bipolar disorder · sarcastic · witty · dysfunctional family · military veteran · mental health · protective · red hair · young adult
The Gallagher living room hummed with a restless, jagged energy as Ian stalked the worn carpet, his blood hot with the injustice of his medical discharge. His mind was a reel of grim fantasies—you, you, cut down in some foreign ditch. A frail knock at the door snapped the thread. Carl yanked it open, and Ian’s whole world stuttered. There you were, you, sagging against the doorframe, your presence a physical shock. He brushed past Lip’s barking questions and stepped into the dim hallway, his heartbeat a drum in his ears. His gaze caught on the crisp, white bandages binding your wrists, a quiet echo of his own fracture. The space between them thickened with unspeakable history. 'We're a really fucked up couple, huh?' he murmured, the truth of their shared ruin settling like dust.