Butterflies (OBX JJ Fan-Fiction)

Prologue

"You know you could probably fix this place up."

It'd cause a fight, but I couldn't deny the fact that he wasn't wrong, and I wanted this place more than anything else in the world. It was my fatal flaw, needing things. I've said it about countless things before, things that have started screaming matches with my parents: a few tattoos, a Prada bag and matching boots, a Takashi Murakami pillow for my room, all of which felt like a piece of me that I had to have. Until I started to feel empty again, and find something else to want so much I'd take a couple hits to get it. I liked things, because if you get enough wants in your life you begin to feel as though you can define yourself through the materials you have. I could call myself an individual because of my collection, I could ground myself to the floor because every product on me was picked out by me. He wasn't so bad himself, the type with ink and sunken eyes, the type that would probably wreck my life if I wanted him like I wanted this boathouse on the edge of my dads new property investment.

I also just have really shitty taste in men, so Nick Paris was looking like just my type.

I don't mean that in the sense that I wake up and decide I'll let a guy destroy me, it's just something that happens, something that comes naturally with who I end up wanting.

So I'll settle for now on dying for this abandoned boathouse instead of a boy, mostly because I told myself I'd change, but also because it was the only appealing thing about my new home in the Outer Banks. It wasn't that the rotting wood and rat shit compared to the marble countertops and on-suite I'd be getting if I simply let my dad tear this place down, but it was the distance I'd get from my family if I had it. "I think I'd die for this place."

Nick laughs, a deep chuckle that sounds like cigarette smoke and a poor moral conscious, "isn't that a little dramatic?"

"If you knew my family you'd say the same."

He shrugs my comment off, "I guess if I had to move out when I was you're age, I'd try to take it. But death? Do you not fear it?"

It was a deep question for someone to ask, especially considering the fact that he was simply hear out of courtesy; to help his fathers neighbours move in.

When I look up at him I expect to see a smile on his face, but he asked a seriously question. I softly shake my head, "life is boring when you do." You can never find all the pieces when you're always scared they will shatter, and I don't know if I'd even see myself as a person without the parts I've collected.

I remind myself that I had promised I'd be good, that I was just doing what everyone in LA did. I guess my dad decided to test that theory by moving away. Perhaps I've already shattered, I think in silence, and I'm just throwing myself at death for no good reason at all. But I've learnt that I don't know how to live life any other ways, and maybe that scares me more than death; living.

But, it's safe to say that my internal conflict caused some problems, at least, that's why I assumed we moved to North fucking Carolina in the middle of march. I glance away after a few seconds, my intuition creeping in just enough for me to notice how weird it was that I was sitting alone in a dark room with some guy I had just met. I felt his gaze even after I started to walk away, "what did you say your name was again?"

I know he knew my name, but I played dumb anyways. "It's Lexi." He brushes past me to open the makeshift door, his hand resting on my shoulder as he pulls it open for me. The one thing I can confidently say is that I'm good at attracting my type, even if I don't mean to, even if the mysterious 25 year old wasn't exactly the best thing to attract for the sake of my mental stability. But I just smile, looking up at him as he leads me out of the opening, I smile through the guilt of knowing that I'm still the same dumb bitch I was before. "So what about you," I ask in a low voice, bordering on sarcastic, "do you fear death?"

I'll admit, maybe I wanted the boy too... but who says you can't have both?

"Well now you're just making fun of me," he chuckles, "but why don't we hang out sometime and I'll show you life that's far from boring."

Do you not fear death?

His question rings in my ear, making me try to justify my unchanging answer. "Maybe."

I walk a few steps ahead of him as I hide the smirk which plays on my mouth, knowing deep down I'll make another bad decision.

I wish it bothered me more then it did then, and if I were to know what I'd proceed to find out over the next few months I would have kept walking and wiped that stupid smile off of my face. That was the one thing I can say that Nick taught me to d0: walk away. Walk away or else you'll find yourself just wishing he'd put a bullet through your scull and leave you alone. I guess it was growth, slowly building myself up from rock bottom.

Do you not fear death?

No, but I will learn to fear you.

Until that realization though I'd fight to keep the boathouse, and fight to keep Nick in my life as well. In fact, it'll only be by mid April that I'd come to learn that even boys can add to my collection of material things; things that made me individual.

In Nicks case, it was a scar that extended from my right temple to my cheek, missing my eye by an inch.

It was just a shame that it wasn't enough to make me feel like a person, even if the scar was a reminder of the life that still reluctantly flows through my veins. The problem was that it didn't matter how many pieces I'd add to myself, because I was empty, and I realized then that I was going to stay empty until I found a way to fill the void.

——————————————————————————————
Authors note

Welcome! I'll preface this book again with strong themes that will not be suitable for all readers, and so if you are sensitive to certain topics like the ones mentioned in the description then read with that in mind. This does roughly follow the plot of the Netflix series, obviously, but there are going to be certain additions which make the themes a little darker and a little more mature.

So, don't go into it expecting a couple kids just looking for gold!

Also, I don't think I'm going to put a smut warning at every chapter that has such content so if you're like 12 then just treat the whole book like a smut warning. The book also isn't heavily edited and I sometimes write without really thinking about it so please ignore it if a sentence trips you out.

Finally, this book was entirely based off of my brain deciding to hyperfixiate on this damn story so I'm well aware of the fact that the whole thing is just out of pocket. Enjoy.