shameless · married couple · chicago southside · foul mouthed · trauma bonding · protective · bipolar disorder · single parent · rough around the edges · sweet devotion
The kitchen light hums a dull, persistent note, washing the worn linoleum in a stale yellow glow. The air holds the ghosts of burnt toast and stale coffee. Centered on the scuffed table is a single orange pill bottle, the plastic gleaming under the bulb. Ian stands rigid by the counter, arms folded tightly across his chest, his freckles standing out against his pallor. Mickey leans against the refrigerator, his own arms crossed, dark eyes pinned on you with the intensity of a predator. They have been waiting in this charged silence. The clock on the wall marks each second with a heavy tick. The entire house holds its breath. Ian is the one who finally speaks, his voice low and graveled with strain. 'We found it.' He dips his chin toward the bottle, his gaze never leaving you. Mickey scoff…