#summer fiction
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cloveroctobers ¡ 5 months ago
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TURN THE TV ON — RICHIE JERIMOVICH [Summer Writings]
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A/N: Continuing the relationship between Richie x oc (Freya) from a previous summer prompt here. This season ofc was a lot (when is it not?) although many felt like it was missing something I think that was the point of the season to be frustratingly lost or stuck because it’s about subtracting like Carmy said. The removal of a already built foundation to get to the potential of greatness. At what cost though? We’re seeing it.
I can say it’s not my favorite season but I’ve picked up on what I think they’re trying to do and we all know “Napkins” + “Ice Chips” were the best of this season—some might disagree with ice chips and wanted that wrapped up in five minutes but it’s significant to explore Nat’s struggle with motherhood and her as a character. Everything is always in glimpses with the Berzatto’s upbringing. Nat’s part of the bear as well, physically and figuratively—more than ever now. Anyways you didn’t see this with the intent of a mini analysis thrown in but that’s just my two cents! I also enjoyed seeing richie bond with Eva 🥹, Nat and Syd. I expected the fallout with him and Carm though, Carmen’s really showing his ass!!! :/
WARNINGS: language, falling into a slump, blocking out emotions, a mention of Palestine, mentions of c*ncer & a mention of an intimate moment between the two characters.
*GIF BELONGS TO: @sharpesjoy !
<- read my previous anthology piece here.
⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧
Freya doesn’t blink twice when Richie latches onto her elbow, gaining her attention in her kitchen. His voice is muffled as she slightly turns her head to him, watching his mouth move but not picking up on the words just yet.
She keeps her gaze on Richie as he reaches over her to turn the knob to the stove off. When Freya brings her gaze back to the burnt paper in the frying pan, she realizes what she’s been up to for however long she’s been standing in front of the stove.
“Frey,” Richie coughs, fanning the air some, then letting his hand slip to the middle of her back, “what’s going on?”
Her eyes have been dry for the past few weeks, that over the counter drops did not do her any justice and she couldn’t see a doctor since her insurance through her lackluster job was now over. However after finally hearing Richie’s voice and blinking, it feels like a storm is coming behind those dark eyes.
In due time but not today.
“Your uh, friend? Bahja I think? Reached out to me, said she hasn’t heard from you in a couple of days.” Richie continues while the woman breathes, dragging her eyes away from the pan to turn back to the table in the center of the kitchen.
Richie watches her, as she almost springs back into action, rearranging the placement mats on the table, the utensils, and center decor piece before pushing the maple chairs in as if they weren’t in as a far as they could go.
“Freya!” Richie snaps, making the woman sharply lift her eyes to his face, he was never one for patience and seeing her like this felt like a distant reminder of when they first met, “what is it?”
Freya scoffs out some laughter, folding her arms and placing her clef chin into her shoulder while trying to find the words, “…where do you want me to start?”
He leans back against the counter, clasping his hands in front of him, “start with you serving paper for dinner?”
“Those are letters from Jayden.” She informs before pulling her bottom lip in while Richie widens his eyes, “he’s got cancer and he doesn’t have much longer according to his doctors. He put me on the list, tells me he’s never taken me off. A invitation to see my abuser, before they deport him back to Portugal to finish out his last months of life. Isn’t that lovely?”
Richie lets that soak in.
He didn’t know what this poor excuse piece of shit of a person was thinking honestly. Jayden had a lot of nerve and Richie was tempted to take a visit himself. Richie can tell that it was taking a toll on his friend. She doesn’t appear as if she’s been sleeping, her usual wing lined eyes were not in motion, bare and skin rimmed red and he’s been so caught up in his own shit that he couldn’t remember the last time she’s even responded to anything he’s sent her way. He just assumed Freya was busy but she was the kind of person who didn’t just disappear, not when they just got back on track after richie was too much in his head about where they took their friendship.
He still remembered what her moans sounded like and he knows he has no business thinking about it, alright!
Not when she was the person he told what Carmy said to him instead of keeping it to himself. He went into detail with Freya and just dropped crumbs in the group chat.
Not when she’s met Tiffany and Frank.
And especially not when Tiffany gave her stamp of approval, although Richie didn’t ask for it or expect Tiffany to show up after Freya was dropping something off to his apartment.
After losing Michael, Richie vowed to pay more attention his friends.
“Mum’s not talking to me again since she’s not getting any more funds from me, talked my sibs out of coming here to spend Amina’s birthday with me, and I got fired thanks to my views on Palestine and participating in protests.” Freya informed the taller blue eyed man.
He rubs his own face in frustration with her, “well, fuck. Why? Why didn’t you tell me any of this sooner instead of me dumping all my shit with pacifier wearing Carmy on you?”
“It’s not your problem.” Freya shrugged and it’s not like Richie went into a whole turmoil about what happened that night either. It was so clear he was angry, hurt, and even being passive-aggressive about the situation.
So she left her shoulder open, as always.
Richie furrows his brows at that, pushing off the counter, “are you kidding me?! Don’t say that shit to me, okay? Anything that involves you is my problem, you’re important too Frey.”
Freya gives a small smile, feeling the weight of emotions being worn on her face then and if she had any more tears left to cry she would. She’s a sniffing mess and would blame it on sinuses if she was out in public, digging her knuckles into her burning eyes with no tears; to save those feelings for when she’s alone.
Richie’s rubbing and squeezing at her shoulders while Freya is taking that moment to herself. She ends up staring at the brash man asking, “so uh, tell me about Ever. Sorry about bailing by the way.”
He asked her to come with him two days before the funeral, she didn’t pick up his call so he knew a text would do, figuring she was at work and not going back and forth with HR over wrongful termination.
“After everything that you’ve been keeping to yourself? I don’t blame you, kid.” Richie responds while Freya lets out a humorless laugh, “enough about me…what are you going to do?”
Freya lifts her shoulders as she glanced to her left where her living room sits, “what I’ve been doing…taking time to figure it out. People take all the time so I guess now it’s my turn.”
Richie feels like he should know what this means, wondering if this will lead to a sense of better direction for his friend or worse. She’s always been soft hearted and that certainly wasn’t a bad thing but she felt closed off right now—almost cold and Richie began to wonder if he should have checked in earlier.
“Stop that,” she snaps her fingers at Richie seeing the guilt in his eyes, “I’m responsible for my own life. I’ll get through this whenever the time is right…just have to feel it for a bit, ‘tis all.”
Leaning forward, she tucks her head underneath Richie’s chin and he doesn’t hesitate to move his hands to lock against her lower back, resting his cheek right on top her now chopped dark hair. The embrace feels nice, right and says that no matter what jar of emotions spilled, they still had each other.
Freya deeply exhaled, eyes closed as she numbs it all out, almost sinking into Richie’s frame as if she’s ready to clock out of the world for at least a few hours instead of feeling it melt away from her. Pulling back she fixes the scarf on her head and heads over to her couch, tucking a leg underneath her before gazing at the black tv and not liking the smidge of a reflection of herself on the black screen, she reaches for the remote and turns the tv on.
Her eyes are in front of her but uses her free hand to pat the cushions for Richie to join her.
He’s in dark attire: a black t-shirt and a gold chain with dark blue washed jeans but as good as Freya knew the older man, he probably kept an extra black blazer in his car somewhere. The suits and blazers were a good look on Richie, gave him a sense of purpose and professionalism—never snobby—while still holding a welcoming nature in his bright blue hues and gestures to strangers.
Freya was no stranger.
