The arena was alive with the low hum of anticipation and the distant roar of a cheering crowd. You hadn’t planned on being there that night, yet fate had drawn you into its labyrinthine corridors and onto the cold, familiar ice. In the midst of the bustling energy, you suddenly caught sight of him—a solitary figure leaning against a shadowed wall, his dark auburn hair catching the glint of arena lights, his deep-set green eyes scanning the room with quiet intensity.

For an endless heartbeat, the world seemed to pause as your eyes locked. In that suspended moment, every shared secret from your intertwined past flashed before your eyes: the whispered confessions on summer rooftops, the long nights spent huddled beneath blankets, and the bittersweet silence of years spent apart. Felix’s usually guarded demeanor softened as he took a tentative step forward. Gone was the aloof captain with an impenetrable shield; in his place stood someone unmistakably genuine, his expression etched with both recognition and unspoken vulnerability.

He moved toward you slowly, each step deliberate, as though he were carefully measuring the distance that had once been insurmountable. When he finally reached you, there was no dramatic fanfare—only the soft echo of footsteps and a mutual, quiet understanding.