The chateau was pitch black and the air was thick and hot, from the lack of electricity available on The Cut. It was a sad truth, really, because tomorrow was Midsummers, and while the entirety of Figure Eight was primping and prepping for 'the party of the summer', those at The Cut would be spending another night with no electricity.
Katherine used her phone flashlight to look around for any one single candle to use as a light source. "Does John B even own a candle?" Her light fell to the floor, as she kicked empty beer cans and chip bags out of her way. "Or a trash can?"
"A candle? Probably not. The trash can..." he paused, appearing to actually be thinking about that one. "Now that you mention it, I don't think I've ever seen one."
Katherine shook her head and sat next to him with a bottle of vodka that had managed to acquire dust and an almost empty roll of paper towels. "I'm going to take that dude household shopping for his birthday," she muttered, placing her phone in JJ's hand. "I need you to hold the light, so I can see what I'm doing."
"Do you know what you're doing?"
"I've watched every episode of Grey's Anatomy," she scoffed. "I'm practically a surgeon." JJ's eyes widened, clearly unconvinced. "Chill out, JJ, I'm not cutting you open. I'm cleaning your freaking cuts."
She raised his shirt to the top of his ribs, where she'd spotted a blood stain and saw that one of Rafe's rings nicked him pretty good. "If you wanted me to get undressed, all you had to do was ask." A smirk appeared on his face, which made it all the more joyful for Katherine to dab the cut with the alcohol without warning and hearing him screech like a girl. He jumped backwards, away from her touch and looked at her bewildered. "What the hell was that!"
Katherine pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers. "Don't be such a baby!"
"I'm not—that shit hurt," he whined. He didn't usually clean his wounds after a fight, mainly because he didn't have anyone at home that actually gave a damn and asking his friends to patch up his booboos didn't sit well with JJ. But he had to admit...having someone care enough to take care of him was nice. "Okay, fine, I'm sorry."
She stood up and he frowned, assuming she'd just given up altogether. Instead, she pointed to the middle of the couch. "Sit." She left no room for argument, so he moved. "I don't want to hear shit about this, Maybank," she muttered.
He was about to ask her to elaborate, but he no longer needed to when she straddled his lap. He swallowed thickly, nodding his head. He let his cerulean gaze focus on the darkness of the ceiling, to avoid looking at the girl in his lap.
She raised his shirt up again and had him hold the fabric up in the hand that wasn't holding the flashlight. It was impossible to miss the bruises that were scattered on his torso—most of which looked rather old, with a few exceptions thanks to tonight's escapades. "You get into fights a lot?" Her eyes were trained on the paper towel that she poured vodka on, accidentally spilling some on his pants. "Sorry," she muttered her apology.
JJ shrugged, wincing slightly as she dabbed the paper towel against the blood. "I mean, not really." He was oblivious to the array of bruises she was referencing. "Guess I've been in more, lately."
Katherine frowned but didn't say anything, as she finished cleaning the blood away from the cut. "I'm sorry." Her voice was soft.
Only then did JJ tear his gaze from the ceiling to look at her with furrowed brows. "Hey, don't apologize," he insisted. "For any of it. I wouldn't do anything different, except maybe pulling the plug out of Topper's boat myself. Now Pope's all in his head because of it."
Katherine pulled his shirt from his grip, letting it fall back over his torso. She opted to ignore his comment about sinking Topper's boat, not wanting to get into a debate about being the bigger person. Instead, she grabbed JJ's hand that was still being her flashlight holder, and brought the light closer to his face as she leaned in closer to inspect his lip.
Their closeness made JJ's throat run dry and he reverted back to staring upwards. Only then did she notice JJ's gaze fixated on the ceiling. She tilted her head back, too. "What are you looking at?"
JJ cleared his throat. "You're, um, sitting on my lap and your face is like, an inch away from mine," he explained. "I'm trying to think about anything other than what I'm trying to not think about."
Katherine felt her face grow even warmer than it already was. "Oh," was all she could muster, because she, too, was growing aware of their close proximity. She started to try and adjust their positioning, but his hand gripped her waist.
"That's what you should not do, right now," he laughed dryly, still refusing to look at her.
She nodded, not that he could see her, and focused on the task at hand—or at least, she tried to. Her hands were shaky and she poured a little bit too much vodka on the paper towel, but she didn't apologize that time. She leaned forward again and tilted his head to the side, her eyes drawing to where his Adams apple bobbed nervously.
Katherine was doing her best to focus on anything other than the way her skin burned under JJ's touch on her waist, contrasting with the cool metal of the rings he wore.
Slowly, the paper towel absorbed the excess blood, only leaving a small cut in its wake.
It couldn't have been at better timing, because the flashlight flicked off, signaling that her phone had died, leaving them there in the darkness once again.
