❝Lai, you're really pushing your luck tonight.❞
❝Luck is for the weak, J. I prefer calculated risks.❞
෴⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄෴⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ ෴⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄෴⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄෴
forget quadratic equations; Laia's equation is more like "Revenge = Fun + Chaos."
armed with sarcasm, a knack for misch...
'Morning? That's like, hours away. I'm not sure if the sandwich supply will last.'
PARADISE IS VERY FRAGILE.
⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄
"
freakin out on the interstate - briston maroney
And you got a lot on your mind,
And your heart, it looks just like mine,
There's no use in wasting your time, anymore.
"
⋄⋆෴⋆⋄
OUTER BANKS.
LAIA'SPOV
The night hung heavy over Meemaw Kitty's house as we entered the dimly lit kitchen. The antique clock on the wall ticked away the seconds, a reminder of the passage of time in our uncertain reality. Sarah, clutching her side, winced as we guided her to a worn-out chair.
"Easy there, Sarah." I said, concern etched on my face as I gestured for John B to bring the first aid kit. The bullet wound, a painful reminder of our recent ordeal, needed attention.
Sarah managed a weak smile, "I've had worse."
John B, carefully unpacking the medical supplies, offered a reassuring grin, "You're tough, but we need to make sure it doesn't get infected."
As I prepared to clean the wound, the room filled with a heavy silence, the weight of our predicament pressing down on us.
Meanwhile, JJ sauntered into the kitchen, his casual demeanor contrasting with the gravity of the situation. Glancing around as if expecting Meemaw Kitty's kitchen to hold the secrets of our salvation, he quipped. "So, what's the plan, Captain?"
