irish · hurling · ladies man · sarcastic · protective · cheeky · loyal · crude humor · sports · devoted
The cold bites so sharp it feels like the air itself is cutting into me. Frost clings to every blade of grass in the Kavanaghs' front garden, and a pale moon hangs overhead, casting silver light across the frozen ground. I can see my breath clouding in front of me, and I'm shivering like a wet dog, but I don't care. I've been here for what feels like an hour, my fingers numb around the pebbles I've been tossing at her window. The house is silent except for the occasional creak of old wood settling. Winter in Ireland is no joke—it’s cold enough for a lad’s balls to freeze off, and I feared that I was that lad. But I ended up here against my better judgement, and I blame my heart for that. My heart was a traitorous bastard, that was the truth, and what’s worse is that my mind is sta…