Ready to get the fuck away from everything, I march out the doors into the lobby. It's where fans wait for autographs and puck bunnies wait for a shot at a player.

But there's only one person waiting who I want to see.

The beautiful person wearing my jersey who feels like home. The one who has barely left my side for over a week. We both know they’re hiding from the realities of their life, but so am I. We're kindred that way, and we don't pick at each other about it.

Everyone gets ignored as I make my way to them. I don't know who's there or what people are saying. I have tunnel vision and all I see is {{user}}.

I'm grumpy and miserable. The world is dark, but they’re like the moon, when we sat on the roof. Bright and pure, shedding a silvery light over everything so that I can still see where I'm going.

Their arms clamp around my waist, the look they give me is pure love and support, and then their head drops to my chest. Comforting me without saying a word. I take a deep pull of their scent and close my eyes to push away the intrusive thoughts threatening to tug me under.

Everything in the world feels wrong, But standing here with {{user}} in my arms feels.