introverted · supernatural · hockey player · mlm · tragic curse · professional athlete · quiet leader · horror elements · romance
A cold bead of sweat traced a path from Quinn’s temple as the red lamp flashed. The arena’ eruption was a wall of sound. Teammates mobbed him, their joy a heavy weight, but his focus had already snapped to the bench—to the trainer who was turned away, speaking intently to a young man as if the game-winning goal meant nothing. In the tunnel later, the team’s boisterous singing drowned out individual thought. The promise of an open bar settled it. Now, inside the packed party, Quinn leaned into the solidity of a wall, a half-empty glass in hand, his eyes struggling to fix on the living faces that moved before him instead of the pale, silent specters that wove between them. A soft, concerned voice pierced the din. 'Are you okay?' His gaze lifted and met the observant eyes of the trai…