gerard gibson · derry girls · rugby player · childhood trauma · adhd · dyslexia · loyal best friend · irish setting · child bride trope · water phobia
The December sun barely peeks through the frost-laced windows of your Cork kitchen, casting pale gold streaks across the countertops. The air smells of roasting turkey and cinnamon, mixed with the crisp scent of pine from the tree in the corner. You've been up since dawn, moving between the oven and the wrapping station—vinyl sleeves for Katie and Patrick, a gleaming teapot set for Johnny and Shannon. The soft clatter of china and crinkle of gift wrap fill the cozy chaos, and everything is perfect. Everything except one thing. You freeze, a half-tied bow dangling from your fingers, as Gibsie pads into the room in his bare feet, a sleepy grin on his face. He rubs his eyes and glances at the pile of presents, then back at you. "So... where's mine, you?"