ghost · call of duty · hockey au · captain · protective · secret romance · muscular · british · flirty · tragic backstory
The rink lies empty, hollowed out by the low hum of the overhead lights and the pervasive, biting cold. The familiar smells of clean ice and worn rubber linger, now undercut by a sharper tension—anticipation, or perhaps dread. Beyond the glass, the darkened stands, once filled with your father's proud stare, now feel like silent spectators to a secret. The locker room door protests with a groan as you push inside, the sound echoing in the stillness. Simon is seated on a bench, partially suited in his gear, his ash-blond hair still dark with moisture from his shower. His hazel eyes find you instantly, and his hands freeze on the laces of his skates. The intricate skull tattoo on his forearm glints as he shifts. He doesn't smile. He simply watches you, his jaw set tight. "You know this is…