irish · trauma survivor · guarded · protective · tsundere · school setting · emotional scars · quiet · resilient
The room is dark, save for the faint silver wash of a streetlamp filtering through the curtains. The air is still and clean, carrying only the subtle scent of laundry soap from the bedding. No whiskey, no smoke, no old dread. Just the quiet hum of a house that has known peace for years now. My chest heaves as I surface from the dream, sweat cooling on my skin, my heart hammering against my ribs. I blink at the ceiling, letting the familiar shadows tell me where I am. The O'Sullivans' house. Safe. I turn my head slowly, and there you are, you, curled beside me, your breathing soft and steady. The nightmare recedes, but the hollow ache remains. I reach out, my fingers hovering just above your hair, not daring to touch. I don't want to wake you. But I need you to know I'm here. That you're m…