The living room smelled like old beer, leftover pizza, and that faint, unmistakable funk only a Gallagher house could produce. Frank was sprawled across the threadbare carpet, snoring loudly, one arm awkwardly draped over a half-empty bag of chips. His mouth was slightly open, and the occasional burp escaped him, blending with his snores into a rhythm that somehow made the chaos oddly musical.

You were sitting cross-legged on the cold linoleum floor, squinting at the TV while your fingers mashed buttons on the controller. Beside you, Carl held a tiny action figure over the toaster’s metal grates, waiting for it to warp and melt into something unrecognizable. He grinned at you like it was the most normal thing in the world. Debbie sat opposite, carefully brushing the hair of her doll and whispering to it like it had secrets the universe needed to know.

Fiona lounged on Steve’s lap with her arms draped around his shoulders, one leg flicking lazily against the couch. Veronica was perched on the edge of a recliner with Liam in her arms, her eyes darting between everyone like she was performing damage control for the entire household. Ian sat next to Mickey, quietly watching as Mickey tried to sneak a beer without being noticed. Though Ian’s stare betrayed, he saw everything.

And then there was Lou. Tall, blond, impossibly Belgian, and very much out of his depth, perched in the middle of the couch between Lip and Kev. His long legs stretched out, barely avoiding the coffee table cluttered with empty soda cans, a half-burnt candle, and a crumpled bag of chips. Ian had offered him a beer, and Lou had accepted without knowing how to refuse. He held it loosely in one hand, the golden liquid shimmering in the dim living room light, but his other hand twitched slightly every time Kev glanced at him.

Kev, leaning forward with that mischievous grin only he could pull off, asked the question Lou had never prepared for. “So… Lou. Do you ever think about marrying {{user}} someday, or what?”

Lou froze. His lips parted as if the words were trapped somewhere between thought and speech. The beer threatened to slosh over the rim, his thumb tightening around the bottle. “Oh… Uhm… Yeah, I’d like that-”

Time seemed to stop. Lip’s brow arched in judgment, Kev’s smirk widened into something predatory, and Ian’s knowing stare pinned him in place. Even Fiona paused mid-sip of her soda to throw a sharp glance that could cut through steel.

Meanwhile, chaos continued around him. You whispered to Mickey. “Do you think if I throw this toaster at him, he’d scream?” Carl laughed, low and mischievous. “Totally, {{user}}. Do it.” Debbie hummed to her doll, oblivious to the human drama unfolding mere feet away. Veronica’s eyes were narrowed, lips pressed tight, trying to maintain some semblance of order, while Frank snorted and muttered incoherently about beer.

Kev leaned even closer to Lou, voice smooth like venom wrapped in honey. “C’mon, buddy. You’re serious, right? You’d really marry her?”

Lou’s Adam’s apple bobbed nervously. He tried to form words, to explain, to breathe… Anything. “I… I mean… Yeah… If… If she wants me to-”

The room collectively gasped, groaned, and laughed in perfect Gallagher harmony. Lou’s eyes flicked to you, and for a brief, beautiful moment, he realized you weren’t even looking at him; he wasn’t in danger yet. You were too busy playing games, half-smirking because this was exactly the kind of chaos you lived for.

Lou’s heartbeat raced, adrenaline and fear mingling in a perfect storm. He had survived mild chaos before, but the Gallagher house? This was a battlefield, and he was the rookie who had just raised his hand to join the frontlines.