against her brain and her better sense of judgement.

tentative hands were slow as they slipped against his own, pulling still fumbling keys from his nimble fingers.

"you nervous or something, maybank?"

to the left as she studied his face, then allowed her gaze to travel down the length of his neck and his arms to his hands that seemed to let on to how nervous he really was behind that cool jj exterior.

"yeah, j, i do."

she answered instinctually, like her heart and her mouth had teamed up ➜

that did not come.

made her head ache, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of her nose in a failed attempt at finding some relief.

’𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬， 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬， 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬．’

kiara mumbled again and again as she began to pace the length of the twinkie, toe digging at the dirt, racking her brain for some answer to this dilemma ➜

taking place in her mind. she couldn't do this.. she shouldn't do this. it was jj. stupid, dumb, charming, lovable jj. what if this changed things? what if letting him jerk about on top of her for ten minutes left their friendship in tatters... and for what? to ease her bruised ego?

the thought ➜

kook girl?

the jealousy made a chill roll down her spine, head lolling on her neck in response.

no words followed, looking off towards the twinkie... a silent invitation if he were to pick up on it.

unwilling to part with the warmth of his touch.

"i just think－"

she began, unable to piece together a lie that would save her the embarrassment of admitting his insinuation he'd take just about any figure eight girl as repayment was something that cut at her ego. was she not better than some ➜

settle on his sad blue eyes. she hated those damn eyes. the way they melted her resolve.. the way they softened her often hardened exterior.

a frustrated huff was breathed out from her nose, shaking her head, curls bouncing with the movement. she made no attempt to brush off his hold though.. ➜

jj, a boy known across the obx for his natural charisma and playful flirtatious banter. what made this any different than something he'd say to just about anyone for a laugh?

grasp on her arm only momentarily disarms her, eyes finding slender fingers before traveling up the length of his arm to ➜

that left her unable to refute her level of sobriety.

"if you wanna fuck a kook, that's something you're gonna have to do without me as a wing man."

the hurt in her voice was overshadowed by her permanent annoyance and for that much she was thankful for.

once, she was left dumbfounded. grip quickly fell from him, both hands slamming roughly against his chest in a sudden shove, needing, desperately, to be released from his undeniable gravitational pull.

"get fucked, jj－"

the words left her with less of a slur than she would have liked, one ➜

found his throat and slid into the hair at the nape of his neck on impaired judgment. admitting it was something else－ admitting it was more, was simply something kiara was not ready to do just yet.

lidded gaze watched as every word fell from his parted lips, anticipation building until all at ➜

grin, fingers idly and honestly, unbeknownst to her, twisting themselves into the fabric of his cut tshirt... a fondness bred only from the mix of proximity and alcohol.. surely.

“𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘫？“

deny the sudden excitement that swirled in the pit of her stomach at his demand for repayment... her mind running free with possibility.. what he could possibly want from her... what she'd willingly give after making him work for it.. beg for it, perhaps.

“ 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯？ “

she mused with a ➜

“ 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 ’𝘴𝘰𝘴’ 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦？ “

a lie, yes.. but for good reason.

“ 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶．．． 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴．“