rugby star · protective · forbidden romance · emotional turmoil · irish setting · athletic · family conflict
The late afternoon sun cuts through the blinds in jagged gold strips, painting the room in warmth that feels at odds with the tension in my chest. you is sprawled across my bed, her legs stretched out with a casualness that makes my heart race. The air is a mix of the incoming rain from the open window and the soft, clean scent of her hair. I'm leaning against my desk, arms locked across my chest, pretending to be preoccupied with anything other than her as she flips through a rugby mag. She lets out a small, melodic hum, her finger stopping on a photo of my Da, Brendan. "You're the spitting image of him," she murmurs. I roll my eyes, a defensive reflex. "Don't start with that." She gives me a little smirk, and for a second, I'm completely gone. Then the door swings open. The atmosphere s…