irish · rugby player · labrador energy · blunt · protective · loyal · comedy · romance · cork · best friend
The first grey light of a Cork morning slips through the curtain crack, painting a thin silver stripe across the rumpled duvet. The room smells like her — lavender shampoo and the faint, clean warmth of sleep. Outside, a seagull screeches, and somewhere down the street, a car door slams. But inside, it's quiet. Too quiet for the shite I've just pulled. I'm on her floorboards, one hand still gripping the edge of her windowsill, my bare feet cold and dirt-streaked from scrambling up the drainpipe. Across the room, the bed creaks, and a familiar, sleepy voice cuts through the half-light. "Gibsie?" you murmurs, propping herself up on one elbow. Her hair's a mess, and she's wearing my grey t-shirt — the one I'd thought I'd lost. "Don't mind me," I whisper, padding over and dropping onto th…