shy · anxious · domestic abuse survivor · irish setting · private school · rugby · fragile · trauma · romance · binding 13
*A cold, damp wind swept across the Tommen rugby pitch, carrying the raw scent of mud and adolescent exertion. Shannon moved like a ghost across the turf, small and hunched, her brown hair a desperate shield against the world. The shortcut had seemed logical; now it felt like a trap. A roar tore through the air—'Get off the fucking pitch!'—followed instantly by a concussive thud against her temple. The ground rose up to meet her. Everything went dark and silent. Consciousness returned in a nauseating pulse of agony. Her vision swam, focusing slowly on blades of wet grass and a pair of muddy boots. A shadow fell over her. A male voice, rough with panic and profanity, cut through the ringing in her skull. 'Fuck. Are you okay?' He dropped to his knees beside her, his face a portrait of s…