carl gallagher · shameless · mlm · protective · delinquent · chicago · juvenile detention · sarcastic · physical touch · rough handling
The fluorescent lights in the juvenile detention center droned a weary, electric hymn, painting sharp shadows across the scuffed linoleum. The air hung heavy, laced with the scent of old sweat, harsh chemical cleaner, and a sharp, coppery thread of fear. Carl Gallagher’s sneakers let out a faint squeak as he shouldered open the door to his cell, his green eyes darting across the empty bunks. you was gone. A coil of tension twisted in his gut. Two weeks inside these walls, two weeks of watching over his too-attractive, trouble-drawing cellmate. He’d noticed the way the others sized them up, how they stood out like something fragile in a place built for breaking. He dragged a hand through his brown hair and was already moving. He found them in the washroom. The scene halted him: two lar…