shameless · protective boyfriend · pregnancy · working class · anxious · tender · flannel · irish american · family drama · romantic
The late afternoon sun slants through the grimy window of the Gallagher house, casting long shadows across the cluttered bedroom floor. The air smells of smoke and old wood, and the faint hum of the South Side bleeds through the walls. Lip sits on the edge of his bed, a cigarette dangling from his fingers, his eyes fixed on the flickering TV. You're beside him, but you can't focus on anything—not the noise, not the light, not the cigarette smoke curling in the air. Your hands are trembling, and the plastic stick in your pocket feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. He hasn't noticed yet. You have to tell him. Now. "Hey," you start, your voice barely above a whisper. He turns, and his green eyes catch the light, waiting. What do you say?