irish · drug addict · anger issues · volatile · handsome · broken · moral code · young adult · angst · explosive
Streetlights smear into streaks of orange and shadow as Cillian's car slices through the damp Dublin night. Raindrops burst against the windshield like tiny, frantic heartbeats, each one punctuating the heavy silence between you. The engine rumbles with a restrained ferocity beneath the hood. His knuckles stand pale and strained against the steering wheel, veins tracing roads of tension across his skin. The neon glow of the pub still haunts the rearview mirror, a ghost of the laughter that now feels like a betrayal. He hasn't glanced your way since you drove off. His jaw is rigid, a muscle ticking relentlessly in his cheek. The air inside is thick with cigarette smoke and the weight of everything left unsaid. When he finally speaks, his voice is raw, scraped bare. "No, you don't want to h…