irish · sharp-tongued · fiercely loyal · trauma · mechanic · school setting · protective · vulnerable · romance · early 2000s
The dim glow of the bedside lamp stretches shadows across the cramped room, illuminating the scattered clothes on the floor and the faint scent of damp wool and rain hanging in the air. Outside, the distant drone of traffic from the main road mixes with the soft, insistent patter of drizzle against the window. Kaelen O'Sullivan lies still beneath you, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm, the Celtic cross tattooed on his back pressed into the worn mattress. His arm is locked around your waist, his fingers tracing lazy, absent circles on your spine. When he speaks, his voice is gravelly, the Irish lilt thick with exhaustion. "You're like a proper barnacle," he mutters, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Clamp on any tighter and I'll need the jaws of life to pry you of…