𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞.
outer banks universe.
❀ | S U N S H I N E °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
─── if she was the sun, he'd stay outside
forever
❝ 𝘚𝘏𝘌 𝘞𝘈𝘚 𝘓𝘐𝘒𝘌 𝘚𝘜𝘕𝘚𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘌, 𝘐 𝘊𝘖𝘜𝘓𝘋𝘕'𝘛
𝘎𝘌𝘛 𝘌𝘕𝘖𝘜𝘎𝘏 ❞
Brooklyn Routledge, twin sister to John B...
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𝟎𝟎𝟐. 𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬
pumped up kicks ──── foster the people
ᯓ★ 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐥𝐲𝐧'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯
𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖪𝖤𝖸 𝖩𝖮𝖧𝖭 𝖡 𝖥𝖮𝖴𝖭𝖣 𝖨𝖭 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖲𝖴𝖭𝖪𝖤𝖭 𝖡𝖮𝖠𝖳 𝖫𝖤𝖠𝖣𝖲 𝖴𝖲 𝖳𝖮 𝖠 𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖸， 𝖴𝖭𝖠𝖳𝖳𝖤𝖭𝖣𝖤𝖣 𝖬𝖮𝖳𝖤𝖫. After a storm like Agatha, parts of the town can look disregarded, dirty, and unkept, but this motel looks like it was always like this── like it's been unkept for years and years, always hitting the brunt end of storms to still end up like this. It's very clear that nobody takes care of this place, but why would anyone? It's nowhere near any civilisation, and it's so secluded that it makes sense for it to look... like a meth lab.
Let's just say, this doesn't look like a place somebody with a Grady-White stays, so why did John B find a motel key for this place? We need to locate the room and find out who this guy was.
Because I want to investigate and not be on "cover duty" like Pope and Kiara, I get out of the boat first much to my brother's arguing. I always sit on the sidelines, but I don't feel like it today. I want to be involved. I want to figure out why some guy's expensive boat sank, and he stayed in a motel as dirty as this.
John B and JJ walk ahead of me, and I linger behind them, looking at all the dirty mattresses that have been flung onto the ground. JJ says they ditch the mattresses after a hurricane because they're mouldy.
I peer over my shoulder, waving to Pope and Kiara who seem to already be in discussion about something. I assume they'll be talking about math or the environment or something along those lines, and while I love them both, I'd much rather be doing anything but listening to them ramble on── no offence to either of them.
JJ drops back, now walking alongside me as we reach the top step. His arm brushes mine, and a shiver runs up my spine. Anytime he's close to me, my body instantly reacts── I can't explain it, but it's damn annoying.
I wonder if he knows. Everyday, I look at him, and I question if he knows how he makes me feel. Perhaps he says things to me because he knows. Then again, he acts the same with me as he does with other girls, so I don't consider myself lucky, not in any kind of way.
