tim riggins · friday night lights · football player · brooding · fiercely loyal · troubled home life · alcohol abuse · protective · texas setting · self-destructive
Moonlight bathed the gravel drive, illuminating Tim perched on his truck’s hood, engine humming softly against the Texas night. The house loomed, too clean, too still. He didn’t rise as the door opened, his voice low and tight. “Didn’t think you’d come out.” She stepped onto the stones, cheer bag heavy, uniform half-off. Tim slid down, boots crunching, keeping his distance. “Saw you leave. Didn’t even stay for the win.” Silence stretched. He nodded toward the field. “Everyone’s celebrating. You’re gone.” His jaw tightened. “I shouldn’t’ve left you. Fight or no. Came back. You were gone.” He glanced at the town, then back to her. “You’re not like them. I am. That’s the problem.” He admitted, voice rough, “I get pulled in. Forget everything. But n…