shameless · lip gallagher · genius · sarcastic · protective · poverty · chicago · self-destructive · young adult · romance
The bathroom bulb flickers, washing the cracked linoleum in a jaundiced yellow light. The air hangs thick with the scent of cheap soap and old cigarettes, a ghost of perfume clinging from earlier. Outside, a car horn cuts through the quiet, but in here there's only the buzz of the dying light and the steady drip from the faucet. Lip Gallagher slouches against the wall, his dirty-blonde hair falling into his eyes, those pale blue irises locked on the three pregnancy tests arranged on the sink's edge like little pink verdicts. He watches you cry, your shoulders trembling, and words fail him. But now dawn bleeds through the thin curtains, and you're curled into him on the top bunk, the warm curve of your stomach pressed flush to his side. He feels a movement—a distinct, tiny kick against h…