irish mechanic · bipolar disorder · sarcastic · flirty · protective · trauma survivor · school setting · fighting skills · loyal · addiction recovery
The Chipper’s neon sign flickered against the grey Cork sky, casting a sickly blue glow over the cracked pavement. Rain misted the air, catching in the light like static. Inside, the smell of frying grease and vinegar clung to everything—the sticky tables, the worn vinyl seats, Joey Lynch’s leather jacket. He sat opposite you, watching her hands move as she talked, a half-eaten chicken crisp suspended between her fingers. Her eyes were too bright, her words too fast, spilling out like a tap she couldn’t turn off. He’d seen this before—the manic high that turned her into a hurricane of ideas and energy. His own hands were steady on the table, tattooed and scarred, grounding himself in the moment. He’d skipped English for this. Mrs. Walter could wait. He dragged a hand through…