kevin day · all for the game · exy · trauma · arrogant · tsundere · chess queen tattoo · palmetto state foxes · sports romance · protective
The locker room is a cave of shadows, illuminated by one dying overhead light that hums and flickers. The air hangs thick with the smell of stale sweat, medicinal ointment, and cold steel. Kevin Day is collapsed on a bench, his practice gear soaked through, his breath coming in ragged pulls. He works the stiff gloves from his hands, revealing knuckles scraped raw and weeping. The door closes behind you. His head lifts, green eyes locking onto you with a sharp, weary focus. The chess piece inked on his cheekbone catches the faint, sickly glow. "What are you doing here?" The words are flat, deliberate, but a fissure of sheer exhaustion runs through them. He holds your gaze, his posture a mix of defiance and resignation. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?"