#jj maybank
THREE - CRESCENDO
SUMMARY: in a world where everyone has a predetermined match, JJ Maybank and Y/N Montgomery want nothing to do with theirs. it has to be a cruel joke; the universe forcing two people to love each other when they don’t know how.
PAIRING: jj maybank x reader / soulmate au
WORD COUNT:6.4k
SONG:CHOPIN’S MAZURKA NO. 19 IN B MINOR, OP. 30, NO. 2
https://open.spotify.com/track/0hGDs64YOGdwvWzMMMM8vg?si=IEoruq6LR2yxlrWGckAozA
✰✰✰
The rest of the night was a blur.
You couldn’t feel Millie’s firm arm around your shoulder guiding your calculated steps towards the car. You couldn’t see Kate drag her boyfriend away from an impending fight. You couldn’t taste the metallic bitterness flooding your mouth from biting your tongue. You couldn’t hear the Range Rover door slam shut behind you.
You could only feel the bitter churn of your stomach. You could only see a mesmerizing ocean blue. You could only taste a burning desire. You could only hear the erratic thump of your heart—or was it his?
You desperately tried to pull herself back to normality. You counted your steps. Left foot, right foot. You drummed Beethoven against your thigh. Op. 41 No. 2. You took deep breaths. In 4 seconds, out 8 seconds.
You paid no mind to Topper’s erratic driving that nearly sent you flying out of your seat. The thundering argument amongst your friends was just white noise. You weren’t sure how you’d managed to climb back into your room in your vexed state. Or how you’d gotten into bed. You weren’t sure how long you stared at the ceiling above in a state of complete shock. You weren’t sure whether you’d slept at all, or how much time had passed.
Was it all just a fever dream?
Because it sure felt like one as you awoke from your restless sleep the next morning.
Your unceasing mind made your head pound. Dark circles graced the underneath of your eyes from a severe lack of sleep. You felt dirty again, like you had to wash away the filth and grime of your own thoughts.
A sharp knock and piercing shout forced your stinging eyes wide open.
“Y/N! Dad wants you in his office!”
You couldn’t muster a reply. Your dull eyes remained trained on the white plaster above as Georgia noisily bounded away from your door and down the hall. You allowed herself to stare into the off-white abyss until your vision blurred and your younger sister’s words finally sunk in.
Your dad finally wanted to speak to you.
You’d nearly forgotten about the blowout with your parents. But in your defense, the past 48 hours felt like an entire week.
You rolled out of bed, peeling your eyes away from the dull ceiling. You ran your fingers through your hair in a lazy attempt to brush the knots out. You sluggishly slid your feet into a pair of slippers and grabbed a silk robe to cover up your pajamas. With sleep still clouding your judgment, you didn’t bother to brush your teeth or make yourself look a little more presentable. Instead, you grabbed the information packets Madame had given you the other day off of your desk and headed towards your father’s office.
Your slipper-clad feet shuffled against the polished floor, and as you walked down the hall, the nerves began to kick in. You were reminded of what deep-shit you were in with your parents. Through the events of last night and your grogginess, you’d forgotten the severity of the situation.
Your father’s office door loomed dreadfully before you. Your heartbeat was erratic, and you felt sweat building up on your palms. You suddenly regretted not taking a few extra minutes to fix your disgruntled appearance. But you knew if you kept her father waiting too long, you would’ve been in even more trouble. So, with a long sigh and shaky hand, you twisted the brass handle of the mahogany door. You didn’t miss a beat. The moment the door swung open, you blurted out,
“I’m sorry.”
Clyde Montgomery let out a low sigh and glanced up from the paperwork spread across his desk. He pushed his glasses from the bridge of his nose to rest on the top of his head and ran his aging hands over his face. He waved one hand in your direction, signaling you to take a seat.
You shuffled into the plush seat across from his desk. Your heart beat violently in your chest and you subconsciously clutched the information packets tighter. Your leg shook with anxiety while you watched your father jot down a few last notes before looking up at you. His hard gaze made you shudder.
“What brought this on, Y/N?”
