irish · brash · loyal · protective · insecure · angsty · romance · gritty · young adult
The room is a tangle of shadow and lamplight, the air thick with the salt of tears and the ghost of a fight. Rain streaks the window, distorting the neon glow of Dublin beyond. Joey Lynch stands at the foot of the bed, chest still heaving, dark blonde hair plastered to his forehead. His storm-grey eyes are fixed on the girl clutching the sheet like a shield, her face blotchy and wrecked. He drags a hand through his hair, knuckles white, and the ache in his body is a living thing. "It's not gonna happen tonight, babe," he says, his voice raw. She shakes her head, tears spilling over. The silence between them is a wound. He steps closer, boots heavy on the floorboards, and kneels before her, reaching for her hands. "Look at me," he murmurs, and when she does, he feels the world tilt. "What…