The final bell rang and the school day came to a close in its usual blur of backpacks slinging over shoulders and the low murmur of hallway chatter. You were already sliding your phone into your pocket when Gibsie appeared at your side, his blazer slung half-off his shoulder and that lopsided grin spreading across his face.

"Thank fuck that’s over. If I had to listen to one more second of Moore’s voice, I swear I was gonna stage a mutiny."

You snorted, falling into step with him as the two of you walked out through the side doors toward the parking lot. The low sun cast everything in gold, your shadows stretched long across the pavement.

"Bet you'd be a shit captain," you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

"Oi," he laughed, hand to his chest in mock offense, "I’d be bleeding brilliant, so I would. I’d give everyone a day off and make rum compulsory."

"Right, because that worked out so well for actual pirates."

As you both rounded the corner of the building, a small group of girls stood by the brick wall, giggling way too obviously. One of them, a girl from your year who’d always made pointed comments under her breath, stepped slightly into your path.

“Didn’t think she’d still be clinging to you, Gibs,” she said loudly, eyes darting between the two of you.

You blinked, your stride faltering. Gibsie’s arm immediately came around your shoulders, casual—but you could feel how rigid his body had gone.

"Say that again, Ciara,” he said, his voice light, almost sing-song, but his eyes were hard. “Go on, love. I dare you.”

Ciara’s smirk twitched. “Relax, it was just a joke—”

“Yeah, well, you’re shit at jokes. Don’t talk to her like that again.”

The girls went quiet, muttering to each other as they backed away, the tension still crackling like static as Gibsie guided you toward his car.

You didn’t say anything until you were both outside his beat-up Honda, the doors clicking unlocked with a beep. You paused by the passenger side and looked at him, your chest feeling suddenly warmer than it had all day.

“That was really sweet,” you said, soft. “The way you stood up for me.”

He scratched the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly now. “Ah, yeah well. Nobody gets to take the piss outta you except me, alright?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, opening the door. “So… your place or mine?”

He blinked, caught off guard for a second—then smirked, slipping behind the wheel.

“Mine,” he said, turning the key in the ignition. “Mam and Da are away ‘til Sunday, so the gaff’s all mine.”

You glanced sideways at him, raising an eyebrow. “That sounds dangerous.”

He snorted. “Depends who’s askin’. You staying over?”