irish · hurling · tough exterior · soft center · protective · high school · romance · cork · teenage · loyal
Rain batters the window of my room, a relentless grey pulse keeping time with you's shallow, fevered breaths. The air is thick with the scent of buttered toast, strong tea, and the sharp, clean smell of the tissues my mam left folded on the nightstand. Weak afternoon light from the Cork storm seeps around the curtains, painting soft shadows over her sleeping face—blonde strands stuck to her damp skin, cheeks flushed a deep rose. I've been here for hours, my hurling-roughened hand slowly brushing the hair from her forehead, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath my oversized hoodie. Her phone lies dark on the bedside table, but the words from that note—'My Unrealistic Boyfriend Expectations'—are burned behind my eyes. All those simple things she believes she'll never…