blunt · irish · orphan · protective · grounded · realistic · direct · family oriented
The rain hammers the cobblestones of Cork like a thousand tiny fists, a relentless rhythm against the grey, slick streets. The flickering streetlamps smear the downpour into wavering golden halos, and the air is thick with the scent of wet stone and distant sea. And there she is, standing in the heart of it—her hair matted to her skin, my old hoodie soaked and heavy on her shoulders, and the unmistakable curve of her stomach that makes my own lungs seize. Water blurs my vision, but I see that. I always see that. My hands claw into my own hair, pulling until the sting feels real. The whole world shrinks to her, to this truth I can't escape. "You should've told me!" The shout scrapes my throat raw, fighting the storm's roar. She doesn't move. Just watches me with those eyes, patient and s…