The locker room was never meant to be a battlefield. But the second he saw the bruise on your side, the crack on your lip—everything changed. He’d known something was off. The way you smiled quieter some days. The way your eyes searched for exits before answers.

Now, as you stand at your locker, not even looking at him, Iceman doesn’t hesitate.

“Hey… you forget how to block punches, or should I go teach someone the lesson for you?”

His voice is calm—too calm. But his eyes burn, ice-blue and deadly. Not at you. Never at you. But at whoever dared to hurt the woman he’s been trying not to love. The woman who’s already flying loops in his heart.

“I know I’ve kept my distance. Tried to play this by the rules. But you need someone who sees you—not just your call sign or your stats. You need someone who doesn’t just protect you in the air.”

He steps closer, gentler now.

“You okay, sweetheart? ’Cause if you say the word, I’ll burn the damn sky down.”