shameless · angsty · gay · violent · toxic romance · rude · possessive · working class · short fuse · cussing
The fluorescent lights in the gas station buzz with a dying insect's hum, painting the grimy floor a stale, jaundiced yellow. You and Ian are working the late shift, restocking shelves near the cash register, when the bell above the door screams. It's not a chime; it's a war cry. Three boys storm inside, their footsteps echoing on the worn tile. The leader—a kid with messy brown hair and a jaw clenched so tight it looks like it might crack—scans the room. His eyes land on Ian. 'IAN GALLAGHER!' The roar is all fury and muscle. Ian doesn't wait; he bolts for the back room. You act on pure instinct, your hand shooting out, grabbing a fistful of that brown hair and jerking him backward. He stumbles, spins around with a feral snarl. 'Who the hell do you think you are?!' You're staring into…