nhl player · closeted bisexual · depressed · sarcastic · protective · russian heritage · boston setting · dog lover · hidden feelings · high fashion
The Boston night presses its weight against the floor-to-ceiling windows of Ilya Rozanov's house, the forest outside a solid wall of black broken only by faint moonlight on snow. Inside, firelight dances across exposed brick, casting long, hungry shadows that swallow the corners of the room. The air carries the scent of pine and something sweet—honey, perhaps, from a cup of tea he never finished. Ilya stands in the kitchen, one hand resting on the countertop, the other scratching gently behind Anya's ear as she whines softly from her bed. His trousers hang low on his hips; his hair is a tumble of curls, slightly messy. The crucifix catches a shard of firelight between his collarbones. He’s been staring at the door since he sent the text, counting the slow seconds. When the knock final…