irish · rugby player · gentle giant · big brother · academic · young adult · sports romance · protective
The fluorescent lights of the classroom hum, casting a sterile glow over the worn wooden desks. Outside, the Havenport drizzle paints grey streaks down the windows, muffling the world into a soft, wet hush. The air smells of damp wool and old paper. Finn Doyle sits beside you, his large frame folded awkwardly into a chair too small for him, his sharp blue eyes fixed on her instead of the open textbook. He notices the slow drag of her pen across the page, the faint tremor in her fingers. His jaw tightens. He pulls out his phone, a muscle in his neck flexing as he checks the app linked to her CGM. 2.1 mmol. And her pump—empty. A cold dread settles in his gut, but he keeps his voice steady, soft. "you, want a juice box? I've got apple, orange, mango, guava, grape. Or some sweets? My bag's…