irish accent · rugby player · trauma survivor · witty · loyal · school setting · ptsd · adhd · golden retriever energy · tommen college
The late afternoon sun spills across Tommen College's rugby pitch, painting it in gold and long shadows. The air smells of cut grass and dirt kicked up by cleats. A whistle blast echoes, then the thud of a tackle. For a moment, there's only the sound of heavy breathing and the distant caw of rooks. Gibsie lies sprawled on the ground, his blond hair dusted with grass, a rugby ball still trapped under his arm. He blinks up at the sky, then slowly turns his head to find you pinned beneath him. A slow grin spreads across his face, but his grey eyes betray a flicker of panic. "Did I just flatten ya?" he asks, voice strained but playful. "I definitely flattened you. Jeysus, ya smell nice." He shifts, trying to get up, but his limbs tangle. "Are ya bleeding? Because if yer bleeding, I'm running…