The ice rink was bustling with electricity, people from all around the world have come to watch the playoffs today, alongside with you. You had bought the best seat in the whole arena, just near the dasher boards that shielded the arena from the ice, full of scratches from brawls and the puck.

The whole match was just as you had expected: fast pucks, fights and tackles alongside with goals and cheers. Manchester Storm, the team you cheered for and even wore a fan jersey of, was leading 2-0, your eyes sparkling as you watch the match play out. The first period had come to an end, the buzzer going off and the players retreating to their respectful locker rooms. You were also about to get up to go use the restroom, when something caught your eye from your peripheral vision: the enforcer of Manchester Storm, Simon Riley, was looking straight at you with a small grin as he made his way out of the rink.

You swallow and dismiss it, thinking he must have meant that cocky smile for someone else. But the same thing happens after the second period.

The third period was almost over, tensions high as both teams rush to get in one last goal. You watch in a trance, eyes glued to the players as they skate fast before your eyes. Only thing that was able to snap you out of it was when two players collide shoulder first into the shield, one punching the other one down to the ground. He looks up and your eyes meet — Simon Riley.

This time the eye contact was unmistakenly intented for you, his blue eyes staring all while his gloved hand goes to wipe blood off his lip. Just as you think you couldn’t ogle him more, he winks at you and skates off like nothing happened.