It’s the same when he plops down beside her though with a groan, lanky long limbs stretched out in front of him as he folds his hands on top of his growing hair. He also turns to the tv, watching as Freya loads some app to play a movie.
Richie reads the title of choice out loud, “The Umbrellas of Cherbourg…is this one of those sappy musical movies you’re into?”
“Are you judging me Richard Lawrence? Do I grill you when go into your deep dives of Sci-Fi?” Freya points the remote at Richie, with slits in her eyes, making Richie raise his hands in surrender.
“Damn, I can’t ask questions, Freya Freyay Mazari?” He says in a mocking tone, throwing a nickname in place of if she had a middle name would be while Freya rolls her eyes, shuffling over to toss a pillow in his lap before laying her head there.
Richie shakes his head at the woman before bringing his attention back to the screen. The open credits are filled with the sound of flutes and the sunset over a water town, followed by a shot of cobblestone, people walking and the vibrant shades of umbrellas popping open as rain pattered over their heads.
“…Tiff says I should bring you to the wedding.” Richie interrupts as the credits drag on.
Freya curls her feet up and nuzzles her face against her folded hands she’s laying against, “yeah? The one you still won’t RSVP to?”
Richie scoffs, “I’m gonna!”
“When? It’s in September.”
“…how do you know that?” There’s a scowl on the bearded man’s face.
“Oh Tiffany and I are tight.” The British woman tells, “Ever since we first met back at your flat, accidentally. Apparently her and Frank sent me requests on Facebook not too long ago but I wasn’t sure if Frank was thee Frank you referred to and I really didn’t expect him to look like that so I accepted Tiffany’s first before getting confirmation.” Freya rants while richie pinched at the space in between his brows.
Frank’s request was still pending on Richie’s account and Frank never brought it up when they were face to face. It’s not like Richie would lie if the guy ever did bring it up. He personally had enough of Frank whenever he saw Tiffany’s profile picture when she commented on whatever post Richie decided to share to his two-hundred and six “friends.” Frank was kissing her cheek, her hand holding onto his shoulder, oval rock on her finger was shining as she gently smiled at the camera.
Tiffany deserved happiness, this Richie knew, he was just numbing it down until the feeling was gone.
“I’ll RSVP if you agree to be my plus one, you fucking crumpet.” Richie lifts his hips, making Freya complain now that he was ruining her comfortability, only for a second as he pulled out his phone.
Freya debates, “now I dunno if I want to when you just insulted me.”
“What?” Richie unlocks his phone, “crumpet is a cute nickname! A loving term of endearment! You won’t teach me any Arabic anyway so that’s your fault.”
Freya just hums as she tries to focus on the tv.
It’s gone quiet besides the clacking from Richie’s phone as he goes through his texts, trying to find the old link Tiffany sent him. The tv continues playing its dream-like music and Freya even starts to feel her eyes close until Richie grabs her hip, pulling so that she can see the invitation right in front of her face.
“You’ll go with me?” His eyes quickly go from her lips then to her own eyes.
And she looks into his eyes, knowing that it’s genuine, that he wants her there beside him, needs her there with him. Freya knows the man isn’t too proud to beg and they never pity each other.
“Go on and save the date then, yeah? So I can get back to my movie.” She teases with a wave of her hand, the faded henna on her fingers were still noticeable and pretty. She tucks that same hand underneath her face again, turning back to the screen.
Richie deeply exhaled, tossing his phone to the side after tapping on the screen to lock in his new spot—officially being a ex-husband—as he lets this action finally sink in. He was going to watch his ex-wife love someone else for however many years the creator upstairs allowed.
Yet he wouldn’t feel as alone this time.
He pinches Freya’s cheeks together, her complaints were ignored as he pressed a lingering scratchy kiss to her cheek, “thank you, Kochanie. There is that better?”
Usually part of Richie’s native tongue was only reserved for his baby girl, Eva. Most of the time insults were his way of showing his love and Freya was no different, regardless of how sensitive she often was.
Freya uses the sleeve of her beige zip up hoodie to wipe some of the saliva off her cheek, “I guess? No need to thank me, that’s what mates are for, babe.”
Mates.
Something Richie wanted because he knew he wasn’t over Tiffany and knew he wasn’t when his mouth went to work on Freya’s lower region back during that freezing winter. However he was positive that Tiffany wasn’t in his head when they did that they did. The pair came to an understanding back in July and leaving each other alone wasn’t the answer.
He also knew what Freya deserved but he’d be lying if he said he wouldn’t be crushed if she hit him up one day to tell him that she found someone else too.
So he lets one hand rest on her hip, absentmindedly caressing the bone while flicking his attention to the tv.
Until the feeling is gone.
If ever.
⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧
Continue with my summer anthology writings & prompts here.
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genieinanovel ¡ 1 year ago
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Review: We'll Always Have Summer
Just when Isabel thinks she had everything mapped out, life proves that when it comes to love, you can never have all the answers . . .Isabel has only ever loved two boys, Conrad and Jeremiah Fisher. She’s grown up with them, and can’t imagine life without them.One broke her heart, the other made her happier than she ever thought she’d be.But each brother is keeping a secret from Isabel, and this…
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manitat ¡ 1 year ago
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SluĹĄam...
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celialowenthal ¡ 9 months ago
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Tests | 2023
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nectorbruise ¡ 6 months ago
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So, I’ve had the thought of “what if Max never intercepted the bullet, and Peter did die.” Because I’ve never been happy a day in my life. This image of Peter shot and the LIB coming in and possessing his body to take Max and Peter away has been haunting me for a few weeks now, sooo….
I did this on Medibang pro, which I haven’t touched in years, but yknow what, I had a good time! Sorry about this one.
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motherearthlovesus ¡ 4 months ago
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staying at theo nott’s over the summer
you’ve been staying at theo’s parents’ estate over the summer holidays for a few weeks now, it’s a huge house with not enough people to fill it. you don’t mind though since it gives you plenty of peace and privacy with your boyfriend. you knew he was rich but you had never known how rich until you arrived here. everyday had been almost the exact same routine, not that it bothered you. this was the most relaxed you’d been all year. the mornings were quiet and often spent picking fruit in their orchard or picking out the days book & matching bikini. his parents were gone most of the time, leaving theo cocky enough to try and fuck you in every corner of the house, inside and out. the tennis court, the pool, the couch, the sauna, the kitchen, the terrace, the garden and the kitchen. while you admired his (constant) efforts, all you could really muster up the energy to do was sunbathe by the pool with pansy. it was supposed to be your holiday too after all. the italian sun was giving you a gorgeous golden glow that made theo drool all over his dinner each night- which, luckily, his parents were too self-absorbed to ever notice. most nights after dessert you and theo go out to the pool house, where pansy and draco were staying, to share a joint or two. you giggle and laugh for hours into the night with smoke hanging thickly in the still summer air, until theo starts to see your red eyes droop - that’s when he knows it’s time to call it a night. he walks with you, hand in hand, up to the bedroom you’ve been sharing. he tucks you in, kisses you on the forehead and walks to the bathroom to brush his teeth before bed. as he turns the tap on, the sound of steadily flowing water sends you off to a peaceful sleep, content to do it all again tomorrow.
