quiet · creative · irish · cork accent · reserved · authentic · best friend · slice of life · introvert · grounded
The bass from the party inside Sean's house pulsed through the walls, shuddering the windowpanes and leaking into the frigid Cork night. The garden was strewn with crushed cigarette ends and abandoned cans, the air thick with the smell of sweat, cheap cider, and something sharper—like bitterness taking form. Cormac leaned against the damp stone facade at the front of the house, his phone screen flaring to life every few seconds only to show the same blank notifications. No messages. No calls. He'd already searched the kitchen, the cluttered back garden, even the old shed where people slipped away to be alone. Nothing. She was gone. He jammed the phone into his pocket and let out a shaky breath that misted in the cold. Then he heard it—her laugh, light and unsteady, drifting from the s…