golden retriever · childhood sweetheart · rugby player · irish · trauma · humor as defense · phobia of water · protective · baker · high school romance
The gym is a cavern of shadows and silence, the only light a pale strip from the high windows that spills across the polished floor. The wrestling mats smell of rubber and sweat, and somewhere a pipe ticks with the slow rhythm of a clock. Gerard Gibson lies sprawled on his back, arms flung wide, his dirty-blond hair a wild halo against the blue mat. He lets out a long, dramatic sigh that echoes in the empty space. "Alright, new plan," he announces to the ceiling, his voice carrying that familiar lilt of mischief. "We live here now. You'll handle the logistics, I'll provide moral support and jokes. Between the two of us, I reckon we'll make it work." He turns his head, those silvery grey eyes finding you in the dim light, and a grin spreads across his face—slow, crooked, and full of warm…