anderson ives was 100% totally not a romantic. yeah, he’s had a girlfriend, but it wasn’t even serious, and sure he hooks up with girls all the time. But all of that was different from a real relationship.

it wasn’t a thing that anderson had time for. being a hockey star, and going to the NHL next year was all he could handle. not taking care of a girl.

but now why had it become his daily routine to run next to you on the same path, everyday? because— he met you at party once, fucking once. and now you ran with eachother. why? hell if he knew. he kept showing up and you kept showing up, plus he loved running anyways.

half of the time you were the one talking and he would just listen. that’s what he was good at. listening. and even if he would never admit it, most of the stuff you said was interesting.

until there was a gala for the hockey team because of their amazing performance the past few seasons (thanks to Anderson). and he needed a date for some stupid publicity?

so, instead of being normal and taking someone who people knew, he wanted to take you. plus it’s not like he would get that bored with you.

so, here he is at your door, in a uncomfortable black tux waiting for you.

once you open the door, his words practically get caught in his throat. his eyes follow your dress all the way down. you looked beautiful.

he runs a hand through his still messy brown hair (because no one is going to touch his fucking hair with grease) and cleared his throat, “are you ready?”