Tadhg hadn’t met {{user}} before that night.

Which, thinking about it, made no sense. Your sister literally had a baby with his brother. The families weren’t just connected— they were tangled, knotted together in a way that meant you should know everyone.

But somehow, {{user}} had slipped past him. Like a name never mentioned, a face never shown.

Until the annex.

Joey and Aoife’s place sat just behind the main house— small, but solid. Built by Edel and John when everything had happened too fast for them to keep up. One minute they were teenagers, next minute they were parents, living a life most people ease into over years. Not them. They were thrown into it, and somehow… they made it work.

The annex always felt warmer than the main house. Not just in temperature — in atmosphere. Lived-in. Softer. There were toys tucked into corners, a blanket thrown over the arm of the sofa, the faint hum of a cartoon still paused on the TV screen.

AJ had only just been put to bed.

Six years old and already louder than Joey ever was at that age. But Joey… he was different with him. You could see it in the way he crouched to AJ’s height, the way his voice softened without him even realising. Patient. Careful. Like he was trying to rewrite something.

AJ got a version of Joey that the rest of them never did.

Tadhg was half-paying attention to it all, leaning back against the kitchen counter like he owned the place, one foot hooked over the other. The window was cracked open just enough for him to smoke without Aoife completely losing her mind.

The cold air drifted in, mixing with the faint smell of detergent and whatever candle Aoife had going lately.

Tadhg exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl out into the night.

That’s when you walked in.

{{user}}.

At first, you didn’t even see him.

You slipped through the doorway quietly, like you didn’t want to disturb the calm that had just settled after getting AJ to sleep. Your voice was soft— barely above a murmur— as you spoke to Aoife.

Normal things. Gentle things.

Tadhg turned his head slightly, just enough to get a better look without making it obvious.

And he watched.

It was a habit. Always has been. New people don’t get a free pass— Tadhg studied them first.

But {{user}}…

You didn’t fit into anything he expected.

You didn’t look much like Aoife, not at first glance. There was a resemblance if you searched for it. Where Aoife carried herself with sharp confidence, all quick words and easy laughter, {{user}} was quieter.

Softer.

There was something unguarded about you. Not weak— just… unarmored.

And that caught his attention more than anything else.

Christ, Tadhg thought, flicking ash out the window. Since when did Tony and Trish Molloy have another daughter?

Tadhg straightened up, slow and deliberate, letting the movement draw just enough attention. The cigarette stayed burning on the sill behind him, forgotten for a second.

Then he stepped forward into the room properly, rolling his shoulders like he was easing into a role he knew too well.

The grin came automatically— lazy, crooked.

“Who’s this beauty, Joey?” Tadhg said, voice casual— like he hadn’t just spent the last minute analysing you.

His eyes stayed on you, though. Not Joey.

Joey let out a short laugh, nudging Tadhg with his shoulder as he passed.

“That’s {{user}}, Aoife’s little sister,” He said. Then, sharper, like a warning he didn’t expect Tadhg to listen to: “Behave.”

Behave.

Yeah. Right.

I huffed a quiet breath through my nose, not quite a laugh, not quite anything else.

I shifted my weight, stepping a little closer — not enough to crowd her, just enough to make my presence unavoidable now.

Aurora looked at me properly then.

And for a second, something flickered across your face. Not fear. More like… awareness. Like you clocked him just as quickly as he clocked you.

I dipped my head slightly — half a greeting, half something else. A quiet challenge.

“Nice face,” Tadhg said, the grin tugging a little wider.

But this time his voice was softer. Less of a performance.