His calm, calculated tone made your throat dry as you racked your brain for the perfect response. You carefully set the packets down onto his desk so they didn’t touch any of his work. You watched your father furrow his brows and pick up the Berklee College of Music packet before flipping through the others.
“I want to study piano in college,” you barely spoke above a whisper while he rifled through the papers, “Madame Mercier gave me these information packets a couple of days ago. They’re some of the best music programs in the country. She thinks I have a good chance of getting into at least one of these schools, but only if I drop sports to focus on playing piano.”
He clicked his tongue, and you felt like disappearing. His hard face made it difficult to decipher his thoughts, but you were sure he wasn’t very impressed.
“And what do you plan on doing with a music degree?”
You could sense the distaste lacing his even tone.
“Wherever it takes me. I could go into composition, accompaniment, perform professionally. Maybe I could go on and get a Master’s in another area,” you bit the inside of your cheek.
Her father hummed at your response but still didn’t give much away.
“So, you plan to apply on your own and just hope you get in? No connections, no pull, no likely letter?”
You flushed. The way your father spoke about your plan made it sound a lot riskier than you had previously thought.
“Well,” your cleared your throat, “Madame knows of a Juilliard scout who will be vacationing in the Outer Banks in a few weeks. She’ll be setting up a showcase for him to watch. Madame told me that if I’m able to impress him, it will be a huge boost in my application and get the conversation going with Juilliard early.”
Your father perked up at the mention of Juilliard.
Clyde and Margaret had never approved of careers in the arts or anything else they deemed useless. But they loved name dropping even more than they hated ‘frilly liberal arts degrees’, and Juilliard was a much bigger name drop than any Carolina university.
“Juilliard,” your father hummed to himself while flipping through the packet of the New York school. Behind his stern features hid a greedy glint in his eyes.
You popped your knuckles out of habit while you waited for your father’s reply. You could see the gears turning in his head, but you didn’t dare say a word. Instead, you observed the wrinkles gracing his forehead, the dusted greying of his hair, and the wire-rimmed glasses resting on top.
“I need to talk to your mother first, but if you can get a pull from the scout, we can reconsider your extracurriculars.”
You straightened in your seat and relief flooded your body. You opened your mouth to reply, but your father beat you to it.
“If you don’t impress the scout, you’re going right back on the field. Your mother didn’t put so much effort into connecting you to the South Carolina coach for nothing,” he continued, “Until then, you are expected to continue your tutoring and test prep. You will attend all of your piano lessons. And if you step one foot out of line, you can consider this deal off.”
His folded arms and harsh tone made your skin crawl.
“You will behave. You will have poise. And you will represent the Montgomery family name as it should be represented. Understood?”
You nodded vigorously despite the underlying threat.
“Yes Sir.”
“And please, be easy on your mother. She works way too hard and has enough on her shoulders. She doesn’t need any more stress.”
You felt your neck and face heat up. You nodded again with wide eyes.
“Yes Sir.”
Clyde leaned back in his desk chair with a sigh, rubbing his temple.
“Dixie has agreed to drive you to your lessons this week and give your mother a break. I trust you’ll communicate your lesson times with her and be prompt.”
“I will,” you forced down a groan at the thought of Dixie driving you. You knew it would be a pain in the ass getting your older sister to drop you off and pick you up on time without complaint, but you knew better than to complain.
“Good. Our talk here is done, then. Go clean yourself up and get ready for the day. I have a meeting in 10 minutes,” your father’s attention shifted from you to the work on his desk.
“Yes Sir,” you stood from the chair, “Thank you, Dad. I won’t disappoint you.”
Your father shot you a dismissive nod, which you took as your cue to scurry out of his office and shut the daunting door behind you. A huge weight lifted from your shoulders and you felt like you could breathe a little easier. But despite the temporary relief, you knew you still had a lot of work to do.
You rushed back to your room to get ready for the day with a newfound bounce in your step. Your only worry for the time-being was getting Dixie to drive you to piano practice at 3:00. No thinking about how you were going to explain the events of the night before to your friends, or making up with your mother. But most of all, no JJ, and no soulmate.