Katherine let her hands fall from his face and rest on his biceps. "Alright, you're as good as new." She kept her voice soft, as though she was going to disturb the peaceful silence around them. "I should probably get going." Neither of them made a move, except JJ who tilted his head down to look at her, finally. He was able to make out all of her features, thanks to the light of the moon infiltrating through the blinds behind him.
"Could you stay...for a little while?"
Katherine's heart sank into her stomach. She had been beginning to believe that JJ was different than any of the guys she surrounded herself with, but the question made her begin to wonder. They never wanted to just hang. There were always stipulations. "JJ, I don't think that would be a good idea," she murmured. "I'm sorry if you think I'm a prude, or—."
JJ was quick to cut her off, seeing where she was going with the conversation. "No, I-I didn't mean for sex, Kat," he objected. "I just meant to hang out, that's it." He reached up to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. "Here, come on." He lifted her off of his lap and sat her next to him for a brief moment, before standing up and grabbing her hand in his. He led her outside and allowed the screen door to slam shut behind them.
Katherine raised an eyebrow when he stopped at the hammock and released her hand. He plopped down onto it and almost flipped out of it backwards and she didn't have time to stifle the laugh that fell from her lips. Instead, she pursed her lips into a straight line to better mask it.
He attempted a glare up at her, but it cracked when he couldn't help but grin at her. He outstretched his hand towards her and she glanced down at it, unsure of what to make of it all. Finally, she grabbed it and allowed herself to be pulled next to him on the hammock with one of his arms wrapped around her.
There was no doubt in Katherine's mind that JJ could feel the drumming of her heart against his side. She allowed her arm to rest on his torso, next to his free hand and fixated her eyes on the bark of the tree they were attached to.
"Thank you." JJ's words broke the silence and made Katherine look up at him, perplexed. "For actually caring."
His words were simple, but Katherine could tell that it wasn't a normal thing for him, which surprised her even further. JJ Maybank really was the purest soul she'd probably ever encountered and would ever encounter. He didn't make the best decisions, but she couldn't dare foster a judgement of him when she had no idea what it was like to live on The Cut.
JJ was infamous in Figure Eight, because everyone knew his deadbeat dad, Luke Maybank. They had predetermined JJ's future based on his father and it wasn't fair. Katherine had gotten to know the real JJ—the one that stands up for the people he cares about, and the one that never backs down, even if it means getting his ass kicked.
Katherine looked out towards the marsh and, even though it wasn't the beach, she felt peace flood over her. She moved her hand closer to JJ's and wordlessly intertwined their fingers.
With his other hand, his thumb traced patterns along her arm. If you'd asked him two weeks ago if he ever thought he'd be laying in a hammock holding Katherine Scott, he probably would have punched you in the face for asking such a stupid question. Not because Katherine was a Kook, though that was definitely a factor, but because he'd thought her to be the definition of perfection. Perfect life. Perfect car. Perfect smile... perfect eyes... perfect body. He had to clear his throat to force the thoughts out of his mind.
"So I finally started reading my mom's journal," she hummed. "That, by the way, she definitely knows I stole."
JJ's eyebrows raised. "W-what did you find out?" He hadn't pushed her for information on the journal, especially since the search and seize mission that the Pogues had gone on had made the hunt for gold seem pointless.
"Not a lot of it made sense," she admitted. "Mentions about needing access to the archives at Chapel Hill. Her map that she has of Tannyhill and a lot about Denmark Tanny."
JJ raised an eyebrow. "Who?"
Katherine shrugged. "Apparently he was the sole survivor from the Royal Merchant. That was all I had a chance to read."
It was becoming evident to JJ that his draw of attraction to her was becoming more about her and less about what her mother knew about the gold, because he could've asked her to go home and find out more about the Denmark Tanny guy, but he didn't want her to go.
He rested his head on hers and his heart almost stopped when she nestled closer into his body. Maybe she felt the same.
Katherine's eyes fluttered open against the harsh, unfiltered sunlight. Disoriented from sleep, she was trying to process why she was outside and when she realized, she shot upright.
Her abrupt movement caused JJ to stir as well, but he was a lot slower to process. "Shit," she hissed. "JJ, I've gotta go. What time is it?"
JJ yawned, stretching out his arm that Katherine had been sleeping on, before checking his watch. "It's almost eight." His voice was raspy from sleep. "What's the rush?"
"I've got Midsummers today," she explained. "I was supposed to be staying at Sarah's last night. My phone is dead, so nobody can reach me—they probably think I'm dead. I smell like sweat and outdoors."
JJ followed after her, as she walked towards her car. "Can't you just skip it," he whined.
Katherine laughed humorlessly at his question. "My dad would kill me." She turned on her heels to look at JJ again, almost amused at the disappointment on his face. "Don't get your ass kicked before I see you again, okay?" She gave him a small smile, before ducking into her car.
Little did she know, a storm was headed for JJ.