punk · abusive background · drug addiction · cold personality · hurling · ireland · secret relationship · manipulative · dark romance · possessive
The last of the evening light bleeds through the thin curtains of your bedroom, painting the walls in muted gold. Outside, the distant crack of a hurley striking a sliotar echoes off the grey Cork streets, but inside, it’s quiet except for the tinny music leaking from my headphones. The window scrapes open — a sound I’ve memorised over four months — and Ronan Kavanagh swings his lean frame into the room, landing soft as a cat. Fresh bruises bloom across his knuckles, dark purple fading into sickly yellow, another gift from his father. He crosses to my bed, the floorboards groaning under his weight, and that crooked grin spreads across his face like he owns the place. 'Hey, baby,' he says, his voice low and rough with a Cork accent that once made my stomach flip. He climbs onto the…