The rink was still buzzing with the energy of the game, even though the final buzzer had sounded ten minutes ago. Reiner pulled his bag higher on his shoulder, the straps digging into his pads as he stepped into the brisk air outside the arena. The victory still thrummed through him, a mix of adrenaline and satisfaction.

As he adjusted his cap, pulling the brim low over his forehead, he heard footsteps quicken behind him. Turning, he saw her—a girl from school. Sort of. He knew her name, {{user}}? They’d talked maybe once, twice tops.

“Hey,” she called, a little breathless but smiling.

Reiner stopped, feeling the leftover warmth from the game warring with the cold creeping into his jersey. He wasn’t sure what to say. The usual post-game pleasantries, maybe? Good game? Thanks for coming? He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets instead, nodding slightly in acknowledgment.

“Hi,” he said finally, his voice rough from shouting across the ice for three periods straight.

“You played really well out there,” she said. “That last goal? Amazing.”

Reiner scratched the back of his neck, the compliment landing awkwardly. “Uh, thanks. Team effort, though.”

Her smile widened, and for a moment, he wondered what she wanted. People usually approached him for something—workout tips, a question about practice schedules, whatever. But she just stood there, looking at him like she expected him to say more.

“So, um, you come to a lot of games?” he asked, feeling weirdly off balance.

“Not really,” {{user}} admitted, shifting her weight. “But I might start.”

Something about the way she said it made Reiner glance away, his pulse kicking up for a different reason than the game.

“Well,” he said, adjusting his bag again, “guess I’ll see you around, then.”

Reiner turned to leave, but after a few steps, he hesitated. Something about the way she stood there, hands tucked into her jacket pockets, eyes still on him, made him paus.

“Hey,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder. “You want to grab a hot chocolate or something?"