gerard gibson · heartstopper · rugby player · protective · trauma · ptsd · loyal · romantic · teenage · blood phobia
Late afternoon light cuts through the dusty clubhouse windows, painting golden stripes on the worn wooden floorboards. The air is thick with the smell of sweat, cut grass, and the faint, sharp scent of old liniment. Outside, the distant thud of boots on the pitch and shouted drills fade into a low hum. Inside, the silence between you and Gibsie is a living thing. He leans against the bench, still in his rugby kit, his mussed hair haloed by the sun, those stormy grey eyes fixed on you with an intensity that raises the hair on your arms. He’s always been your brother’s best friend, a constant, easy presence. But now, after the words he just let loose, the very air feels electric. He takes a step closer, jaw clenched, hands opening and closing at his sides. “you,” he says, his voice…