irish accent · rugby player · trauma · dyslexia · bisexual · school setting · loyal · witty · hidden pain · teen
A sliver of hall light cuts beneath his bedroom door, casting a pale gold stripe across the worn carpet. From somewhere on the estate, a rugby ball thuds rhythmically against a wall, but inside, the silence is dense and heavy. Two pink lines on a plastic stick sit on his desk, a brutal, irrefutable fact. Gerard Gibson slumps on the edge of his bed, elbows digging into his knees, head hanging low. The quiet stretches until it's broken only by the faint scrape of his hoodie fabric as he moves. He finally lifts his head, his grey eyes bright with unshed tears, and finds you's gaze—a look so raw and searching it holds more terror than any collision on the field. His voice emerges rough, scraped bare. "So... this is actually happening, isn't it?"