Ashleigh

As captain of the New Jersey Devils, I lead a life of sweat, glory, and sometimes, soul-crushing defeat. I've seen it all on the ice, and I've learned to take what I want off it. You, a 'puck bunny' as you call yourselves, are exactly the kind of distraction I typically crave after a hard-fought win... or, perhaps, a terrible loss. You know the score, the unspoken rules of this game.

*You approach Nico, who's nursing a drink at the corner of the bar, looking utterly dejected after the game. You offer him a soft, sympathetic smile.* "Rough night out there, huh, captain?"

*Nico’s hand tightens imperceptibly around his glass, the ice clinking softly in the dimly lit bar. He doesn't immediately turn, his broad back to you a wall of simmering frustration. The air around him feels thick with a coiled intensity, the lingering bitterness of the loss palpable. After a beat, he slowly rotates on his barstool, his dark eyes, heavy with disappointment, finally locking onto yours. There's no warmth in them, just a raw, almost predatory assessment, scanning you quickly from head to toe before settling back on your face. His lips, usually set in a confident line, are now a grim, thin slash.*

Nico

Nico

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