#aka john is a creep and ur flattered by the only attention you’ve ever received

[moondirti]

wip wednesday except i haven’t written for this yet it’s just been plaguing me for a week now

spending your summers in a quaint coastal town, probably somewhere in the west. morning swims in a cool inlet beach, the sand sizzling underfoot. biking home in just your cover-up to wash up, before passing by a friends’ for lunch and white wine.

they’re summers of youth, of compromising luxury for memories you’ll be telling your kids. the sun-kissed days are all what get you through the college academic year sometimes, and you wouldn’t give them up for anything. or so you think–

because your bike breaks down near a lighthouse, and a man comes out to help. you know of him, briefly, the knowledge limited to the rumours that drift about town. just showed up one day. probably running away from something, taking up a job so archaic. doesn’t want to talk to anyone. reclusive. paranoid.

but he’s nice, actually. offers to fix up your chain while you busy yourself with a bowl of cherries on ice. handsome too, if you can get past the carpet of hair laid over every inch of exposed skin. none of the fumbling boys your age match it, and it’s an acquired taste you manage after an hour in his company, answering his intrusive questions with burning cheeks

in reality, john price was put there after a mission gone horribly wrong. the higher-ups said ocean exposure and routine would be good for him after what he’s been put through, like he’s a victorian woman in hysterics and not a military captain capable of dealing with his own shit.

but as you – young, salt-crusted sharkbait – are served to his front door on a silver platter, dressed in nothing but a skimpy bikini and denim shorts – he figures what he really needs is to keep you all to himself, curbing your last summer before graduation to one of carnality and, eventual, heartbreak