✰
“You haven’t practiced.”
You slumped over the keys with a groan, “I’m sorry—”
You yelped as Madame Mercier stabbed her pen into your lower back, “And you’re slouching! Do you want to do this or not? Because I will not teach you if you don’t take this seriously, pas du tout!”
You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair, gripping slightly at the roots.
“I want it. I just didn’t get a chance to practice yesterday or today.”
You could feel your teacher’s temper rising, so you quickly added, “I had to deal with my parents and, uh,” you coughed before unintelligibly mumbling, “my soulmmmnn.”
Madame Mercier’s glare sharpened, “Your what?”
You gazed up at her through hooded, guilty eyes. Realization dawned over your teacher. The old woman sighed and raised her wrinkled hand to rub the temple of her forehead.
“Merde,” Madame Mercier mumbled.
“He won’t be a problem, Madame. I’ll take care of it,” you sighed.
“You say that now,” the old woman matched your exasperated tone, “It will be far more difficult than you think. You mustn’t forget your priorities.”
You turned to completely face your teacher. You looked the older woman directly in the eye and spoke with confidence, “Please, believe me, Madame, I have my priorities straight. No more sports, no parties, and no soulmate. I want this more than anything.”
Madame Mercier gave you a reluctant stare. You shifted underneath her piercing gaze. The woman clicked her tongue before finally replying.
“Put away the Nocturne. You’ll prepare Fantaisie Impromptu for your showcase.”
Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. Chopin’s Fantaisie Impromptu Op. 66 was the most difficult piece you’d ever learned, and while you had a grasp of the notes, you were far from mastering it. The six straight minutes were torture for your hands, and the sixteenth notes layered on triplets were a nightmare.
“But Madame, I’m nowhere near ready with it—“
“If you want this so badly, then you will be ready.”
Your shoulders slumped in defeat but you nodded, knowing she was right. You packed up the sheet music spread out across the piano and dug through your bag for the dreaded piece of music. Madame spoke while you spread out the difficult Chopin piece across the music stand.
“You won’t have much time to impress him. You need something short but effective. If you can master a piece that professional pianists only dream of playing, then you are a shoe-in.”
You nodded and straightened your posture with a newfound determination. You wanted this. And you were going to prove it to Madame, to yourself, and to your parents.
The last 30 minutes of your lesson were torturous. The notes were blurring together and the abnormal rhythm was making your head pound. Madame had even stuck a marker underneath your right hand so that each time you lowered it too much, a red dot appeared.
You were mentally exhausted by the time you stood from the bench and packed up your bag.
“Practice, practice, practice,” Madame clapped her hands fervently.
You nodded, “Yes Madame.”
“You are only as good as the hours you put in! N’oublies pas!”
Madame Mercier called behind you, but you were already halfway out the door. She knew you were appreciative, but sometimes lessons could just be so exhausting.
As you stepped out of her nice home, you braced yourself for the blistering Carolina heat but were enveloped in a wave of humidity instead. The sky was canopied in an ominous, stormy grey, and you could smell the oncoming rain. A soft breeze billowed through the neighborhood, but not enough to mask the wet heat of the Outer Banks.
You hurried down the pathway to wait on the sidewalk for Dixie whom you prayed hadn’t forgotten to pick you up.
"Need a ride?”
Your heart skipped and you jumped in surprise. You whipped around to the source of the voice but immediately regretted doing so.
A shirtless JJ Maybank leaned against a lawnmower in the neighboring yard. The lopsided grin dancing on his lips and the devious glint in his eyes made your blood boil. You let your eyes briefly wander down his toned chest and abs which were glimmering with a sheer layer of sweat. Your gaze flicked back upwards, hoping he hadn’t noticed your wandering eye. The growing smirk on his tanned face told you otherwise.
You tried to swallow down your heart which seemed to have leaped up into your throat.
“I have one,” you squeaked and internally cringed a your tone. You cleared your throat before continuing, “Thanks, but no thanks.”
“I wasn’t offering.”
You could almost taste the smugness rolling off his tongue. You narrowed your eyes, but he only grinned wider.
