Heated Lies (Jiara)

Reconnection

It lasts about forty five minutes. He's tossing and turning beneath the sheets. He's flipped the pillow countless times. At one point he's pacing the room, trying to get himself tired.

Insomnia chose a horrible time to work him. He wouldn't admit to himself the real reason he couldn't sleep, not yet. He's craving her touch more than ever. He wants to be hugged, but a part of him feels childish for wanting that, despite what he knows Kiara would say to that.

"Oh, you're nothing of the sort." He's whispering to himself. "Don't say that. Don't think that. It's okay."

For a minute, he pauses, buzzing with the friction walking on carpet in socks has created. Still thinking about her. Still wishing he hadn't yelled at her. Except that one was new. Now he felt terrible.

He continued to pace until a light turned on outside his room door. He heard the click, and he saw the illumination leaking underneath the doorframe. It could be anyone, but he knows he's hoping it's Kiara.

Footsteps grow closer and then farther away. His mind lets him know someone had gone downstairs. The rest of the house is so quiet. Then, he hears the tv again.

He listens closely, and it almost sounded like Disney channel. Now he's positive it's Kiara. That means she couldn't sleep either, and now he's faced with a decision. He knows Nora would've shoved him down there in a heartbeat.

It still takes him a while to work up the courage to do so. He's going as quietly as he can to the rail, watching her from the top. She doesn't look very interested in the actual show, and it's more than obvious.

Then she shuts it off.

He panics instantly, rushing back to his room to close the door and hop into bed. It's like he's hiding from his mother back in the day. When he was young, he'd stay up past his bedtime, and then pretend to be asleep when she'd check on him.

He's taking deep breaths now. Moments afterward, he's angry. He's determined. It's bullshit, the way he's been acting. He wants to fix it more than anything else. If he couldn't last two days, he shouldn't still be waiting.

He pushes his hair back with his hands, as if to reassure himself. The blonde walks faster this time, throwing open the door and crashing into her. She gasps, mouth spluttering apologies.

"Oh, shit, JJ! I didn't mean- I'm sor-"

"No, wait, stop, stop." He's trying to shush her, and it takes her a moment to realize that. "That was my fault. Too eager."

She raises an eyebrow. "Eager?"

And his cheeks turn red again. He looks away from her, and she does the same. Except now he's looking back at her, eyeing her fitted silk pajamas. The top is a crop, hugging her sides in the absolute best way.

Her pants are kind of baggy, with small pockets. He remembers her complaining about pockets in women's clothing. She had been sleep deprived and delusional when she said it. It's that thought that makes him smile. Then he's back in the moment, waiting for her to turn back and face him.

Of course, she's not sure she wants to. She's debating on just walking back to her room. Kiara may have missed him, but maybe Nora was right. She wasn't obsessed with JJ. She wanted what was best for him.

It was only twenty seconds, but it's twenty seconds too long. The Maybank grew frustrated, letting the small fuck it in his mind surface. Within seconds, he's turned her chin back toward him, and kissed her.

Her lips were soft, inviting, practically parting as soon as he'd made contact. She's almost shocked, melting into him just like she'd done before. It doesn't take long for her to catch on. His arms are around her waist, pulling her much closer.

They pull back for just a second. He's looking at her for reassurance, and her reaction is a small mischievous smile.

"Kie... I-"

"Mhm, yeah." Her fast nod catches him off guard. It's like she's read his mind.

She grabs him by his tee shirt to crash their lips together again. By that time, any indication to stop had left the air. He's leading her back into his bedroom, and the door slams shut just as her shirt hits the floor.

***

Back in the Outerbanks, Mike receives a phone call.

"Carrera residence."

"Hi, we're sorry to inform you that the whereabouts of ...Kiara Carrera... are unknown. This call is automated to the parents as a precaution while we figure out how to handle the situation. If you have any questions, please call the direct line for California School fo-"

"Anna!!" He slams the phone back onto the receiver while his wife runs into their living room.

"Don't start fussing, it's late!" She starts, but before she can become angry, he holds his hands up.

"What is it?"

"I just got a phone call. Our daughter ran away."

Her mouth drops while he sinks down to the floor. She drops with him, taking her husband into her arms.

"She's okay, though?"

"They don't know where she is!" He exclaimed. "I thought we raised her better than this... I thought she was better than the kids at that camp! I wanted to be cautious and she just... Do you know how much money that was?!"

Anna sighed. "I know, honey. I'm sorry."

Mike grumbled, standing faster than his wife can keep up. "We have to get her back. Put her where she belongs. Stronger facility."

"You want to put her on tighter restraints?!" Anna raised her voice at the thought. "She already hates us!"

"She doesn't hate us!"

"Oh, and how do you know? Have you asked her? She was crying when she got on that bus, Mike!" His wife was nearly in hysterics. "I can't live like that."

His brows softened, looking at his wife with a firm expression that didn't meet his eyes. She was pleading with her own.

"I'm giving it three days. Then we're putting up missing signs."

"In the Outerbanks?"

"Where else is she going to go?"

accidentally made anna's name laura. for those of you that read this as soon as i posted it... oops 💀 but i fixed it

AN UPDATE YALL HAVE BEEN WAITING FORRRR! Yay! How did i do?😂🖤 anyway i have school tmr. spring break has ended and i have to crack down for finals. i figured i should leave you guys with an idea of what's to come. again, this doesn't mean no updates, it just means less frequent ones. okay BYEEE