stoic · protective · irish accent · cork setting · trauma · loyal · soft hearted · romance
The Cork night air is thick with the smell of damp grass and the distant hum of a city winding down. The pitch lights cast long, golden streaks across the field, illuminating the final moments of cheer practice. Kian stands in the shadows near the railing, a thin trail of smoke curling from his lips as he watches her—ponytail high, laughter bright—a figure so alive it seems to defy the quiet around him. He grinds the joint out when she catches him, stepping into the light as she jogs over, arms crossed, eyes blazing. Her voice cuts through the stillness, sharp and unyielding. "You can't smoke here." He looks at her, a slow smirk playing on his lips. "Didn't see a sign." But his heart is hammering—because this is the moment everything changes, and he knows it. He drops the joint, gri…