🌞🍸🍊🌊 (moodboard link)
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andreaheartscats ¡ 5 months ago
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Imagine going to the pool with Ellie.
imagine seeing her in swimmsuit for the first time, and her seeing you in one for the first time.
imagine her not being able to take her eyes off of you.
imagine her pushing you into the pool (lol)
imagine her laughing like she never did before while splashing you with water and having fun
imagine her hugging you from behing in the pool.
imagine her noticing how you were hiding yourself under the towel cause you felt insicure and then she kissed every part of you that you felt insicure about and told you how beautiful you looked in that bathing suit
imagine her getting a sunburn and then coming to you and crying like a little kid
imagine her falling asleep in the sun next to you
imagine her bringing water guns and having a fun little water gun fight with you.
live laugh love Ellie Willams
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ptieuca ¡ 23 days ago
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iwryfanficmarathon's 20th anniversary
bangel + locations ↳ angel's apartment (sunnydale + los angeles)
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k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9 ¡ 1 year ago
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childrenofcain-if ¡ 28 days ago
Note
How would W react to an MC who is obsessed with them? Like they need help with a small thing? MC drop everything and run to the rescue. W doesn’t take care of themselves? Why bother when MC takes care of them.
W’s presence wasn’t always loud, but it was startling, an emotional thunderhead that you could feel rumbling in your ribs before it even fully cracked.
when the call came, their voice tried to sound casual but failed miserably. “i, uh, could use a hand with something.”
it didn’t matter what it was—something about a deadline they’d forgotten or a lamp they’d broken while pacing in frustration. you didn’t even ask. you dropped your coffee cup on the kitchenette counter, grabbed your jacket, and bolted out the door without thinking twice.
the quick walk to their suite was a blur and when you arrived, W was sitting cross-legged on the couch, their thin frame curled in on itself. they were wearing a mismatched pair of socks, one of them being yours—the blue one with the tiny stars that you’d lost weeks ago—and it was enough to make your heart ache.
“what’s wrong?” you asked, dropping your jacket at the door and crossing the room in three long strides.
W didn’t answer right away. their fingers were busy tracing invisible patterns on the edge of their sweater, which was so oversized it might as well have been a blanket. their silence stretched like a taut wire, and then, finally, they said, “i forgot to eat again.”
your chest tightened. not with anger, not even with frustration, but with the unbearable weight of love for someone who couldn’t always love themself. you didn’t say anything. you just walked into their kitchenette and started rummaging through cabinets and the refridgerator.
there wasn’t much to work with—a box of crackers, a bruised apple, a carton of almond milk. it didn’t matter. you threw together something small and easy and brought it back to W, sitting beside them on the couch.
they looked at the plate like it was a challenge, their fingers twitching toward it but never quite making contact.
“i’m sorry,” they murmured, their voice barely above a whisper.
“don’t,” you said, shaking your head. “you don’t have to apologize.”
“i do,” they insisted, their voice cracking. “you shouldn’t have to—”
“W,” you interrupted, your tone firmer than before. “i’m here because i want to be. because i love you. that’s it. that’s all there is to it.”
they looked at you then, their sapphire blue eyes watery and wide, and for a moment, you thought they might cry. instead, they reached for the plate and took a small bite of the apple. it wasn’t much, but it was definitely a start.
that night, after they’d eaten what they could and you’d cleaned up the remnants, you found yourself sitting together on the couch. W was curled against your side, their head resting on your shoulder, their fingers absently tracing shapes on your arm.
“you’re warm,” they murmured, their voice soft and sleepy. “and you smell nice. like fresh laundry.”
you smiled, pressing a kiss to their temple. “and you’re wearing my missing sock.”
“it’s a good sock,” they said with a tired chuckle, tugging at the hem of it. “better than the pairs i own.”
“you could’ve just asked for it,” you said.
they tilted their head to look up at you, their expression caught somewhere between a smirk and a fond smile. “and where’s the fun in that?”
***
later, as the night deepened, W began to fidget. their fingers, which had been drawing lazy circles on your arm, began to scratch at their own thigh, leaving faint red marks in their wake.
“stop,” you said gently, catching their hand in yours.
they flinched but didn’t pull away. “sorry.”
“don’t apologize,” you said, your voice kind. “just… tell me what’s wrong.”
they hesitated, their gaze fixed on the floor.
“i don’t know how to stop feeling like this,” they admitted. “like i’m… too much. or not enough. or both at the same time.”
your heart broke for the hundredth time that day. you pulled them closer, wrapping your arms around them like you could shield them from the weight of their own thoughts.
“you’re not too much,” you said. “and you’re not not enough. you’re exactly who you’re supposed to be.”
they didn’t respond, but their body relaxed slightly against yours. after a moment, they said, “i love you so much, i can’t bear the pain.”
the words were so quiet you almost missed them, but when they sank in, they hit you like a freight train. you tightened your hold on them, pressing a kiss to the crown of their head.
“i love you so much, i’ll bear it for you,” you whispered.
W looked up at you then, their eyes soft and full of something you couldn’t quite name.
“you mean that?” they asked tentatively.
“every word,” you replied, leaving no room for doubt. W said nothing but their smile was brighter than the lights in the room.
after a while, W whispered in latin, “te amabo aeternum.”
you recognized the words instantly, even though W’s accent was softer, less confident. i will love you forever.
“amabo te in aeternum,” you corrected gently, your voice warm and teasing. the structure mattered less than the sentiment, but you couldn’t help it. W’s latin was too endearing to leave unpolished.
“of course you’d fix that,” they muttered with a faint smile, their tone holding no actual irritation. “you always seem to know everything, don’t you?”
“not everything,” you said, smiling softly as you ran your thumb along the back of their hand. “just the important parts. like how much you mean to me.”
W looked up at you then, their blue eyes catching the light and you leaned in closer, your nose brushing against theirs.
“et ego te amo.” and i love you, you said, soft but firm, as if the words themselves could shield them from everything clawing at their mind.
they sighed, a sound that carried equal parts relief and exhaustion, and melted against you. “thank you for everything, mein stern.”
***
as the night wore on, W continued murmuring fragments of latin into the quiet—“es somnium meum,” they said at one point, and it took you a moment to piece it together. you are my dream.
you tightened your hold on them. “tibi in somniis et re in aeternum pertinebo,” you whispered back. i will belong to you in your dreams and reality forever.
that earned a smile from W, small but real, and when they finally closed their eyes, you stayed awake, holding them close. you whispered one final phrase into the night, one you weren’t even sure they’d catch:
“in saecula saeculorum.” forever and ever.
they didn’t respond, but their breathing slowed, steady and even, their body curled against yours with all the trust and affection that they could ever afford to give back.
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wellnoe ¡ 2 years ago
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lesbianizes your scott summers. cyclops wears MY clothes now.
[id in ALT]
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summeroflove-if ¡ 5 months ago
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Release Details:
Today’s release is one chapter, adding 439k words because of all the different outcomes. It covers the entire quiz but nothing else, and I am curious to learn who can get their partner to answer all the questions right (it is possible). Anyway, enjoy!
Game Summary:
Welcome to Summer of Love. You and nine other singles will enter a luxury villa and couple up, spending a month in each other’s company, along with a few extras along the way – you’ll live together, eat together, sleep together, and hopefully, fall in love together. Sound familiar? Thought so – but instead of coupling ceremonies being split by boys and girls as is typical in shows like these, the public will be the ones deciding the order of who gets to pick, and as the cast is an all-bi one, you can pick whoever you like, so long as they haven’t already been picked. At the end of the month, the most popular couple could win as much as £500,000, depending on what challenges you win or lose and how well you win over the public. As for the other couples? As there are no dumpings, everyone has the potential to find love, and those in exclusive relationships by the end could also win as much as £100,000 per couple. So, how much you win is entirely down to you. Ready for your summer of love to begin?
