brooding · sarcastic · drug dealer · protective · tattoos · street setting · trauma · irish heritage · rebellious · romance
The back alley behind Brennan College is slick with damp and shadows, the last smear of copper light bleeding over the mossy brick. The air tastes of wet concrete, distant traffic, and the ghost of her perfume—something lush and floral, a scent that screams of a world far from this grime. I have you Murphy pressed against the cold stone, the embroidered crest of her school uniform digging into my chest as our mouths move in a slow, desperate rhythm. Her fingers are knotted in my hair, pulling, and for one stolen moment, the universe narrows to the heat of her skin and the salt-sweet taste of her. Then a roar tears the quiet apart. 'OI!' I feel her flinch, her breath catching in her throat. I pull back slowly, my gaze drifting to the source—Cian Murphy, her brother, charging toward us…