𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑, jj maybank

𝟏𝟑, 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃

★・・・・・・★ ・・・・・・★

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑
1x13
disturbing the dead
( 3rd person )

★・・・・・・★ ・・・・・・★

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐁'𝐒 destination in the twinkie, the night slowly setting in.

kailani was holding a blunt professionally rolled for her by jj per her request. kay usually never asks jj for anything, even a blunt. she doesn't like asking for things from people in general. but today, she was feeling particularly down. she felt an unusual weight burdening her chest. she was feeling vulnerable. she was so smitten with jj at the wreck, she unconsciously opened her heart to the idea of him. something her brain wasn't too fascinated with.

obviously, as soon as she asked him to roll her a blunt, he knew something was off with her. he even asked her if she okay, but truth be told, she'd rather choke on her own words in silence than allow anyone and most specifically jj maybank to see her in a state of vulnerability.

she felt as though her own soul betrayed her. she felt uncomfortable, and like she didn't belong in her own body. how can her heart wish for something her mind perceives as forbidden? 

jj maybank was one hell of a predicament.

she wanted to forgive him. in fact, she was totally content with forgiving him, but a small part of her is refusing to let her do so. she had spent the last 7 years praying for his downfall, she can't just forgive him overnight. how could she when she spent too long grieving him when he was very much alive.

she stared out of the window as she prayed she would get over this feeling. she subconsciously played with the ring jj gave her.

"you mind if i just relax on this one?" jj asked, "it's been a long day, and a lot of weird stuff's gone down. i'm just gonna lay low." he continued, waving whatever it was he was smoking this time around. pope eyed, what he calls, 'the cancer stick', as it was getting way too close to his face.

"oh, do you want a hit of this?" jj asked, extending his arm so pope could reach the cigarette.

"i keep the signal clear." pope put his hand in the way, and blocked the cigarette from getting any closer to him.

kay, who was just on the verge of tears, laughed. one thing kay loved so much about pope was that he was effortlessly funny. most of the time, his intention isn't to be funny. his sarcasm sunk deep into his bones, and ran through his veins; it was as vital as his own blood. you can't imagine pope without thinking of his sarcasm, and you can't think of sarcasm without remembering pope.

"dude, okay," jj began, clearly annoyed with pope's goody two-shoes act. "do you understand that your problem is that you don't get creative? if you got creative then-"

"look, i know i was wrong about the lighthouse, alright? and wrong about everything else going on. but i was right about one thing, okay?" john b interrupted jj's lecture. "my dad is trying to tell me something."

"wait- where are we going?" kay asked, her eyes red from all the weed she smoked.

"how much of that did you smoke?" jj asked snatching the blunt from her.

"you can't have both." she shook her head, looking at the cigarette he held with his right hand, and the blunt he held with his left.

"kie, take this." jj passed her the blunt.