With a huff of annoyance, you turned sharply on your heels to face the road. You could feel JJ’s eyes burning into you and you shifted underneath his gaze but fought the urge to look back.
“You know,” JJ’s voice made your hair stand on end, “I just saw a Mercedes-Benz E-Class pull up around 10 minutes ago. Seemed pretty eager to leave.”
Your body heated with frustration. Dixie must have left you. How long had you been in Madame Mercier’s house? You ignored JJ’s watchful eye and dug your phone out of your bag to check the time.
4:07.
You scoffed. You were only seven minutes late. Would it have killed Dixie to wait a little bit longer?
“Bitch,” you grumbled to yourself while shoving your phone back in your bag.
“Problem?” JJ hummed.
You rolled your eyes even though you knew JJ couldn’t see you.
“Nope. Perfect day for a walk,” you quipped.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, countering your statement. You could feel the boy smirking behind you and you forced down a groan. Instead, you hiked your bag higher on your shoulder and began your 30-minute walk down the sidewalk.
“Walk fast,” JJ yelled, “I don’t really feel like getting drenched. Or struck by lightning.”
You quickened your pace and blindly flipped him a freshly manicured middle finger. JJ’s hearty laugh made your knees buckle. You yearned to spin around and march over to the sweaty boy to finish what you’d started last night.
But, for once, your logic trumped your desire.
You all but ran away from your piano teacher’s house and your soulmate. The last thing you needed was another reminder of the night before, let alone a run-in with JJ.
Another wave of thunder rumbled in the distance, and you clutched your bag tighter. The feelings you’d been suppressing since the night before crashed over you alongside the oncoming storm.
You still didn’t know how to make sense of the night before. You didn’t understand the almost magnetic urge to run back to your soulmate, and why you couldn’t just will it away. You let her mind slip back to the feeling of JJ’s lips brushing against your bare shoulder. Just imagining it sent a jolt of electricity up your spine. You would never have guessed the stupid book in your library was right. Touching your soulmate for the first time truly was a feeling like no other, and you longed to graze your skin against his one more time.
As your thoughts escalated, the storm grew closer. The sky was getting darker, and your mind was working even harder.
You couldn’t deal with a soulmate right now, even if you wanted to. You had priorities. You hadn’t worked so hard for the past 15 years only to fuck it up because of some boy on the other side of town. Your sinful thoughts of his chapped lips and messy hair were fueled by greed.
You only desired JJ. You lovedpiano.
“You’re fucking kidding me!”
The clouds broke and water poured down all at once. The drops were violent and unceasing, soaking you instantly. It was like someone was dumping bucket after bucket of water over your head. You stomped into an already-formed puddle on the sidewalk in frustration.
Screw Dixie, and screw JJ.
You moved to dig your phone out of your bag, but decided against it. It was pouring so hard, you weren’t sure if you’d even be able to use it without getting serious water damage. Instead, you broke into to the quickest jog you could manage through the storm.
The roaring thunder and crying sky made it nearly impossible to hear anything else. But you could just barely make out a loud honk from behind you. You whipped around and squinted through the water running down your face
Through the pelting rain, You could make out the silhouette of a beat-down pickup truck identical to the one Pope picked you up in the day before. It slowed into a stop right beside you. The window rolled down a few inches; just enough so a familiar pair of mischievous eyes could peek out.
“Need a ride?”
If looks could kill, JJ Maybank would be 10 feet under.
“I thought you weren’t offering,” you scowled, setting off on a brisk walk again.
The truck lurched forward to keep up.
“Well, you feel pretty fuckin’ miserable. Which means I feel miserable. So do us both a favor and get in.”
You stopped abruptly and JJ slammed on the brake. You spun around to face the truck. Your arms were crossed and your glare was menacing. You weren’t sure whether JJ could make out your less-than-friendly features, but he certainly felt the annoyance bubbling in the pit of your stomach.
“Don’t be fuckin’ stubborn,” he groaned.
