𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫, 𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫 | 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

36. drowning in pussy. (pt.2.)

T H I R T Y - S I X
drowning in pussy.

The sun has dipped below the waterline, I watch as the fractured sun that painted the water in warm hues is exchanged for the moon and its cool colours.

While the temperature has dropped a few degrees, it's still muggy as all hell and is making me miserable.

I'm ninety percent sure Sarah dragged me here because she's worried about me—she doesn't need to be. I'm holding up okay. I'm more frustrated than hurt. I know I did what I thought was best. I refuse to walk into the line of fire with JJ, acting like it's all okay while it destroys him. That's not being a good girlfriend-not-girlfriend. You can bring a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. Sometimes that's what JJ's actions feel like, I'm showing him how clearly his actions are going to hurt him, but if he doesn't want to do something he simply won't, even if it's in his best interest—especially if it's in his best interest.

It seems like JJ is so hellbent on fixing everyone else that he forgets to fight for himself. He's killing himself to try and break John B out of prison, just like he refused to give up—even when it hurt him—on me.

Now it's my turn, I'm not throwing in the towel. I care way too much to let JJ set himself on fire to keep others warm.

To the outside world, JJ looks arrogant, self-centred, and like an idiot, and sure, he is that. But he's also soft. Once you get past the exterior he's had to put up to protect himself, you see the real JJ. I see that boy most nights when he asks what I'm writing away in my diary.

"What are you writing in that thing?" He asks, looking at my pleather-bound journal in slight disgust. The black, crisp hue has faded and over the years been scratched away at. "I hope it's about how amazing I am; maybe about how big my–"

I slam the book shut and turn to glare at him. He's such an idiot. "I'm detailing plans to kill you. And world domination, but that goes without saying," I smirk down at him. He lays beside me, shirtless as always—I'm pretty sure it's an attempt to distract me and it sure does, but I have pride and refuse to bend to the whim of my ovaries.

"Am I ever going to be able to read them?"

I smirk, tying the pleater strings around the cover. "Over my dead body." He scowls, he hates when I refer to my death. "Now time for your education. I want you to see this episode of Grey's. Maybe we should start House soon?" I look over at him.

He hates me talking about my death so much it makes a single shiver run down his spine, something he clearly can't suppress.

Most of the time I listen and respect he's not someone who talks about death willy-nilly. But, when he pisses me off I bring it up.

"If I jumped off of a really tall building, would you jump too?" Steam rushes out of the bathroom from behind me, giving me a villain-like entrance.

JJ lays on my bed, sans a shirt, one of his arms is tucked under his head and the other is getting Grey's Anatomy ready. He stops what he's doing, his eyebrows pull together. "No, but–" he starts but I cut him off.

"I thought you cared about me!" A hand flies to clutch my chest as I pretend to be offended, walking out of the bathroom. I'm wearing my favourite shirt—the one with the fish, obviously.

His eyes trace over my body, my exposed legs, the white towel that twists my hair above my head and my skin that glistens from the moisturiser I slathered on. "Just give me a second. I wouldn't just because I'd run down real quick and catch you. Then we'd both survive and live happily ever after," he decides, finally meeting my gaze.