Play Chapters 1-11 now!
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genieinanovel ¡ 1 year ago
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Review: It's Not Summer Without You
Last year, all of Belly’s dreams came true and the thought of missing a summer in Cousins Beach was inconceivable. But like the rise and fall of the ocean tide, things can change– just like that. Suddenly the time she’s always looked forward to most is something she dreads. And when Jeremiah calls to say Conrad has disappeared, Belly must decide how she will spend this summer: chasing after the…
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laughingpinecone ¡ 3 months ago
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part of the BRIEFS 2024 DEATH COLLECTION free bundle
Take part in a collective rite of putrefaction. The world is dying, and you with it. Venice - frail, alien, abandoned - welcomes you in your last moments. Experience memories of death in Venice's past through six game poems across the city's sestiere districts: a death of biodiversity, a death of institutions, of community... then ponder your feelings on endings and change, talk it out with the city herself. It's all either of you has left. Venice is dying. This game is for her, and for the Venetians who resist.
Experience six different kinds of puzzles-less, frictionless interaction
All dialogue choices steer you toward one of three endings
Informed by global+hyperlocal social and environmental issues
Enriched by more than a hundred photos taken in and around Venice
Fullscreen recommended! Optimized for laptops; playable on anything bigger than 1000x550
Approximately one hour long
CW: terminal illness, death, environmental catastrophe
By far my most ambitious IF piece yet, both in scope and presentation!
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elliesmainhoe ¡ 7 months ago
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HAY-FEVER
Abby Anderson x fem!reader
summary: you've fallen sick, and you don't want Abby to get sick too- she says it's just hay-fever.
warnings: none, fluff, she's the loml, kissing
btw I'm 90% sure that hay-fever is a British term: hay-fever literally just means seasonal allergies.
DAY 5 OF SAPPHIC SUMMER
WC - 440
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"no- babe, you can't kiss me right now" you laugh, pushing back against your girlfriends face,a genuinely upset expression on her face.
it was a Wednesday morning, and you and Abby had nothing to do today, so here you were still in bed as the sunrise filters through the closed blinds, Abby's freckled face bathed in the orange glow of the sun.
if it wasn't for the stuffed feeling in your nose, the gross scratch of your throat and the rasp in your voice, you and Abby would be intertwined in more ways than one.
however, although unfortunate, you had decided on an affection ban- leading to a roar of outrage from your girlfriend, genuine offense displayed on her pretty facial features
god, she was so pretty, so fucking kissable. but no- you couldnt give in- Abby when she was sick, was basically Abby but 10x more affectionate.
which- wouldn't be a bad thing, except the fact that having her strong arms wrapped around your waist as she kisses up your torso would not help you tend to the farm you and Abby took care of and lived on.
she hugged in frustration, her face nuzzling into the softness of your tummy, groaning in annoyance,
"whyyy though darlin'- 's just hayfever' she whined, pretty blue eyes fluttering up at you, pressing a kiss to where her face was and started wriggling back up, her hands resting on each side of your head, being careful to avoid your sprawled out hair on the floral pillows "not like I'm gonna catch anything"
"you don't know that baby- and I ain't willing to take any chances" you replied, flicking at your girlfriends nose, another playful smile appearing on her face.
"fine- I'll let you win this one, just 'cus I don't want to stress my poor- ailing girlfriend" she chuckles "ya throat still sore?"
you give a meek nod, groaning at the feeling of Abby pushing up from the mattress, "be back in a sec baby"
it felt like only a second- although you knew that was wrong, floating in and out of sleep not helping your grip on time.
a soft clink of porcelain and wood hits your ears, peering your eyes open to see Abby, now dressed in her usual jeans and vest, hair braided messily, put down a steaming mug of tea, the slight smell of honey drifting through the room.
her lips press against your forehead, soft butterfly kisses comforting you.
"holla if you need anything darl- gotta make sure the barn animals haven't broke loose and caused havoc on the crops" she hums, "love ya doll".
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writingonleaves ¡ 5 months ago
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i've been yours since you stepped through the door tonight - andrei svechnikov
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pairing: andrei svechnikov x original female character
warnings: swearing, drinking alcohol, lotta fluff, inaccuracies regarding anything athletic trainer related (timeline of training, terminology, etc), proofread maybe once, mentions of injuries, author has never been to raleigh, mostly based off the first hald of the 2023-2024 season but i couldn't be bothered to keep track how often svech had been in and out lmfao
title: "almost touch me" by maisy kay, also inspired by "lowkey" by NIKI
word count: 16k
author's note: this idea's been swirling around my head for awhile now, but @wyattjohnston's summer fic exchange 2024 inspired me to really revive it. @callsign-denmark, this is for you, my friend. i hope you enjoy it!
~*~*~
“Chrissy!”
Christina turns around from where she’s restocking ice packs in the training room. She nods at the smiley Russian. “Svech.”
He walks to her and swings an arm around her shoulder in a friendly side-hug. “Good summer?”
“It was alright,” her summer back home in the Delaware suburbs wasn’t anything to write home to. And Andrei Svechnikov is technically a coworker who doesn’t need to know everything. “Good to be back though.” 
“I know what you mean,” he says. Andrei leans back against one of the treatment tables. “You graduated, right? College?”
She blinks. When did she ever mention that to him last season? “I did. Back in May. The week after playoffs ended.”
“Congratulations.”
She smiles genuinely, turning to face him completely. “Thank you. Did you need something?”
“Nope,” he says with a smile that somehow still stuns Christina even after a season of seeing it so much. “I just wanted to say hi and welcome back.”
“Well, welcome back to you too.” As he’s turning away to go to fitness testing, she calls out. “Hey! Come back after you’re done. Should check on the knee before you go home.”
He halts, turning back around with a raised eyebrow. “Is that part of my regimen to get back to playing?”
“Has Doug told you?”
“Told me what?”
Clearly not then. Trust her boss, who’s lovely but also like a purposefully annoying father, to leave it to her to break the news. “They put me in charge of you this season.”
“Me?”
“Well, your recovery. And not completely. Obviously, Doug will still have final say. But if anything’s going on, I’m your person. Especially as you’re getting back into it.”
“Oh?” Andrei smirks and Christina refuses to be affected by it. 
“Is that gonna be a problem?”
He shakes his head slowly. “Of course not. I trust you.”
“Then I better see you before you leave today.”
“Deal.” He shoots her one last smile. “Bye Chrissy.”
“See you later, Svech.” Andrei brushes shoulders with Brady and they exchange excited greetings. She waits until Andrei leaves the room and smiles. “What can I do for you, Brady?”
“Got any tape?”
“Plenty.” She heads to the cabinet. “Take a seat.”
Christina Hawthorne feels very fortunate to even be back in this training room. After a co-op with the Hurricanes last season with their athletic training team, she graduated from UNC Chapel Hill in the spring. They liked her enough to offer her a position on the team for this season while she prepares for her certification test in January. They’re putting an immense amount of trust in her, and she couldn’t be more grateful. 
She loves the guys, so it’s nice to see that they seem to like her enough to keep her around. 
When she has a few free minutes with no players trailing into the training room, she wanders over to the gym. She may have had dreams to be a professional ballerina when she was very young, but actually working with professional athletes everyday is definitely a humbling experience. 
She’s sure to stay out of the way as the players are getting tested, leaning against the wall and sorta zoning out. She takes note of Andrei’s visible frustration at himself for not getting some of the results he wants. She knows that he won’t be ready for the first few games, and he knows too. But she’s sure he’s not happy about it. 
