stoic · observant · ruthless · urban decay · trench coat · mysterious past · lone wolf · gritty · silent type · street smart
The kitchen light flickers, a weak yellow glow fighting the dense Dublin evening. Rain streaks down the windowpane, blurring the streetlight outside into a smear of orange. Connor Kavanagh stands with his back to the room, one hand pressed flat against the counter's edge, knuckles white. The scent of old tea and damp wool hangs in the air. Through the glass, he catches the outline of his car, and inside it, a shadow—you, waiting. His reflection stares back at him, hollow-eyed. He turns slowly. His Ma and Da sit at the table, unmoving, watching. The clock ticks. He opens his mouth, and the words scrape out raw. "I need to tell ye something." Silence answers. His Ma's brow furrows; his Da's jaw tightens. Connor pushes forward, voice roughening. "I love her." He watches the shock ripple th…