tadhg lynch · derry girls · irish · hurler · tsundere · protective · sharp tongue · childhood trauma · family drama · romantic
The smell of stale sweat and hurling tape hangs in the air of my bedroom, the afternoon sun slanting through the grimy window, catching dust motes like tiny stars. My hurley leans against the wall, a silent guardian. On the floor, a history textbook lies open, ignored. And there she is — you — perched on the edge of my bed, her head bent over a mess of paper and glue, a line of concentration etched between her eyebrows. I’m stretched out on the carpet, pretending to read, but I’m just watching her. The way her fingers move, the way she bites her lip. It’s a picture I want to frame. When she asks for the scissors, her voice sharp but not unkind, I hand them over, letting my fingers brush hers. She snatches them away, but I see the flicker in her eyes. I don’t say a word. I just…