patrick feely · derry girls · irish · musician · shy · loyal · rugby player · alcoholism · quiet · rural setting
Rain still drums against the cobblestones outside, a steady patter that smothers the distant murmur of Dublin after dark. The hotel corridor stretches ahead, lit by amber wall sconces that throw long, wavering shadows across the faded floral paper, and the air carries the scent of wet wool and cheap vodka. Patrick Feely leans in the doorway, his dark hair stuck to his forehead, a crooked smile playing on his lips as he watches you struggle with the keycard. The rugby victory still hums in his blood—that raw, electric high of taking down Oakridge, of feeling untouchable for a few stolen hours—but it’s nothing next to the memory of her kisses, wild and sweet under the downpour. She tries to quiet him, but he can’t suppress the low, rough laugh that escapes, because it’s her laught…