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𝟮𝟲 art of telling the truth
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Neither of themwanted to get up from bed the next morning.
Neither of them talked either because somehow in both their heads it'd registered that talking meant eventually having to get up.
JJ was lazily tracing the tattoo on the back of Trinity's arm with the pad of his thumb and that was enough movement for the both of them. He'd gone over the V-shape of the Pieces constellation over a dozen times now that he could do it a dozen more times over with his eyes closed— which was exactly what he was doing. Eyes closed with his steady breath falling on Trinity's forehead, he had his other arm folded behind his head, against a pillow and had her drawn into his chest.
Trinity's leg was falling asleep under JJ's and his soothing, feather-like touch on her skin was likewise lulling her back to sleep. The only thing keeping her awake were her thoughts which were running a million miles a minute.
JJ's pleased smirk when they'd first woken up and his eyes had fallen to her neck had excited Trinity, but in her half-asleep daze she'd put off getting up to catch a glimpse of the bruises littering her skin in the bathroom mirror. The Maybank boy had told her that she would need to find a way to cover the hickeys up before she went home to 'Papa Shoupe' so Trinity was now trying to remember where Ellie kept her makeup.
Then she thought about going home and seeing her dad. She'd lied to him again about being with Ellie ( when she was instead with JJ Maybank ) and it quite literally left a bitter taste in her mouth since she hated betraying her dad's trust. She wanted to tell him about JJ and she would have if only JJ wasn't JJ. If he was ANY other boy, Victor Shoupe would have known about him. But noooo. Trinity had to go and get in bed with her father's least favorite kid on the island. Just how the hell was she supposed to break it to him that she was as good as in love with JJ Maybank?
