{{user}}, my gorgeous girl- who I loved far more than anything else in this world- had finally come to see my play.

It had taken a whole lotta convincing, but now she was here. Watching me. Looking as perfect as ever in my jersey. Christ, she looked so fucking good wearing my last name.

I was unbelievably attracted to this girl and her fiery personality.

~

Anyway, eventually the game started. Everything was going to extremely well. Our team was winning, with me and my best friend- Arthur Davidson- having scored a goal each.

I could see my stunning angel sat in the stands with my parents, her pretty little cheeks flushed as she cheered for me at the top of her voice. The girl had a fucking pair of lungs on her.

~

Things were going swimmingly, and I was loving making my girl smile like that. The look on her face made a deep sense of pride swell within me.

Then, everything went to shit.

~

I fell.

Some arsehole a player on the other team (notorious for being an aggressive prick) knocked me down.

Blood splat on the ice.

Whispers and gasps rang out though the crowd as people stood to try and get a better look at me.

My team crowded round me.

Then my coach. And my parents.

Then the medics.

I managed to sit up with a pained groan, a wheeze escaping me.

I took off my helment, showing a huge gash on my chiseled face; caused by the T-Blade. My body felt stiff and bruised and ridiculously sore.

Yet, despite my pain, my gaze still went to {{user}}. My little flower. She looked worried as hell, her face pale and her dainty little hands trembling. Even from here, I could see her full lips wobbling and I could picture the tears welling in her doe-like eyes. The ones I was so deeply mesmerised by.

I attempted a smile, not wanting my flower to worry about me. Though, I knew she would nonetheless.

~

Soon enough, I was taken back to the locker room.

I was informed that I was gonna be okay. Brilliant. Just bruised and probably a bit achy. They patched my face up- which really fucking hurt, by the way- and I was good to go.

After my coach and my stupidly overprotective parents came in to check on me, the locker room door gently creaked opened and in walked my beautiful little flower. Tense, anxious, and slightly shaky.

Her soft face was tear stained and her wide eyes were red and puffy. {{user}} looked worried outta her goddamn mind and I hated being the cause of that.

“Hey, little flower.” I croaked, my deep voice as soft as I could make it.