Ignored & Neglected - Outer Banks

Chapter 5: The loves of my heart and the loves of yours seem to be the same.

There's rarely a day Sarah's not on time, but today's one of them. She's jogging up the track to the art house, the oppressive heat already making her sweat as she takes the steps two at a time. The bell has already begun to chime, and if she's not in the door by the last chime, she'll be getting a det from Mrs Ram. She was the kind of teacher who enjoyed catching out the good kids – who naturally believed every student was inherently bad, and disobedient, and that some were just better at hiding it. She would absolutely relish the opportunity to give Sarah a detention.

She's just rounding the corner, about to wrench the door open and proclaim that since the bell is on its last chime, she's technically on time, when someone comes out of nowhere and swings her around by the crook of her elbow.

"Hey- what the-" She begins, before there's a hand on her wrist, pulling her around the corner. She's about to continue protesting when she sees who it is. John B is standing in front of her, a grin on his face. "What the fuck?" She asks, finishing her half-started sentence.

He's pulled them completely out of sight, directly behind the art house wall, which has a thin path running between it and the mountainside that continues on up. It's a crowded space, and if it were anyone else, she'd feel cornered.

"Manhandling me even in broad daylight are we now?" She asks, grinning up at him cheekily.

"Thought I'd branch out." He responds, taking their proximity as an opportunity to run his fingers gently over her forearm – almost subconsciously. It makes her skin prickle.

"Well – branching out is making me late." She says, mustering up an irritated tone, but her eyes betray her, the edges crinkled by her smile.

"I think you might survive, if I'm being honest." He says, and he steps forward, closing what little space there was between them.

"Oh yeah? You sure about that?" Emboldened, she juts her chin up, meeting his eyes, a challenge. His eyes dart over her head just briefly, checking for- someone. Anyone. Any eyes that might be there.

"I'm certain." Is his answer, as he closes the distance entirely. He kisses her gently – and she can't help it as her lips stretch into a smile against his. He slips his arms around her waist, and she lets her fingers track their way up to the collar of his shirt, fingering the hair at the nape of his neck. It's always felt – well. Sarah always feels like there's a glow in her chest that's bubbling up, up, up, whenever he does something like this.

She pulls back slowly, reluctantly, and rests her forehead against his. "Bold move, John B."

He ignores the comment and kisses her again. It's less sweet this time, a little more tongue and teeth, Sarah's arms crisscrossing at the back of his head to pull him impossibly closer.

"I'm still late." She murmurs against his lips, but his mouth swallows the words, which is enough for Sarah – she at least attempted to protest.

It's the sound of the art house door slamming that pulls them away abruptly, and John B swiftly flattens himself against the wall of the building, throwing an arm across Sarah's midriff to push her back too.

She looks at him, eyes wide, slightly panicked. He puts a finger to his lips, but he looks completely at ease, brown eyes meeting hers steadily, unflinching. She can't help but notice the purple bruises under his eyes – she wonders if it's possible that he sleeps even less than she does.

The footsteps fade off into the distance, and Sarah lets out a sigh of relief – nearly every student at Rivers College spends their days holding their breaths, hiding in dark corners and away from prying eyes. It's the only way to not go insane from the strictness of it all; to forcibly take a little bit of autonomy back. And yet – Sarah will never get used to it, to the fear of being caught. John B lives on it though, thrives from it. It makes her feel more alive – just being around him.