When Phoebe Crivari-Routledge and her mother, Charlize, hear word of Phoebe's father and her half brother's sole guardian being presumed dead at sea,
they drop everything in effort to care for John B and move back to the obx.
(cover by me)
(obx sea...
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Humming to the soft music of the radio, I push empty beer cans and pizza boxes off of the kitchen bench in front of me. After clearing the space, I dig in my pocket for my stash of green mixed with all the items necessary for a joint. I hold the bag up, grinning.
Using the clear space, I tuck my tongue between the corners of my lips and focus on rolling, ignoring the sounds of JJ and Pope messing around in the background.
"Pheebs, I do hope that is to share," JJ announces himself with a stupid posh accent, appearing beside me and wiggling his fingers like a old-timey bank robber.
"I guess it is now," I grin, holding the joint between my teeth as I snatch a lighter from the bench and light the other end. I inhale sharply, letting the smoke slowly drift from my lungs as I hold the joint out for him to take, "I hope you don't butt suck,"
"I'll suck your... butt," He trails off, pausing to look down at the joint once he realises how strange he sounds.
"You're so fucking weird, J," I laugh, shaking the wince from my face as I leisurely lean back on the bench.
"You should really get better at rolling," He comments, examining the joint with a smirk before putting the substance between his teeth.