You ignored the voice in the back of your head urging you to keep walking. You knew you’d regret it, but you marched towards the other side of the truck nevertheless. You yanked open the passenger door and hopped inside in one quick motion. You sighed in subpar relief once the door had shut behind you. The inside of the truck was nice and dry, but you were still completely soaked.
“Better?” JJ snickered.
Refusing to give him the satisfaction, you disregarded the Pogue and leaned over in your seat to wring your hair out. Water dripped all over the floor of the truck, creating a large puddle.
You felt JJ move closer to you and you stiffened. You glanced at your soulmate out of the corner of your eye.
JJ had twisted his body and leaned over the backseat to rummage around a large duffel bag. You gave in to your curiosity and shifted to face him.
“What are you—“
You were cut off by a large piece of fabric hitting you in the face. You spluttered in shock and pulled the bundled clothing away from your face.
JJ didn’t spare you a glance and leaned back into his seat, “It’s clean, use it to dry off. Unless you enjoy looking like a drowned rat.”
You sent him a scowl, but JJ had busied himself with unlocking the emergency brake. You unraveled the balled-up fabric to reveal a dark green flannel. You cocked a brow at the boy next to you, but he was revving the engine of the truck. You held the flannel away from her body in contemplation.
JJ must have noticed your hesitation.
“I know you’re used to Prada, Montgomery, but you’re gonna have to settle for that.”
Your cheeks flushed as you realized how distasteful your actions must have come across. You shot the boy a challenging glare while simultaneously pulling on the worn flannel. It was much too large for you and you felt like you were swimming in the material, but it was oddly comforting. You reveled in the lingering smell of spearmint, weed, and grass.
“You’re welcome,” JJ grumbled rhetorically while pulling the car out onto the road.
You grunted but didn’t respond. You opted to rest your head against the window instead.
JJ rolled his eyes at your silence, “What, you mute or something?”
You clenched your jaw, “You are such an energy sucker, Maybank.”
The boy only laughed. You watched him flick on the windshield wipers. They moved fast in an attempt to create more visibility and squeaked violently while doing so. It seemed the rain was coming down harder by the second, and the wipers were virtually useless against the downpour. You squinted your eyes to try and get a good view out of the window, but the road was just a wet blur. You weren’t sure how the hell JJ was managing to stay on the road.
Just as the thought crossed your mind, a pair of rapidly approaching bright lights appeared in the window followed by a long honk.
“Shit!”
You screeched and JJ swerved out of the way of the oncoming vehicle. The boy tried to redirect the car into the right lane, but with little to no visibility, the task proved to be quite difficult.
“Are you trying to kill us?” you hissed at him.
His jaw clenched and just when he thought he’d made it back in the right lane, another pair of blinding lights raced towards them. Another loud honk, another terrified scream from you, and another swerve to the side.
“Oh my God, do you even know how to drive? Pull over,” you yelled, gripping onto the handlebar above.
JJ sharply jerked the car to the right until he felt dirt and gravel underneath the wheels. He killed the engine and whipped around to face you with a glare.
“If I’m such a bad driver, then you do it.”
The Pogue unbuckled his seatbelt and moved to climb over the console.
Your eyes widened, “I can’t!”
“What do you mean you can’t?” he deadpanned.
Heat crawled up your neck.
You mumbled back, “I don’t have a license.”
JJ narrowed his eyes with an incredulous expression, “So you’re gonna sit there and bitch about my driving when you don’t even know how?”
“You nearly killed us. Twice,” you bit back with malice.
“I can’t see shit!” JJ waved his arms aggressively.
You redirected your glare from your soulmate to the window ahead which was covered in a cloudy grey from the unceasing downpour. The hard pelts of water and rolling thunder had forced both of you to amplify your voices.
JJ huffed and moved to restart the car, but was stopped by your shrieking voice, “Do you have a death wish? You can’t drive in this!”
He jerked the keys out of the ignition and leaned back in his seat with a groan, “What do you wanna do then? Just sit here?”
You rolled your eyes. You moved to open the car door so you could leave, but JJ’s grumbling voice stopped you.
“If I can’t drive then you can’t walk.”
You huffed but reluctantly leaned back into your seat with an exasperated sigh.
