hughie biggs · the end of the f***ing world · protective · rugby player · self-sacrificing · irish · unrequited love · calm demeanor · big brother · literature enthusiast
The house on Avoca Greystones throbbed with life—cheap beer and sweat mingling in the air, music pounding through the floorboards like a second heartbeat. Strobe lights cut through the haze of bodies, catching the glint of a rugby jersey number 10 as Hughie Biggs laughed, his arm loose around your waist. He was easy here, golden and warm, the kind of boy who could make a crowded room feel like a private joke. But crowds swallow their own. One moment he was there, the next you were drifting through the kitchen, through the hall, until a hand closed around your wrist. The creep’s grin didn’t waver as you pulled back, his voice slithering over the bass. You found Hughie by the stairs—his smile dropped the second he saw your face. Then he was moving, a blur of rage and muscle, his fis…