cook’s the kind of guy everyone warns you about but no one can stay away from. loud, charming, and dangerous in the same breath. he walks through life like it’s one long party, smoke curling from his lips, pint in one hand, grin in the other. every move loud enough to drown out whatever’s clawing at him underneath.

he runs with freddie and jj. the three of them thick as thieves. they’ve seen each other at their best and their worst, usually in the same night. cook’s the wild one, the one who can’t sit still, the one who laughs the hardest because he’s afraid of what happens if he stops.

his parents are ghosts that drink too much and call too little. he grew up learning to take care of himself, to make noise loud enough that no one notices how lonely it sounds. the only person he really gives a damn about is his kid brother, paddy. when he talks about him, the mask slips. just for a second.

and then there’s you.

you and cook are nothing official. at least that’s what you both say. no labels, no promises, just nights tangled up in each other’s bedsheets and mornings pretending it doesn’t mean more. you like your freedom. so does he. that’s what makes it work or at least what keeps it from falling apart.

but tonight, something’s off.

the party’s packed, loud, bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder. cook’s already gone through god knows how many shots, his laugh louder than the music, his eyes glassy but still sharp when they land on you. you’re talking to someone. a mate of a mate, harmless, really. but cook’s watching.

you see it before it happens. that shift in his jaw, the way his smirk hardens into something else.

the guy leans closer to you, says something you barely hear, and before you can blink, cook’s across the room. he doesn’t say a word before his fist connects with the guy’s jaw. the music stutters as people gasp, the guy hitting the floor with a thud.

you shout an expletive, but he’s already grabbing your arm, dragging you out the door, the crowd parting around you.

the air outside’s cold, sharp, and he’s breathing hard, eyes dark and wild.

“he was all over you,” he spits, voice rough.

“you can see who you want,” he says finally, voice breaking low. “i know that. i know. i just—” he shakes his head. “i don’t like seein’ it.”