“So, we’re stuck,” JJ deadpanned.
“Astute observation,” you quipped.
The boy muttered something under his breath, but you couldn’t catch it over the raging storm outside. You stared out of the window hopelessly. Your leg shook, and you began popping your knuckles.
JJ jumped slightly beside you and cradled his right hand, “Can you stop fuckin’ doing that?”
You cocked a brow. Your eyes bore through his. “What, this?” you waved your hand in front of his face mockingly before cracking all of the knuckles on your left hand in one swift motion.
“Damn it,” JJ hissed, shaking his hand.
You leaned back in your seat with a satisfied grin. You gazed out of the window to see if the rain had slowed yet, but to no avail. In an attempt to drown out the incessant storm, you leaned forward to fiddle around with the radio.
JJ lazily watched you poke around until you found the ‘ON’ button. You instantly regretted pressing it, though. The volume was loud and with the storm disrupting the connection, ear-piercing white noise filled the car. You yelped and JJ cringed as you scrambled to turn it back off.
You huffed in defeat and leaned back against the seat.
“I’ll sing for you,” JJ smirked.
“Shut up.”
Just as you were about to give up and take a nap, you remembered the CDs inside all of your music books. You hauled your drenched backpack from the ground and unzipped it. You let out a sigh of relief once you saw none of your books were damaged from the water.
JJ watched with curious eyes while you rummaged through the bag. It didn’t take long for you to pull out a CD from the depths of your books. You flipped open the case and gingerly held the disk between your thumb and forefinger. You popped it into the CD player of the old truck and grinned once the introduction to Sonata no. 26 in E-flat Major sounded through the speakers. It was muffled by the rain but made the situation slightly more tolerable.
JJ crinkled his nose and snatched the case from your hands (careful not to accidentally touch them). He held it up to his face and his brows stitched together.
“Beeth Oven? What kind of shit do you listen to?”
You whipped around to face him. Your jaw was dropped and your eyes wide with disbelief.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Beethoven?” you screeched.
The dumb look on his face answered your question.
“Oh my God, how uncultured are you? It’s Beethoven, for Christ’s sake. Everyone has heard of Beethoven. He’s, like, the father of music!”
JJ’s nose twitched and his lips tugged into a frown. His face contorted with concentration while he turned the volume up. He listened in silence to the arpeggios layered with triplets. You knew you shouldn’t stare, yet you couldn’t help but indulge yourself in studying his features. His eyes were trained on the misty windshield, but you could tell he was listening by the way his lips twitched when there was a crescendo and his eyes squinted slightly when there was a ritardando. Both of you relished in the sounds of rain and piano for the next few minutes. A few seconds after the Sonata had ended and another began, the silence was broken.
“Not my usual style, but it’s different, I guess. You ever seen him in concert? Beefoven?”
You went to roll your eyes again, but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at the corners of your lips and the giggle in your throat. He was clueless.
“Beethoven,” you emphasized the correct pronunciation, “is dead. He died in, like, the 1800s.”
“And you still listen to him?”
This time, you did roll your eyes.
“JJ, he’s one of the greatest composers of all time. He’s played all over the world. He wrote some of the most extraordinary orchestra pieces while he was going deaf. He revolutionized the transition from the Classical Era to the Romantic Era—“
You blabbered, but trailed off upon realizing you were losing JJ. His face was twisted with confusion.
“What’s the—“
“Don’t worry about it,” you sighed.
JJ nodded and listened to the muffled music for a minute or so before speaking again.
“So, you play the piano then? That’s why your hands get so achy.”
You gazed lazily at him, “Yeah. That’s why they’re achy.”
JJ nodded. He closed his mouth but re-opened it as more questions came flooding in.
“Do I ever fuck up your playing then? You know, when I beat people up and shit.”
You raised a freshly plucked brow at him, “More like when people beat youup. And yeah,” your voice dripped with annoyance at the reminder of all the times your practices had been interrupted, “You know that incessant swatting that always comes right after? Like someone’s beating you with a book?”
JJ nodded.
“That’s Madame. My teacher. She hates you, by the way.”
