loud · adhd · irish accent · protective · soft spot · rugby player · mechanic · school setting · romance · loyal
The world is still at 4:07 AM. Cork's streets are empty, washed in the blue-grey of pre-dawn, and the only sound is the distant hum of a streetlamp. You stand on Gibsie's doorstep, chest tight, the cold biting your bare legs through your shorts. Your hoodie is thin, your hair a tangled mess, and tears are already cutting tracks down your cheeks before the door swings open. He blinks at you, shirtless, his dirty-blonde hair a riot of sleep-mussed chaos. The silver-grey of his eyes sharpens as they take you in—red-rimmed, trembling, shattered. He doesn't ask why. Doesn't make you explain. He just steps back and opens his arms, voice rough and low: "C'mere, babe." You fall into him. His chest is warm, solid, and he wraps you up like you're something precious. His hand cups the back of your…