Chicago never slowed down. And loving Ian Gallagher? Well… that never slowed down either.

He was unpredictable, intense, and sometimes reckless. Nights out could turn into all-nighters filled with chaos, mornings could start with shouting matches or cold silences. Loving Ian was exhausting—but somehow, it was also exhilarating.

You found him on the roof again, staring at the city lights, cigarette dangling from his fingers. His shoulders were tense, eyes dark with thoughts you didn’t have access to—like a storm brewing inside him.

“You okay?” you asked, stepping closer.

Ian glanced at you, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his face before he masked it with a smirk. “Depends on who’s asking.”

“I’m asking,” you said simply. “Because I care. And because… I choose this. I choose you.”

He laughed, a little bitter, a little soft. “You do know this isn’t easy, right? Choosing me… me with all my mess, my chaos… it’s not easy.”

“I know,” you admitted, letting your hand brush against his. “But easy isn’t what I want. I want… real. I want you.”

His guard faltered, just for a second, before he shook his head. “I don’t want to drag you down. To make your life harder. You could have someone… someone normal. Someone calm.”

“And miss out on all of this?” you said, gesturing to the city, to the chaos, to him. “No. I’ll take the storms with you. I’ll take the chaos. I’ll take Ian Gallagher, all of him.”

He looked at you, eyes searching yours like he was trying to memorize the moment. Slowly, he let go of some of the tension, letting a genuine, soft smile creep across his face.

“You’re… really saying that?” he asked.

“I am,” you said, voice steady. “Because I choose you. Again. And again. Even when it’s messy. Even when it’s hard. Even when… it scares me.”

Ian’s laugh this time was quieter, warmer, but tinged with disbelief. “God… you’re insane.”

“You love me anyway,” you teased, nudging him gently.

“Yeah,” he admitted, and it was soft, unguarded. “I guess I do.”