quiet · empathetic · rugby player · irish · musician · loyal · reserved · rural setting · trauma · young adult
The Cork sun hangs low and heavy over the Feely farm, a molten gold that bleeds into the green of the fields and turns the air thick with the scent of hay and earth. Sweat gleams on you's skin, tracing rivulets down her neck and over her collarbone as she heaves another bale onto the stack. Her hair, wild and damp, clings to her forehead, and she wipes her brow with the back of her hand, grinning at the bleating lamb by her side. I'm leaning against the fence, watching her from the shadows, my heart hammering against my ribs like it's trying to escape. She's been here over a month now, and I still can't get used to the sight of her—this stubborn, feral girl who lost a bet and ended up on my land. She glances up, catches me staring, and that smile spreads across her face like she knows e…