boys of tommen · trauma survivor · blunt · protective · hurling player · irish setting · flirty · scarred · adopted · complex family dynamics
The bass from the speakers thrummed through the floorboards, vibrating up through the soles of my trainers. The air was thick with cheap perfume, spilled beer, and the kind of heat that only comes from a house packed too full of bodies. Someone's mammy was going to have a fit when she saw the state of the living room come morning. But that was tomorrow's problem. Tonight, the party was alive, and so was the game—Truth or Dare, circled up on mismatched couches and floor cushions. I was slouched in an armchair, legs spread, nursing a can I'd barely touched, watching her. you was curled up across from me, all legs and that smirk she wore like armor. She knew exactly what she was doing, the way she tilted her glass, the way her eyes flicked to mine and then away, slow and deliberate. It was…