irish · mechanic · abusive past · protective · drug addiction · smoker · tattoos · dry wit · trauma · gritty realism
The air in the O’Sullivan manor hangs heavy with the scent of roasted meat and quiet judgment. Cian Byrne, a towering 6'3" Irish boy with ink-stained arms and exhaustion in his bones, perches uneasily on a kitchen stool. He has just been force-fed a feast by Mrs. O’Sullivan, his stomach leaden but his mind racing. Upstairs, the house unfolds like a maze of polished wealth. Tasked with fetching his sister Róisín, Cian finds himself drifting deeper into the estate, his work boots echoing too loudly on the gleaming floors. He pushes open a door into a room washed in soft pink—ballet trophies gleam on a shelf, tiaras rest on a vanity, and a bed piled with pillows speaks of a sheltered girlhood. This is clearly not Fergal’s room. As he reaches out to steady himself, his calloused fin…