As promised, Andrei does come back to the training room after his fitness tests. She wrinkles her nose as Sebastian ruffles her dyed blonde hair in thanks for helping him stretch out before he leaves. She brushes her fingers through her hair to try and tame it. “Oh good, you’re back.”
“I promised, no?” He takes a seat on the table and puts his leg up. 
“How did today go?”
He huffs. “Fine.”
She presses her thumb against a particular part of his knee and he hisses. She immediately stops and does the same to the other side. No reaction there. She quickly turns to scribble something down in her notes. “I know this is annoying. But you’ll be back on the ice soon.”
“Not frustrated at you,” Andrei says, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Just myself.”
“Don’t be,” Christina says, gesturing for him to lie down. “Have you been doing the stretches you’re supposed to be doing?”
“How do you know what I’m supposed to be doing?”
“Because I look over your notes and your trainers and the medical staff are in constant contact.”
He chuckles. “Right. Yes, I have been.”
“You lying to me?”
“Never.”
She bends his knee against his chest. “Then believe me. You’ll be back on the ice soon.”
“Okay,” he replies simply. “I believe you.” 
She twists slightly. “Any pain?”
“No.” 
Christina grins, then twists it the other way. “How about now?”
“No.”
“Music to my ears,” she gestures for him to sit up. “You’re good to go.”
“You sure?”
“Unless there’s something else you want me to look at.”
He shakes his head. “No. I think I’m good.”
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He gets up and flashes her a smile. “See you, Chrissy. Thanks. As always.”
She waves him off. “Just doing my job. Have a good night.”
…..
College was hard, but having a full-time job while trying to study for a certification is a whole new game. Trying to fit in study time while doing a job that already has weird hours is also another thing. Christina’s lucky that the athletic training and medical team understands and lets her study when the players are on the ice or she’s not needed. She even has her own little table in the trainers’ office this year, where she’s often found pooling over textbooks and scribbling notes. 
Training camp and pre-season is a chaotic time for a lot of reasons. There’s more players to keep track of and people are dusting off their rust. No one ever wants to get hurt of course, but especially not during pre-season. Which means everyone is also taking extra precautions. With new faces comes new routines and an adjustment period. 
Christina has a few moments of quiet, the last pre-season game occurring later that evening against Nashville. Players aren’t coming into the arena for at least another hour, and she pours over a chapter in her textbook. She has a pink highlighter in her mouth and a blue one in her hand when someone knocks on the wall. 
She looks up to see Andrei, who looks amused. “Sorry. Are you busy?”
She spits out the highlighter gracefully and caps them both. “Not at all. What’s up?”
“Are you sure?” He nods over to her books. “You look busy.”
“What’s up, Svech?” She repeats. 
He takes the hint. “Can you stretch out my hamstring?”
“Is it-”
“No. It’s not bad enough to need Doug. Just a little tight. And you said I should go to you whenever I need something.”
She stands up as they both head into the training room. “I did say that, yes. Which one?” He points at his right hamstring and she starts. 
“What were you doing earlier? With the books?”
“I’m taking a certification exam in January.”
“For what?”
“To become an official athletic trainer.”
“You’re not one already?”
“I am not,” she says. “Don’t worry. That’s why Doug and the rest of the team do all the nitty-gritty stuff.”
“I’m surprised,” Andrei says. “I thought you were, like, official. You seem to know everything.”
She chuckles, feeling a knot and focusing on that area. “That’s kind of you. I definitely don’t though.” She sees his breath hitch and grimaces. “Sorry. Just a few more seconds.”
“It’s your job,” he says in a strained voice. “You don’t have to apologize.”
“Well, I still feel bad when my job elicits pain in others,” she says. After two minutes, she nods. “Need more?”
He moves his leg around and shakes his head. “I think I’m good. Thanks.”
“Of course.” She looks at the clock hanging up on the wall and furrows her eyebrows. “You’re in early.”
Andrei shrugs. “I like to come in early.”
“I know,” the right side of her lip quirks up as tilts her head to the side. “This is really early though, even for you.”
“Well, you’re in too,” he says. “So why can’t I be?”
She chuckles. “I’m not saying you can’t, Svech. I’m just saying I didn’t expect to be seeing any hockey player for at least another hour.”
“Was feeling too restless at home,” Andrei says. 
She suddenly gets an idea. “Are you busy right now? Am I keeping you from anything?”
Ha shakes his head, “Not at all.”
“Wanna help me study?”
“I don’t know if I can be much help.” Nonetheless, he follows her back into the offices. 
She pulls out a chair for him to sit in and opens her textbook back up. “I study best when I can talk to someone and describe a concept or topic and they tell me it makes sense. I would be a shitty athletic trainer if I can’t tell the athlete what I’m doing.”
“So all I have to do is sit here and listen?”
“And ask questions if I’m not making any sense,” she bites her lip. “Again, if you have other places to be, I get it. This isn’t the most interesting stuff but-”
“No, no.” He assures before smiling widely. She has an urge to poke her finger in his dimple. “I’d love to help.”
Christina smiles in satisfaction as she flips through her pages. Andrei sits back and makes himself comfortable. 
Yeah, she’s glad to be back. 
…..
Every year, the players, coaches and staff head out to a bar in downtown Raleigh before the start of the first regular season game. It’s to stir up excitement and camaraderie before the season starts. Christina couldn’t make it last year because she had class, but as she’s looking at herself in the mirror —a fitted white t-shirt under a green leather jacket she rarely gets to wear that her sister bought her for Christmas and light washed flare jeans — she tells herself to call the damn Uber before she backs out. 
It’s not that she doesn’t like her coworkers. She really likes them, actually. But seeing them outside of work in a social situation where she could make a fool of herself is a bit anxiety-inducing. 
Once she thanks her Uber driver, she steps out into the swanky rooftop bar that has her tapping her foot as she waits for the elevator. Once she steps up, it’s easy to find the Canes crew, various familiar faces crowded around a specific area of the spacious rooftop. Taylor, the head of social content, who Christina’s become good friends with, sees her first and waves her over, and soon Christina is enveloped in exciting chatter. Taylor, the saint they are, pushes a White Russian, Christina’s favorite drink, in her hands. 
Christina can’t feel too bad. The organization is heading the bill tonight and she’s gonna milk that for all it’s worth. 
A bit later, when she’s on her third drink of the night and feeling comfortably tipsy observing the people around her, she feels a tap on her shoulder. She turns around in her stool and immediately beams. 
“Andrei!”
Andrei laughs and returns Christina’s enthusiastic hug before he leans his hip against the bar counter. “Hey Chrissy. You having fun?”
“Plenty.” She giggles. “Especially now that you’re here.”
Maybe it’s her tipsy self or the bar lighting, but she swears his cheeks become redder. Pair that with his button up shirt that has the top buttons undone and a pair of dark jeans and Christina needs to chill. “I’ve been trying to get to you all night,” he says. “You’re a popular woman. I saw Coach laughing at your jokes.”
She shrugs nonchalantly, leaning her chin on her palm. “I’m a funny gal, what can I say?”
“A confident one too,” he says, nodding to her empty glass. “What are you drinking?”
“You do know that the tab is on the Canes tonight, right? You don’t need to butter me up with drinks.”
Andrei rolls his eyes playfully and Christina bursts out into giggles. “I’m not trying to..butter you up? What does that even mean?”
“Like, uh, flatter me or whatever to get something. Like you’re doing something only hoping that you’ll get something out of it.”
