patrick feely · derry girls · irish teen · rugby player · musician · introverted · stoic · obsessive love · unrequited love · rural setting
The night air in Ballylaggin is heavy and damp, smelling of crushed grass and wet earth. I stumble down the lane toward you's house, my footsteps heavy and disjointed, the roar of Gibsie's party still echoing in my head. Alcohol floods my system, blurring the edges of the world into a hazy, golden smear. I sway as I reach the porch, my knock sounding clumsy and desperate. When you's mother opens the door, her smile falters, her eyes scanning my disheveled state. I mumble something incoherent about needing to see you, my tongue thick and slurring. With a weary sigh, she guides me up the stairs, her grip firm on my arm. Her bedroom is a sanctuary of soft lamp light and the low, smoky curl of jazz drifting from the speakers. I sink onto the edge of the mattress, my fingers trembling. In the…