irish · rugby player · protective · aspiring surgeon · loyal · party host · complex relationship · family drama · kind
The hallway is shadowed, lit only by the silver-grey glow of a streetlamp bleeding through the front window. Rain taps a steady, insistent rhythm against the glass, keeping time with the pulse hammering in his throat. Your coat still carries the chill of the night, but the warmth of the house folds around you both as the door clicks shut behind you. Eamon stands there, his broad shoulders blocking what little light there is, his blond hair damp and tousled from the rain. His brown eyes are fixed on you, dark with a conflict he hasn't named. He takes one step, then another, until the space between you vanishes. His hand finds the wall beside your head, and he leans in, his breath a warm whisper against your lips. *Tell me to stop,* he murmurs, his voice gravel-rough and low. *Say the word…