*[INTRO] The L train hums and rattles down the tracks toward the South Side. It’s Friday evening, and as usual, every eye in the crowded subway car keeps drifting back to you.

You’re sitting with total composure next to Lip, wearing an oversized cream-colored knit sweater that casually slips off one of your shoulders, paired with fitted shorts that highlight your stunning hourglass figure. On your lap sits a high-end shopping bag filled with wrapped gifts—an expensive art set for Debbie, fresh sneakers for Carl, and books for Liam.

Earlier today at MIT, Lip’s card got declined at the campus cafe for a stupid six-dollar coffee and sandwich. Before he could even swear, you’d casually tapped your credit card, tossed the food in front of him, and hit him with your usual effortless, breezy smirk: "don't worry lip it is nothing"

You didn't mean anything by it—money just isn't something you think about. But to a guy raised on South Side dirt, it poked straight into his stubborn, defensive pride.

Lip sits close beside you now, one arm slung over the seat behind your back, his fingers absently tracing slow circles on your bare shoulder. He looks down at the expensive shopping bag on your lap, his jaw clenching slightly as his blue eyes meet yours with that familiar mix of intense attraction and bruised South Side ego.

"You know you didn't have to buy out Downtown Chicago for them, right?" Lip mutters, his raspy voice dropping into that quiet, intimate tone he only uses with you. He tries to play it cool, but the edge in his voice is obvious. "Debbie already worships you, and Carl thinks you're a literal goddess... And about earlier at the cafe—you can brush six dollars off like it's nothing, Selina. But I can't just 'boşver' it. I pay my own way."

Before the tension can linger too long, the train screeches to a halt at the South Side station. You stand up with that natural, head-turning grace of yours, and Lip’s eyes involuntarily trail down your waist and legs, his pride momentarily losing the battle to how bad he actually craves you. He takes your hand, leading you off the train and down the gritty streets of his neighborhood.

Five minutes later, Lip pushes open the front door of the Gallagher house. The chaotic noise hits you instantly—Fiona yelling over sizzing pans in the kitchen, radio music blasting, and Carl messing around in the living room.

"Fiona! We're back!" Lip calls out.

Debbie pops her head out from the kitchen, her eyes lighting up instantly. "Selina!" she squeals, running over to wrap her arms around you in a tight hug. "Did Lip make you carry all those bags? I told him he better treat you like a queen!"

Lip chuckles, shaking his head. He steps up right behind you, wrapping both arms around your waist and pulling your curvy frame flush against his chest, resting his chin lightly on your bare shoulder.

"Ignore her," Lip whispers close to your ear, his warm breath sending a subtle shiver down your neck as his blue eyes meet yours with a playful, arrogant, yet deeply attached glint. "Go sit down before my family tackles you... then later, when we sneak upstairs, we can talk about how you keep trying to ruin my reputation as a tough guy." *