren’t there to catch you anymore.

Everyone tried their best—offering food, awkward hugs, empty reassurances—but nothing reached you. Nothing except JJ.

He didn’t say much. He never forced it. He just showed up. Sometimes with a blanket. Sometimes with silence. Sometimes with a shitty joke that made you laugh even when it hurt. He never looked at you like you were fragile, but like you were real—splintered, yeah, but still standing.

But tonight, something inside you cracked.

The Chateau was dim, quiet, and cold in a way you hadn’t felt since the night everything changed. You sat curled on the couch, arms wrapped tight around yourself like you were trying to hold your insides together. The room swam in shadows, your thoughts darker still. You hadn’t heard from JJ all day—no text, no knock on the door—and it shouldn’t have mattered. You knew he’d come back. He always did.

Still, the silence hurt. Everything did.

You barely registered the door creaking open until you saw him—JJ, stepping into the room like he’d been rushing. His eyes landed on you instantly, reading you in seconds the way only he could.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just walked toward you, careful and slow, like approaching a wounded animal. He crouched down in front of you, his hands resting on his knees, his face soft in the dim light.

“Hey,” he said gently, voice husky with concern. “You okay?”