irish · rugby player · childhood friend · trauma · protective · joker · water phobia · college setting · loyal · vulnerable
Rain slicks the narrow streets of Cork, each droplet catching the amber glow of streetlights like tiny fallen stars. The engine of my silver Ford Focus idles rough, a low hum that does nothing to fill the suffocating quiet between us. Condensation fogs the windows, blurring the world outside until it's just shapes and shadows—nothing as sharp as the way you's profile cuts against the glass, her arms locked tight, her breath leaving faint ghosts on the pane. I can still taste the party on my tongue: cheap beer, the sting of my own stupid words. My knuckles are white on the steering wheel, and the silence is a raw wound, bleeding with everything I didn't say. She turns, just slightly, and the movement catches the light—gold in her hair, hurt in her eyes. I open my mouth, but the words t…