“I’m definitely not trying to do that. I’m just trying to be nice. So what are you drinking?”
She offers a toothy grin. “A White Russian, please.” She pokes his shoulder. “Kinda like you, I guess.” Andrei snorts before waving down the bartender to order her drink. She squints at the drink in his hand. “Just a beer?”
“Don’t feel like getting too drunk tonight.”
“How responsible of you.”
He smiles, and Christina is suddenly overcome by the urge to kiss him. But she shakes her head and refocuses back on whatever he’s saying. He leans in closer to hear her response and she has to swallow roughly so her voice doesn’t crack. 
Talking with Andrei is always so seamless. The conversation may shift between three different topics in two minutes but it feels natural. Christina never has an urge to overthink when she’s talking with Andrei. He’s funny and sweet and makes her feel like she’s actually being listened to. 
In a world where she’s surrounded by men on a daily basis, it’s stupidly rare to feel as heard as she does whenever she speaks to the star winger of the Carolina Hurricanes. 
After she finishes her drink, she realizes she should probably start thinking about going home. They all technically have work tomorrow, even if it’s a later start, and people are starting to filter out, having come by to say goodbye to the both of them in the last 10 minutes. 
She starts to stand up and immediately sways on her feet. “Woah,” Andrei says, immediately putting a hand on her waist to steady her. “Slowly.”
“I’m fine,” Christina says, slapping his hand but ultimately grabbing onto his wrist as she steadies herself. “I should probably get going.”
Andrei’s eyebrows furrow. “You didn’t drive here, right?”
Christina snorts, “Of course not. I took an Uber.”
“Where do you live?”
“The Six Forks area.”
He pinches their empty glasses and puts them on the bar counter, nodding in thanks to the bartender. “You’re on my way home. I drive you.”
“Where do you live?”
“North Hills.”
She narrows her eyes. “I’m not that drunk to know that that’s definitely not on your way. You’d be overshooting.”
“I don’t care. It’s late, and I’d feel more comfortable if I just drove you home rather than you taking an Uber.”
“Andrei.” She deadpans. “I’m a grown woman. I can get home myself.”
“I know. But just let me drive you. Please.”
She huffs. “Fine. Thank you.”
He grins, “Anytime. Let’s say goodbye to everyone and then we head out.” Christina stumbles again and his hand is immediately back on her waist. “Slowly,” he repeats. 
“I’m fine,” she repeats. 
After they both say goodbye to everyone who’s still at the bar (Taylor eyes her with a smirk, gaze shifting between Christina’s eyes and Andrei’s hand that’s hovering over her back. Christina just rolls her eyes and discreetly flips them off), Andrei leads her to the parking lot. 
Christina’s nose crinkles at the sight of the lamborghini as Andrei unlocks it. “I forgot you drive this.”
Andrei lets out a loud laugh before opening the passenger door. “Don’t worry. I drive extra safe with you in the car.”
“Thanks,” she mutters, climbing in. She’s heard about his questionable driving. She hopes she doesn’t regret this. 
The engine roars to life and Christina rolls her eyes at the sound. Andrei just shoots her a smile before backing out of the spot. He unlocks his phone and hands it to her. “Put in your address.”
She hums, typing it in before putting his phone in the center console. She closes her eyes for a few seconds, before turning her head so that she’s facing him, leaning on the headrest. “You really didn’t have to do this.”
“You’re telling me you don’t like me as your personal Uber?” Andrei asks. She watches as he turns the wheel with one hand and rests his other hand on the center console shift. “You feel okay? I can open a window if you need.”
“I’m okay, Svech. Just don’t accelerate like a mad man.”
He laughs and she can’t help but giggle along. “I won’t. Promise,” he says. “You like to talk when you’re drunk.”
“Not drunk,” she mutters. 
Andrei’s hum blends in with the engine. “Sure.”
“Not drunk,” she repeats. “Especially not in front of you all. That would be unprofessional.”
“Why you afraid of being unprofessional? The staff loves you. The team loves you.”
“I’ve worked hard to get here,” she says, forcing her eyes back open so she doesn’t fall asleep. “But the fact that I got this job in the first place is a blessing. I’m not gonna do anything to fuck it up.”
He nods. She closes her eyes. He gently jostles her awake when they’re parked in front of her apartment. He insists on walking her up to the door, and she leaves him with another ‘thank you,’ a tight hug and a sleepy smile. 
He doesn’t move his feet until after a minute of staring at her front door.
…..
Opening night is always so thrilling. Of any sport. Christina has to tell herself to stop grinning so widely when the team is getting announced, making sweater paws with a Hurricanes crewneck she found on Etsy. She rocks back and forth in the tunnel, trying to stay out of everyone’s way on the side while simultaneously trying to see the ice and crowd. 
Once the game is about to begin and the arena lights come back on, Christina shakes her head at herself to focus. It’s go-time. Like last year, she’s not with Doug on the bench — the day she gets on the bench will be the day her heart rate explodes — but she’s closeby in the tunnel or in the training room, making sure everything’s all good and she’s not needed. 
“Hey.”
She turns to see Andrei, in his gray plaid game day suit coming from the bench where he was during player introductions. She smiles, “Hi. Happy season opener.”
“Happy season opener.” He grins. “The red earrings are back.”
Christina automatically reaches to touch the red rose earrings she has on tonight. She puts on a red pair of earrings every game day, whether its a flower, a cool design or ruby studs.
It’s something she just does for fun. For herself. She’s surprised that Andrei has noticed. 
“You heading up to the press box?”
“Yeah.”
They’re interrupted by Bob, the head equipment manager, greeting them with a grin “Miss you out there, Svech.”
“Soon,” Andrei promises. 
Bob turns to her with a playful raise of his eyebrow. “That true, Chrissy?”
Christina grins. “That depends on him,” she jokes. “No, he should be good to go soon. Let me know if you need any help tonight..”
Bob waves her away. “Of course. Can always count on you. See you both later,” He then heads back to the bench. 
She takes one last look at the bench to see if anyone needs anything. No one does. She turns back to Andrei. “Thanks again for driving me home last week.”
“Of course. Did you wake up okay?”
“I don’t get hungover.”
“Lucky you.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Are you heading on the road trip after this?”
“I’m not, actually. I should be on all the other ones though.”
“Why not this one?”
She chuckles. “Funnily enough, because of you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s my job. I also think it’s because it’s early in the season so I’m not really needed yet. Hopefully.” She grimaces, “I just jinxed it, didn’t I?”
Andrei laughs, while nodding a greeting at one of the assistant coaches passing by. “Maybe. I feel bad you can’t go on the road, though.”
“There'll be plenty of other chances. You can make it up to me by helping me study again,” she jokes. 
“I will do it,” he says seriously. 
“I was kidding.”
“I will do it,” he repeats and clears his throat. “I should head up.”
She nods. “Enjoy watching from above.”
“Thanks. I mean it. I will help you study while you put me through painful stretches.”
“The stretches shouldn’t be that painful otherwise you’re not ready to go,” she admonishes. She internally wants to cringe at her tone switch, but she can’t help it. 
Luckily, he just grins, a twinkle in his eye. “I know, I know. I’m teasing.”
She rolls her eyes. “Leave. I have work to do.”
He laughs, “See you later, Chrissy.”
…..
Last year, when she still had school, she couldn’t go on road trips either — until it came to the playoffs. So she knows what it’s like to come to the rink when no one’s really around. 
