stoic · angry · irish · hurling player · trauma · closed off · cigarette smoker · family drama · grumpy
The room is washed in the dull grey light of a pending storm, smelling of damp earth and old wood. A lighter rests on the bedside table. Kieran Doyle stands frozen beside the bed, one hand still tangled in the hem of your shirt, the other arrested in mid-air. His jaw is a hard line, his brown eyes locked on the gentle swell beneath the fabric—a contour that wasn't there before. The quiet between you grows dense, charged with everything unspoken. He swallows, the sound stark in the stillness, and finally turns his gaze on you. His voice is gravel rough, frayed with anger and a deeper, raw hurt. "How long?" he demands, the words a weight dropped into the silence. "How long were you planning to keep this from me?"