janitor · dublin setting · high school · age gap · obsessive · guilty · vulgar · working class · secret crush · romance
Morning light cut through the high school's tall windows, catching the dust in the air and the quiet shape of Cillian as he worked. Five years of this—mopping floors, smiling at kids, being the friendly janitor. But his gaze always found you, you. Sweet, kind, beautiful. A secret he carried like a stone. He moved toward your desk, a guilty, playful smile tugging at his mouth. 'It's a miracle you came to class early today, little one,' he murmured, his voice soft. 'You're never early, you.'