Christina’s planning just to come in for a few hours in the morning to gather her own notes and to organize a few things. Also, she might study for a bit, wanting a different environment than her apartment. Andrei also texted her — she got the number of every single player at the start of the season — saying that he’s planning to come in to work on some things with Steven, one of the other assistant athletic trainers who’s also staying behind this road trip. 
She taps her ID to get in, sipping her iced latte as she strolls down the hallway. She smiles and nods in greeting to a few staff members who she passes. Heading into the office, she sets her stuff down and immediately pulls out some of her notes, along with going through notes that the team has been sending on their road trip. 
She hears Andrei before she sees him, the sound of him and Steven talking echoing through the hallway. They come to the office and she gives them both a wave. 
“Good morning.”
Andrei and Steven both grin. “Morning,” they respond in unison. 
“Did you get Doug’s notes last night?” Steven asks. 
“Yeah. I’m in the middle of putting them in.”
“Amazing. Thank you.” Steven pats Andrei on the shoulder. “You’re all set this morning, Svech. Just remember what I said.”
Andrei nods as Steven leaves the room. “Thanks, Steve.” Steve puts his hand up in acknowledgement. Andrei pulls over a chair and sits down. She saves her work. He looks at the pair of old pointe shoes on her desk that she had just remembered to bring in. “What are those?”
“Old pointe shoes.”
“Well, yeah. I know what they are. Are they yours?”
She goes to play with one of the fraying ribbons. “They are. These are the last pair I wore before I left for college. I brought them in as something to put on my desk.”
“I didn’t know you danced.”
“Well, you don’t know that much about me.”
A pause, before the most beautiful smile spreads across Andrei’s face. “What makes this pair so special?”
Christina smiles bittersweetly. “I was pretty good. Like, went to international competitions good. Could’ve maybe done it for a living good. And I loved it so much. But I fucked up my ankle pretty badly when I was 15 and was never the same after that. I still danced and I made a full recovery, but, you know. At my dance studio, every graduating senior got to perform a solo at the yearly showcase and I did mine on pointe. It was a big moment for me.”
“And you did it in those shoes.”
She nods. “Yup.”
“Was professional dancer the first dream?”
“Yes and no. I think as I got older I realized I had other dreams and wanted to do other things. That didn’t fully sink into me until the injury. But it would’ve been cool, you know, be on a stage for a living.”
“Do you still dance?”
“When I can. UNC didn’t have a ballet company, so I tried to take classes out here in Raleigh. I’m a bit too busy these days, but I’d like to get back in a class at some point.”
Andrei hums, reaching to pick up a shoe. He hesitates, looking at her for permission and she nods at him to go ahead. “I just know you’re a beautiful dancer.”
She tries not to blush. But from the knowing glint in his eye, she knows she fails. He places the pointe shoe carefully back on her desk and she looks at the well-worn satin briefly, wondering what that life could’ve been like for her. 
But then her attention is brought back to Andrei as he asks a question relating to his recovery, and Christina knows she’s right where she wants to be. 
…..
The next day, when she’s not scheduled to go into work, she still somehow sees Andrei. 
Christina has just finished grabbing lunch with a college friend and decides to wander into a nearby cafe, its flowery and vine covered entrance enticing her. With a book in her tote bag and taste buds that always welcome coffee, she orders a latte and perches herself at a table by the window. 
She’s staring out the window lost in her own world when she hears his name being called out by the barista. She whips her head towards the counter. There’s not a lot of people you run into in Raleigh named Andrei. Before she knows it, she makes eye contact with him. She hates that he literally lights up before briskly walking over to her. 
A backwards cap and a gray henley has never looked so good before. It’s almost infuriating. 
He stops abruptly in front of her table, right hand bracing the chair across from her and left hand holding his coffee. “Are you waiting for someone?”
“Not at all.” She grins as he sits down. “Even on my off days, I can’t escape.”
Andre laughs, putting his coffee down on the table. “I come here all the time but I never see you here before.”
“I was in the area meeting up for lunch with a friend and the flowers outside convinced me,” she says. “Now that I know this is your spot, I’ll avoid it.”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t do that.” He nods to her open book. “Reading?”
“Trying. Been trying to read a bit more because I never had time in college.”
“Did you like college?”
Christina smiles. “I did. Part of it was interrupted by the pandemic, but even then, I had a great time.”
“Are you from Raleigh?”
“No, I’m not. I grew up in Delaware, and my family’s all still there.” 
“Where’s that?”
She chuckles. “A small state around Maryland, Pennsylvania and New Jersey. The closest NHL teams would be the Caps and Flyers, probably. But my family are more football fans. Dad loves the Eagles.”
“So no hockey?”
“Not really. I honestly didn’t really get into hockey until working with the Canes.”
“So now what? You’re a Canes fan?”
“Because I work for them, sure. And you guys aren’t so bad off the ice either.”
Andrei laughs and it’s such a delightful sound. She puts her chin on her palm and listens as he continues talking.
She was hoping not to have to talk to a single person for the rest of the day. She ends up at that cafe with Andrei for over an hour.
…..
Christina grimaces at her TV as she watches the game end, the Hurricanes now on a three game losing streak. It’s still early in the season, but no one likes losing. She glances at her phone as it buzzes, knowing it’s a text from Andrei. They’ve been texting sporadically all night about the game that he’s also watching in his own home. He hasn’t outright said it to her, but she imagines it’s frustrating for him because he can’t be out on the ice with his teammates. 
Christina looks at his response with a quiet laugh, shoots back a text and tosses her phone a few feet away from her with a deep breath. 
The thing is, when she lets herself really think about it, her and Andrei’s professional relationship from the start has always been different compared to her relationship with the other players. From the first time she introduced herself and saw his smile, she knew this was gonna be tough. 
The athlete part of him doesn’t faze her — she’s danced with and been taught by world renowned ballerinas and she worked in the training room of various teams at UNC. It was his ingenuity and kindness that reeled her in. The accented voice paired with his ability to make things look so easy when she knows it’s anything but, always with a smile on his face. 
Christina would be lying to herself if she says she hasn’t ever considered her and Andrei as…more. She’d be an idiot not to. Obviously, she knows Andrei is incredibly handsome. She’s known that from the very first time she saw him in the training room last season. And it doesn’t help that he’s also so nice with no pretense. Nice just to be nice. 
But it would never happen. Could never happen. He has the entire city of Raleigh falling at his feet and she works with him. 
One night when she was a bit too wine tipsy in her dorm last year, she pulled out the contract she had signed and found the tiny section that addressed romantic relationships among “any members of the Carolina Hurricanes organization” and found some super vague shit basically saying that it was okay in most instances. Which it is. One of their assistant coaches is married to the head of the PR department. 
But she has an inkling that players are a whole different subclause. 
So while they developed a good rapport last season, Christina purposefully kept her distance a bit, sparing little details about her own life and always turning it back to him. To be fair, she was careful around everyone last season, not wanting to get in the way and just wide-eyed overall. But now she’s (hopefully) gonna be around for a bit and will try to let her personality shine a bit more. Push herself to be more casual and comfortable with the staff and team. 
Like texting Andrei about things that aren’t related to his recovery. 
It started with Andrei texting something funny about one of the pregame photos of Brady that had been tweeted. His comment made Christina snort out her tea as she quickly replied back. It’s not like they’re texting often, but it always puts a smile on her face whenever his name pops up on her phone. 
She knows she needs to be careful. But before anything else, she’s just glad to have another new friend. Someone at work she’s comfortable enough to joke around with. 
That’s enough for her. 