The Pogue chuckled softly. Your lips twitched at the comforting sound.
“She thinks you’re un connard,” you giggled.
JJ’s brows pinched together in perplexity.
“What’s a—“
“You don’t wanna know.”
JJ laughed and leaned his head against the window. You watched his eyes drift shut for a moment, relishing in the soothing combination of rain and classical music. You mimicked his actions, and let your mind wander off.
The silence between you two was comfortable, and you hadn’t even realized how quickly the tense situation had defused. You’d barely ever spoken to JJ before, apart from passing insults in years past. But one conversation with him made it feel like you’d known him forever. As much as JJ had a way of winding you up, you were beginning to realize he just as easily put you at ease.
And that realization was unsettling.
You chewed your bottom lip. You were sure JJ could feel it, but didn’t say anything; he must have been deep in thought as well. You stared out at the pelting rain for who-knows-how-long. Each time a song ended, you opened uryo mouth to speak, only to shut it again. Finally, after Sonata No. 21 in C Major, you mustered up the courage.
“You know I still mean what I said last night.”
JJ hummed.
“I know.”
Annoyance pooled in your belly at his unbothered answer.
“You remember what I said, right?”
“Yep.”
It spread from your belly to your chest.
“I don’t do this soulmate thing.”
“Good.”
It traveled up your body and to your head. Your short-temper was getting the best of you.
“God, can you stop doing that?” your voice was gruff with irritation.
“Doing what?” JJ sounded nonchalant as ever as if he was trying to egg you on.
Your voice rose, “Giving me one-word answers! I’m trying to make sure we’re on the same page. I don’t want a soulmate, and I don’t think you get that.”
JJ’s seemingly calm composure snapped. He lifted his head from the window to narrow his eyes at you.
“How dense do you think I am? You made your point loud and clear. Did you not hear me agree with you every single time?”
You rolled your eyes, “One-word affirmations while you’re simultaneously making a move on me cancel each other out.”
Now you were egging him on. And it was working.
JJ let out a dry laugh and inched closer with a vicious fire blazing in his eyes, “This might come as quite the shocker, but the world doesn’t actually revolve around Y/N Montgomery. It might in your little Kook mansion with your pathetic friends, but this is real life, baby, and no one gives a shit.”
You were fuming now. Your lips curled into a sneer, but JJ continued.
“You don’t want a soulmate, and neither do I, princess. And if you did, I’d still dump you on your ass. I don’t want you,” he jabbed a finger towards you, “Clear enough?”
The lingering reminder of the soulmate bond was out the window. In one quick motion, you raised your arm in the air. You swung it towards JJ’s face, but his own arm shot out. He caught your wrist in his hand.
The fire burning in your eyes extended to the rest of your body as a pulse of electricity shot through both of you like the night before. You tried to jerk your arm away, but JJ’s grip only tightened.
Your knees buckled and your body slumped. You tried to hold onto your anger, but the current of euphoria infiltrating your veins was too much. You stared into the eyes that had been plaguing you thoughts all day and night. Last night, they were a calm, ocean blue. Now they were stormy, much like the rain outside, but just as mesmerizing. You were completely helpless, vulnerable to the bond you so detested.
You could only watch as the raging blue inched closer. Were you moving too? As the distance between you decreased, the grip on your wrist tightened, sending more electrifying shocks through you body.
Your gaze shifted from the dark blue of his eyes to the freckles on his nose. And slowly to the pink of his lips.
The hand around your wrist was almost painful at this point. Couldn’t he feel it too? But you were too focused on the taunting millimeters between your lips. And so was he.
They brushed. Just barely. But the bliss was like no other.
Your wrist cried for relief, but you didn’t care.
You knew you’d regret it, but you didn’t care.
In one swift motion, you lurched forward.
Your lips were finally against his. They were chapped and your teeth crashed together and it was messy, but it was perfect. Serotonin pumped through your veins, and for a split second, you didn’t care about the storm, or your parents, or the Juilliard scout.
But as the exhilaration kicked in, so did the screaming pain in your wrist.
