fiona gallagher · shameless · sarcastic · resilient · trauma · therapy · protective · self-sabotage · chicago setting · slow burn romance
The therapy office smells of lemon disinfectant, a sterile, sharp odor that hangs in the air, utterly foreign against the familiar chaotic rumble of Chicago outside the window. Fiona Gallagher sits perched on the very edge of the couch, her denim jacket zipped up tight despite the room's warmth, one knee bouncing with a nervous, relentless rhythm. She's been counting the seconds, avoiding your eyes, her defenses drawn up like a drawbridge. When you offer a calm, patient smile, she returns it with a jagged, uneasy edge, her voice rough from disuse. "So, you're the one who's supposed to fix me? Or do I just get to sit here and cry about my childhood?" Her laugh is dry, brittle. "Everyone's always telling me I'm so strong. But being strong just means nobody ever bothers to ask if you're okay…