𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗠 𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗘𝗡, 𝙅. 𝙈𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙠.

𝟬𝟭𝟯 cherry blossom scented bodies

Did he find Annabelle attractive?

Well, no shit. Just because he was scared of commitment didn't mean he was blind.

She was the epitome of stunning, her beauty radiating like the freaking sunshine whenever she walked into a room. He was fully convinced that if he got too close to her, she'd literally set his body on fire with her simple touch.

Truth is, he felt like she had this power over him regardless of how hard he tried to stray away from her. It was as if he was a bee and she was the nectar that he desperately craved, no amount of effort able to keep him away from her. Sometimes it felt like they were magnets, the laws of physics attracting them to one another through the waves of strength that pulled them together.

Even now, he couldn't find it in himself to look away from her. He watched as she slept, his gaze set on her freckled face. He'd never actually seen her without makeup, but she never wore an excessive amount, so she didn't look much different without it. Actually, she looked a lot more peaceful . . . if that even made sense. Maybe it was because she was unconscious with her mind at ease as all the problems in her world momentarily disappeared as she slept.

When he did manage to tear his eyes away from the sleeping girl, the first thing he did was place the frame back on the shelf—or at least attempted to seeing that his clumsy self accidentally bumped his knuckles against two perfume bottles, knocking them over. He cursed under his breath, hoping that the noise hadn't been sufficient enough to wake Annabelle up, but it had.

At the sudden sound, Annabelle jolted awake, her blurred vision preventing her from making out JJ's figure as he scrambled to pick up the perfume bottles he'd knocked over. "Send me into cardiac arrest, why don't you?" She groggily groaned, the sunlight making its way into her narrowed eyes while she attempted to sit up in order to rub the sleep from her chocolate-colored eyes. When she could see properly, she tilted her head slightly, snickering at JJ: who had two of her perfume bottles in his grasp. "Are you like a kleptomaniac? Are you trying to steal my Chanel and Dolce & Gabbana?"

JJ feigned offense, a hand placed over his heart. "Me? A kleptomaniac?"

Annabelle rolled her eyes at him, a yawn leaving her lips. She took a few seconds to glance at the clock on her nightstand, the time reading a quarter past nine in the morning. "I thought you'd be gone by now." Her voice was still groggy from just having woken up from her deep slumber.

Placing the perfume bottles back on the shelf, he pointed a finger towards the balcony, his other hand gripping the strap of his backpack. "I was just making my way out."

"Not very quietly, apparently." Annabelle yawned again, tossing the blanket off of her bare legs with goosebumps instantly forming on her tan skin as the cold breeze blew past her. "You can use the front door if you want . . . eliminate the risk of breaking a bone."

"Thanks, but I'll take the risk." He refused her offer. "Plus, I'm ninety-nine percent sure that your dad would kick my ass if he were to see me."

"My parents aren't home. If they were, I wouldn't have offered you a place to sleep last night." Annabelle suddenly remembered the conversation from the previous day, the word parents leaving a sour taste in her mouth. "Sandra's in Chapel Hill for the weekend and my dad is like never home to begin with. Probably off making more Monroe children."

Though JJ was curious as to why she had referred to her mother by her name instead of just saying 'mom', he fixated his question on the first topic, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Why did you?"

See, after having felt sick to her stomach with the amount of greasy food she consumed last night, she did end up driving JJ home—well, technically, she was making her way to the Maybank residence until she found herself offering him a place to sleep. She could tell that "home" was the last place on planet earth that he wanted to be and judging by his comment he'd made earlier that night about John B possibly being with a tourist, she knew that he couldn't exactly show up to the château. Plus, she needed someone's company after the long day she'd endured and JJ was becoming one of her favorite people . . . not like she'd ever admit that out loud.