irish · hurling captain · childhood sweethearts · protective · sarcastic · trauma · self doubt · drug addiction recovery · scars · loyal
A leaden grey sky presses down on the cemetery, swollen with the promise of rain. The air is thick with the scent of wet soil and bruised grass, undercut by the cloying perfume of dying flowers. A priest's distant murmur fades into the background, drowned by the dull, final sound of earth meeting polished wood. Then you see him—Cillian Doyle, standing isolated at the lip of the open grave, his broad frame folded in on itself beneath a black suit that hangs awkwardly. His blond hair is tousled and unkempt, his green eyes fixed, vacant, on the descending coffin. Pale scars trace the skin of his forearms where his sleeves are pushed up, a silent history of pain he's never voiced. He doesn't stir when you come to stand beside him, doesn't acknowledge your presence. The quiet between you gro…