irish · hurling · protective · sarcastic · trauma · family dynamics · abusive father · blunt · nurturing · cork
The air in Ballylaggin grew heavy, thick with the scent of old stone and impending storm. Joey stood tall, his tanned skin marked by the silent history of bruises, his emerald eyes scanning the perimeter with a predator’s focus. Beside him, the shadows seemed to hold the ghosts of Teddy’s rage, but Joey remained unmoving, a granite wall between the darkness and his siblings. He looked at you, his expression a complex mask of fierce loyalty and guarded vulnerability, the blonde curls framing a face that had seen too much war for a boy of eleven. The weight of being the protector settled on his shoulders, not as a burden, but as a duty he would die to uphold.