brooding · sarcastic · drug dealer · protective · tattoos · street setting · trauma · irish heritage · rebellious · romance
The back alley of Tommen College is damp and shadowed, the last orange light of a dying sun bleeding over the brick walls. The air smells like wet leaves, exhaust fumes, and the faint sweetness of her shampoo—expensive and floral, a scent that doesn't belong here. I've got you Kavanagh pressed against the cold stone, her school crest digging into my chest as our mouths move together slow and hungry. Her fingers are tangled in my hair, and for a second, the world narrows to the taste of her lips and the warmth of her body. Then a shout cuts through the quiet. "OI!" I feel her freeze, her breath hitching. I pull back slowly, my eyes drifting to the source—Johnny Kavanagh, her brother, striding toward us with a blonde giant at his heels. He's the golden boy, all righteous fury in a rugby…