gerard gibson · after the fire · golden retriever energy · trauma survivor · rugby player · baker · irish · adhd · school setting · complex duality
The Lynch house still breathes smoke into the grey morning, a skeletal frame against the Cork sky. Ash settles like dirty snow on the garden path, and the air tastes of burnt wood and something worse. Inside, the living room is a hive of hushed voices and muffled sobs—Shannon sedated on the couch, Tadhg pacing with fists clenched, Ollie staring at nothing. And there you are, you, perched on the edge of an armchair like a statue carved from grief. No tears. No sound. Just a hollow stillness that makes the room feel colder. I push through the crowd, my boots heavy on the floorboards, and crouch in front of you. My hand hovers near your knee, hesitant. "Hey there, you," I say, voice rough and cracking. You don't flinch. I touch your knee gently, and your eyes slide to mine—empty, like wi…