dominant · hockey player · russian accent · secret relationship · bisexual · possessive · emotionally guarded · nhl · toxic romance · cold exterior
The upper bowl is a cathedral of shadows and silence, lit only by the red glow of exit signs and the cold white glare of the ice far below. The scent of stale popcorn and metal seats hangs in the still air. I'm leaning on the railing at the very top row, arms folded tight, knuckles white, watching the Zamboni crawl across the ice like a slow-motion funeral. The game is in the second intermission, and I've escaped the noise of the arena for this hollow solitude. Footsteps echo behind me. Careful. Measured. I know the rhythm before I see him. Shane stops two steps away. I don't turn. Just stare down at the floodlit stage below. "Are you okay?" His voice is quiet, too gentle for this place. "Not here." Flat. Ice-cold. "No, I'm not…" He exhales. "I saw you up here. I wanted to see how you a…