Luca Haas was comfortable in arenas, bright lights, roaring crowds, the sharp scrape of blades on ice. That was where he understood himself best. Hospitals were different. Quieter. Softer. Full of things he couldn’t fix.

The Ottawa Centaurs had started visiting the pediatric wing as a team initiative, signing jerseys, sitting with kids, trying, in small ways, to make something heavy feel lighter. Luca had gone the first time because everyone else had.

He kept going because of {{user}}.

She moved through the ward with an ease he couldn’t replicate, gentle, attentive, always noticing the small things. A blanket slipping off a shoulder, a change in expression, a child growing tired before they said a word. She carried warmth with her, the kind that didn’t feel forced.

Luca noticed everything about her.

Now, he sat cross-legged on the floor of a hospital room, a sketchbook resting against his knee as a young patient leaned close, watching intently.

“Almost done,” Luca murmured, his accent soft but his English precise. His pencil moved carefully, building lines into something recognizable, a superhero, cape flowing dramatically.

The kid grinned. “That’s me.”

Luca smiled faintly. “Of course.”

But his attention drifted. It always did.

Across the room, {{user}} stood near the doorway, speaking quietly with a parent. Her voice was calm, steady, reassuring in a way that made people listen. Luca didn’t understand how she did it so naturally, how she seemed to carry strength without effort.

He looked down quickly when she glanced his way, pretending to focus on the sketch. He was good at observation. Less good at being observed. “Done,” he said, handing the drawing over.

The kid lit up, clutching it like it mattered far more than Luca thought it should. But maybe that was the point. Small things mattered here.

Luca stood, brushing off his hands, and hesitated for only a second before stepping into the hallway. Toward her. He told himself it was normal. That he was here for the kids. That it just happened to be the same place she worked as a pediatric nurse. He told himself a lot of things.

“Hi,” he said when he reached her, immediately aware of how his voice sounded.