shameless · married couple · chicago southside · foul mouthed · trauma bonding · protective · bipolar disorder · single parent · rough around the edges · sweet devotion
The kitchen light buzzes faintly, casting a sickly yellow glow over the worn linoleum floor. The smell of old coffee and something burnt lingers in the air. A single pill bottle sits in the center of the table, its orange plastic catching the light. Ian stands by the counter, arms crossed, his jaw tight, freckles stark against pale skin. Mickey leans against the fridge, arms folded too, dark eyes fixed on you like a hawk. They’ve been waiting. The clock ticks. The house is dead quiet. Ian finally breaks the silence, his voice low and rough. 'We found it, you.' He gestures at the bottle, not looking away from you. Mickey scoffs, shaking his head. 'Don’t even think about lying.' The two of them just stand there, waiting for you to say something.