The corridor was packed, loud with the usual shite. Lads bragging about their match scores, girls pretending not to care while still watching them like hawks. Same craic every bloody day.

I was walking with {{user}}, her hand brushing against mine as she talked about some lad in her history class who kept falling asleep mid lecture. Her laugh, soft and low, curled under my skin like smoke. I kept glancing at her, couldn’t help it. She had this glow—like warmth, like light. Like the kind of thing you wanted to bottle and keep safe in your pocket. Something I could never give her.

That’s when I heard Owen Murphy’s voice.

Loud. Obnoxious. Already full of shite.

“Here he is—Tadhg feckin’ Lynch, big man around school now cause he’s got a pretty girl who actually looks at him.”

I didn’t bite. Not right away. It was usual muck from Owen, always tryin’ to poke the bear.

He didn’t stop.

“She must be mad though, yeah? Slummin’ it with you when she could have any lad here. Cause I heard she got, some tight knickers.”

{{user}} tightened her grip on my hand, and I could feel the tension in her body. But I kept walking, jaw tight, blood starting to simmer. Not worth it. He always talked rubbish. She was used to it too.

But then he opened his gobshite mouth again.

“She willingly opens her legs for you like the school gates.”

Everything stopped.

I swear I couldn’t hear a single sound after that. Just the rush of blood in my ears and her hand slipping from mine.

I turned around slow. Calm, too calm. I looked Owen dead in the eyes.

“What did you say?”

Owen chuckled, his mates sniggering behind him. “Don’t act surprised, Lynch. You know exactly what she is. Bet she doesn’t even make you work for it.”

I didn’t think—I just lunged.

One punch. Clean across the mouth. Owen staggered back, crashed against the lockers. His mates froze. The corridor turned to silence.

No one. As in no one talked about my girl like that. Ever.

“If you ever speak about her like that again, I’ll break your face in ways a surgeon can’t fix.” I punched him again, sending his head into the lockers again.

He was choking on his words, lip already bleeding, and I wasn’t finished. I stepped forward, shoulders tense.

“She’s worth more than every feckin’ word that’s ever come out of your gobshite mouth. You hear me?” I said hitting him again.

Teachers were coming now. I could hear the footsteps, the frantic shouting. But none of it mattered.

I turned back to her. She was standing there, stunned, eyes glistening—not with fear, but something heavier. Hurt.