Outer Banks || Imagines

Photograph || JJ

   Sun light bleeds across the horizon, leaking deep hues of orange and red that stain the sky. The dingy window seal makes it look a little less vibrant, but nonetheless beautiful. 

    "Welcome back to paradise, huh?" John B teases from where he's appeared in the doorway. "Still as crappy as you remember?"

    I laugh as I sit back onto the bed. It still creaks when I sit down on it. "Yep, but maybe a bit more magical."

    He smiles. It's warm and welcoming and just how I remember it. "I'm glad you're back," he says. "It's been a while."

    Two years is more than just a while, I want to tell him. But I smile instead and sigh blissfully. It's good to be back. I used to call this little cramped bedroom a sort of temporary home. Back when I was sixteen and we could all disappear for days without our parents really even noticing. The days when I used to be in love. "Well, I think it was time to come back," I excuse. "I almost forgot what your stupid face looked like."

    John B fakes a hurt look. "Okay ouch. But anyhow, I'm heading out to meet up with everyone. Sure you don't want to tag along? Kiara would die to see you."

    I shake my head, replying, "No, I'll catch up with everyone later. I think I'm going to turn in for the night, but drink a few for me, okay?" I know they'll be doing a bit more than just hanging out if the previous years I'd spent with the pogues are anything to go by. I'm dying to reconnect with everyone again, but a part of me still remembers why I left. And who I left behind.

    He grins with a wink. "Of course—" He looks like he's about to continue, but John B pauses mid sentence before disappearing out the doorway for a moment. He quickly returns to the spare bedroom that I'm in, holding something behind his back. "Look, I know it's been a while, but you left this here and I didn't have the heart to toss it...," he explains, pulling out a shoe box, old, worn down, and coated in dust. "Do what you want with it. You don't even have to open it...but I thought maybe you'd like it back."

     We make eye contact while he encourages me to take the box. We both know why he didn't throw it. A part of me is a little bit angry that he didn't throw it. Maybe just a little bit pissed off that he didn't leave it under the bed where it belonged.

    "..Thanks," I finally say, taking it. John B offers me an soft, encouraging smile. 

    "See ya later," he says as he leaves. When I'm sure he's gone, I toss it across the bed. I'm not opening it.

• • •

   Four beers and a bowl of cereal later (because John B needs to fucking go shopping), I'm glaring at the shoe box at the end of the bed. I wish that he had burned it. But then my thought is, maybe it won't hurt this time. Because I'm over it, aren't I?

    A bit of self motivation, and I'm reaching for the box, flipping the lid open. Hundreds of memories fill the inside, ranging from photos to ferry tickets to sloppy handwriting scrawled on sticky notes. There's a newer looking scrap of paper that sits on top, but I ignore it for now because something else, a photo, catches my eye. 

    I'm smiling so wide, cheek pressed to the blonde boy's beside me in the photo. Our hair is dripping wet and we're crammed together, only just enough space left for the dog sitting between us to fit in the picture. His mouth is cracked open in laughter, and I can still hear it just looking at the picture. His laugh was the best sound in the entire world. My throat feels tight and my eyes burn with tears.

Harmony is the only word that could possibly come close to describing this moment. JJ's gentle hands roam my hips as water drip-drips down his scalp of blonde hair and then his shoulders, onto his firmly muscled back and runs down his spine. His lips mold softly against mine, creating the most beautiful of sympathies that reside in the steamy shower. I smile against his mouth and his soft laugh floats from between the smallest gap of space that he allows to come between our lips. My hand slips from around his neck, traveling down his chest until my fingers brush tender skin. My eyes flicker down to the bruised flesh, and hurt coils in my chest. JJ's hand comes up to meet mine, holding my hand in his.