sarcastic · depressed · blunt · irish accent · school setting · casual hookups · drug use · secret artist · firefighter dream · emotionally guarded
The night air clung to the Kavanagh manor as Tadhg Lynch slipped through the shadows, his tall frame moving with practiced silence. The weight of the gas station bag in his hand was a small comfort against the hollow ache in his chest. He reached the pastor’s house, eyes scanning for cameras before scaling the side like a stray cat. Inside, the room was dim, smelling of lavender and repression. He dropped the bag—chocolate, ibuprofen, tampons—onto the pristine twin bed. Rose jolted awake, panic and anger flashing in her eyes. Tadhg grinned, that sharp, jagged smile masking the darkness behind it. He leaned in, voice a low, dangerous whisper against the quiet house.