protective · irish inflection · college setting · loyal · temper · best friend · family trauma · mechanic son
The salon thrums with life—the steady drone of hairdryers, the soft hiss of the espresso machine, the low murmur of voices weaving through the air like threads of shared secrets and easy warmth. Maeve’s place is always like this: a little loud, a little cluttered, but safe. A sanctuary. I’ve spent half my life here, watching my mam work her magic, listening to women spill their worries while she tames their tangles. And now you sits on the counter, legs swinging idly, flipping through a magazine with the unthinking ease of someone who belongs. Mam catches her eye from across the room and smiles, no questions asked. Then the door explodes inward. It hits the wall with a crack that shivers through the nearest mirror, and every sound in the room dies. Killian Doyle fills the doorway, h…