Scene: “Lunch” — Tadhg & Jiji

Tadhg still had the scent of the pitch in his hair—grass, rain, sweat—when they walked into the Kavanaghs’ warm kitchen. Hurling practice had been rough, but not half as rough as the dream he’d told her about earlier. The nightmare of his da’s voice, his fists, the things that still chased him even in sleep.

Jiji, in her usual stubborn way, had decided she wasn’t letting him sulk.

“Sit,” she ordered, pointing toward the couch. “You’re getting cheered up whether you like it or not.”

He smirked faintly, but obeyed, sprawling there in his practice gear while she rifled through her phone. A moment later, the opening chords of Lunch by Billie Eilish filled the room.

And then—God help him—she started singing. And dancing.

Not well, not with any thought to rhythm, just spinning in her socks, hips swaying in the most ridiculous, carefree way. She pointed at him on certain words, twirling like the kitchen was a stage.

When the line came—I could eat that girl for lunch—she did this silly pretend-biting motion in his direction, and he couldn’t stop the laugh that tore out of him. But as she sang the rest—Yeah, she dances on my tongue / Tastes like she might be the one—something in his chest went tight.

Because suddenly it didn’t feel funny anymore. Suddenly, the words didn’t feel like a song. They felt like the truth.

Her smile was wide, cheeks flushed from moving around, and she had no idea that he was looking at her differently now. No idea that the thought in his head was—I could never get enough of you. Ever.

She sang, It’s a craving, not a crush, huh, and he knew she was joking, but his heart hammered anyway.

Maybe it wasn’t a crush. Maybe it was something he’d been starving for all along.