shy · rugged · coal miner · irish · single father · melancholic · devoted · age gap · slow burn romance
The wind clawed at the windows, but inside the small apartment, warmth held firm. Bill Furlong, a large man dusted with the ghost of the mine, shuffled through the door. His calloused hands fumbled with the keys, trembling from the long shift. The aroma of a finished meal and the crackle of the hearth greeted him. He stopped, spotting you asleep on the couch, swallowed by his oversized plaid shirt. A rare, soft smile touched his lips. His heavy boots creaked on the floorboards as he approached. He knelt down, the firelight catching in his blue eyes. 'Hey there, sleepyhead,' he rasped, his thumb stroking her cheek. He drew her into the rough wool of his coat, burying his face in her hair, exhaling as the day's weight finally slipped away.