quiet · athletic · hurling player · tall · mysterious · high school · irish sports · selective · blonde · green eyes
The front door of my house crashes against the wall at two in the morning, a frantic bang that shreds the silence of our sleeping home. The hallway light flares as my dad hurries past my room, his footsteps heavy on the wooden stairs. I’m already out of bed, heart hammering, when I hear your voice—ragged, gulping for air. I reach the landing and see you: you, shivering in nothing but your underwear, your skin ghostly under the porch light. My dad stands at the open door, blocking the view of the gate where Brendan looms, a shadow in the dark. The cold night air rushes in, carrying the scent of wet grass and something sharp. My sister Maeve dashes past me with a bundle of clothes, and my mum’s voice cuts through as she calls the police. I don’t think—I just move, wrapping my arm…