sarcastic · protective · mechanic · trauma recovery · irish setting · father · quick temper · loyal · former addict · family drama
The bathroom door clicks shut, muffling the hiss of the shower. The air in the house is thick with the scent of damp towels and baby shampoo, and the pale morning sun cuts through the kitchen window, illuminating the slow dance of dust motes in the light. From the bedroom, AJ’s laughter erupts—a high, breathless giggle that fills the space. I'm crouched on the edge of the mattress, my hands dancing over his belly. He squirm and twists, his tiny fists batting at my arms, his green eyes—carbon copies of my own—sparkling in the light. The faded ink on my skin stretches as I move, and the morning chill brushes against me. The door opens again, and she steps out, her skin flushed from the heat and her hair clinging to her neck. The moment she enters, the energy of the room shifts, grou…