You parted her lips to cry out, but JJ had already released you. The two of you jolted away from each other, each rubbing your right wrists. You didn’t dare look at JJ and he didn’t dare look at you.
You felt guilt and embarrassment bubble in the pit of oury stomach. Mostly your own for trying to slap him, but you also felt JJ’s. His guilt was a sharper pain that tugged violently at your heart.
You pulled your legs to your chest and sunk into JJ’s flannel. His guilt on top of yours was overwhelming, but you were too scared to say anything. Instead, you shifted your body so you were facing the side window. You watched droplets that resembled tears roll down, one after another. You realized your Beethoven CD was still playing, but the beautiful sound now left a bitter taste in your mouth. You let her eyes flutter closed in an attempt to shut out your own embarrassment and JJ’s painful guilt.
Neither of you uttered a word. You felt yourself slowly slipping from consciousness, but before you were completely out, you softly pressed your lips against your wrist. The action alleviated both JJ’s pain and your own, and with that, your eyes shut completely.
The feeling of your lips against your wrist sent a shiver up JJ’s spine, but it was warmed his body. A small weight lifted off his shoulders, but he was still left with a twisting in his gut.
This was not how it was supposed to go.
He was just being decent. Giving you a ride home so you wouldn’t have to walk in the rain. JJ was supposed to keep his distance. You were better off without each other. He was notsupposed to kiss you back.
The Pogue didn’t dare glance over at you. He only watched and listened. He listened to the sound of Beethoven begin to drown out the pouring rain. And he watched as the stormy grey of his windshield turned to a blurry, but visible road.
JJ sighed and shifted in his seat. Soft snores sounded beside him, indicating that you had fallen asleep. With the rain ceasing and you sleeping, it was his perfect escape.
JJ lazily revved the engine of the truck. It roared to life, but not enough to wake the you. He maneuvered the vehicle back onto the deserted road and accelerated until he was almost 20 miles over the speed limit. JJ needed to get out of the truck as fast as he could. Drop you off, go to John B’s, down a couple of bottles, find someone to keep him company
He needed to forget.
JJ’s eyes remained trained on the road ahead for the entirety of the 7-minute drive. Beside him, you had begun to stir, but through his tunnel vision, he didn’t notice.
You squinted your eyes groggily. The rumbling underneath and the bumping of your shoulder against the window told you that the rain had stopped and JJ was driving again. You were awake, but your eyes remained shut. You didn’t dare open them until the truck pulled to a jerky stop just minutes later.
Your dull, tired eyes fluttered open. You glanced out the window to catch sight of the mansion you knew so well up ahead. You shifted in your seat so you were sitting upright and reached for your bag. Silently, you swung the bag over your shoulder and popped open the creaking door of the red truck.
JJ didn’t spare you a glance. But you were avoiding his gaze anyways.
There was no goodbye exchanged, no thank you, no see you later. You blindly slammed the door shut behind you and within seconds, the truck had zoomed off.
You were alone. Alone with your frizzy hair and JJ’s flannel. Alone with the impending doom of calling Topper and coming home 2 hours late.
But worst of all, you were alone with a bitter reminder of why you weren’t meant to be with the one person your heart longed for most.
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taglist:
@obxlife@ilovedogs1989@a-golden-sunflower-vol-6@justsomegirlontheinternet@iamaunicorn4704@lopineapples@http-cherries@k-k0129@oopsiedoopsie23@ponyboys-sunsets@obxmxybxnk@coloradogirl07@thelonelyumbrella@danicarosaline@ethereallust@kahnacademyforfun@bxmaaa@deathcompass@planetsarenice-love@duskangxl@arianawills@sweetlysilent@thestorysofargone@stargazingstarkey@yesp0ny@rudyypankow@agirlwholovescoffee@onlygetaway@mitchloveswriting@asapkyndall@hausenfluck@hood-and-horan@outrbanks@velvetxvignette@hariosborn@kt219567
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so sorry for the wait! i was out of town for 5 days and got super behind! hoping to get the next chapter out sooner! let me know what you think so far, i’m basically winging this whole series, so feedback would be greatly appreciated!!