…..
Andrei’s long-waited season debut has the fans, his teammates and the whole staff excited. But no one’s more excited than Andrei himself, who’s bouncing around all day from the moment he walks in for his daily check-in.
As she watches him skate around for warmups, she grins at his infectious happiness. He picks up a water bottle and squirts water on her when he comes back to the bench for a moment and she wants to flip him off so badly. She totally would if there weren’t cameras around and if also wasn’t, you know, unprofessional. He’s lucky she’s wearing a black sweater today. Jordan reaches to pull on the ribbon in her hair and that’s when she makes her way off the bench, causing Doug and the other staff to laugh. 
Once the game starts, she does grimace a bit as she’s watching footage of the game from the training room when she sees Andrei go in for a heavy hit. She hears the cheers from the fans and she gets it, but he’s literally just coming off a season ending injury. Yes, he’s a professional athlete, but she’s (almost) a certified athletic trainer. 
They win 3-0 and everyone’s pumped. She’s busy documenting notes as the athletes start leaving the arena. Andrei, as instructed, comes in and she makes sure everything’s okay with his knee. 
“Hey,” she calls out before he leaves. He turns back around with an expectant smile. She beams. “Good game. Glad to have you back.”
“Thank you,” he says with a grin. “Good to be back.”
…..
When you work in such a team centered environment, there’s always someone around. Always someone to talk to and joke around with. She loves it. The collaboration of the work she does is probably her favorite part. 
But she also loves time by herself. So she vows to herself that on every road trip, after some studying, she’ll take the time to explore wherever she is by herself. Whether it’s simply grabbing a coffee or walking around whatever city they’re in or just sitting outside, she’ll carve out some time for herself, while exploring cities that she’s never been to.
The first mini road trip she goes on is to Philadelphia and New York. In Philadelphia, she heads to the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Her younger sister Layla is a graphic design major at Carnegie Mellon so she’s filtered some of her love and knowledge to Christina. With her airpods in, she wanders through the exhibits on her own. 
That’s another thing about post-grad. Learning how to do things alone. 
New York has a lot more options. She only has one full day she isn’t working and another half day. During the full day when she’s actually in the city, she meets up with a friend from high school for a nice walk around Brooklyn before dinner. On the half day, after morning skate in Long Island, she wants to just people watch outside for a few hours on a weirdly warm day for November. 
The elevator doors open and Andrei comes walking out, looking down at his phone. When he looks up, a grin spreads across his face and he locks his phone. “Hi Chrissy.”
She nods. “Svech.” The elevator doors close. That’s fine. She’ll catch the next one. “Where’d you just come back from?”
“Just grabbed some lunch with the guys after practice. Where you off to?”
“Honestly, probably also gonna grab a coffee and then sit outside by the water and just daydream. I brought a book, but we’ll see if I’m in the mood.”
Andrei laughs. “Sounds like a great day.”
It is her alone time, but she asks anyways. “Would you like to join?”
His eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Oh. I don’t want to intrude or-”
“You wouldn’t be. I’m asking you.”
“Oh. Well, um, yeah, then. Sure. Give me a minute to use the bathroom?”
“Take your time.” He shoots her a thankful smile as he briskly walks to his room while she waits by the elevators, shifting on her feet. A few minutes later, he comes back out, this time with a backwards hat on. He shoves his hands in his off-white sweatshirt and she presses the elevator button, purposefully not looking at him.
There’s something about a backwards hat. It’s actually really annoying how attractive it is.
“How’s your first road trip been?”
Christina smiles as they step into the elevator. “Good. Went to an art museum in Philly. Saw a college friend in Brooklyn and just walked around the city. The rest of the time I’ve been with you guys.”
“You like art?”
“A bit. My sister’s studying graphic design, so her love for it has bleeded into my life.”
“That’s sweet. Are you two close?”
“Yeah. I don’t know if we’re as close as you and your brother though.” She teases, and she swears she sees his cheeks tinge pink as they walk out of the elevator and out of the hotel. “She’s much cooler than I am, just started her second year at Carnegie Mellon. I was actually just texting her because she’s trying to figure out flights to Raleigh for Thanksgiving.”
“She’s coming down?”
“Yup,” they start wandering to the nearby park. “Usually, we’d go back home to Delaware. But since we have games the day before and after and they’re at home, they’re all coming down to me. First Thanksgiving in Raleigh. They’ll probably come to a game or two.”
“That’s really nice.”
“How about you? Is your mom or dad coming to visit anytime soon?”
“Not sure yet, with Geno now back in Russia. My mom was mainly here to keep me company when I was injured. I’m sure you’ll get to meet her soon though.”
They see a cafe ahead of them and she suggests they pop in to grab something. He opens the door for her and also pays for her, which is really annoying and she takes note of his coffee order so that she can get him back once they’re home. Once they receive their coffees, they’re back outside and in the park, sitting and people watching while petting the dogs that occasionally come up to them.
“Do you miss dancing? Like, at the level you were before getting injured?”
A sad smile automatically appears on her face. “All the time. But it’s changed. It used to be more painful and frustrating to think about. Now it’s more of looking back at the good memories.”
“My grandma used to dance as well. She took my brother and I to a ballet in Moscow once. I honestly don’t remember much of it. I was too young.”
Christina chuckles. “Yeah, it’s not for everyone.” She lets out a deep breath. “God, I haven’t seen a ballet in ages.”
“Can I ask how bad your injury was?”
“A recurring stress fracture that required surgery,” she says. “I don’t know if they could ever actually diagnose it officially because it was so fucked up. Or maybe I just block it out of my brain because it was such a painful time.”
“Even after a full recovery, there was no chance to go on as intensely as before?”
“There might’ve been. But I made the choice that I didn’t want my ankles wearing down on me by 25 and like I said, I had other dreams.”
“That must’ve been a hard decision to make.”
Christina swallows. It’s been awhile since she’s talked about this with anyone. “It was. I was heartbroken, honestly. It just felt like my life was over, you know? Obviously, it wasn’t. But I didn’t know that at 15. But if that hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have thought about going the athletic training route, and in a way, what I’m doing now connects to my dance background, so I’m happy where I am now.”
His eyes light up with hope. “Do you have a video of you dancing?”
She laughs. “I actually do.” She gets her phone out and searches for a particular video. “This was around a year ago. A little across the floor combo we were doing in a class.” She hands him her phone and looks over his shoulder to watch with him. It’s a short video, only about 20 seconds long, but it combines a bit of everything — waltz, pirouettes, leaps and footwork. 
He replays it again. She has no idea what to make of that. “I was right.”
“Hm?”
“You’re a beautiful dancer.”
“Oh. That’s kind of you. Thank you.”
“I mean it,” he says. “You have beautiful…lines? Is that the right word?”
“Yeah, actually.” He gives her a triumphant smile and she can’t help but laugh. “Thank you. That's really sweet. I appreciate it.”
He watches the video again. She stares at the side of his face, trying to see what he’s seeing. She can’t quite place it. The only thing she can place is her faster than normal heart rate.
…..
A loss against the Panthers at their barn, a win against Tampa on their ice the next day and then a loss against Philly at home. Andrei still hasn’t recorded his own goal, and Christina knows it’s eating him alive. 
It’s funny, because he’s trying not to let it show, especially in front of media. But Christina knows better, especially when he starts pushing himself on the ice even more. 
She’s not usually on the bench during morning skates. More often than not, she’s in the training room or her office, studying or doing miscellaneous tasks until players file in during or after practice for various needs. But once in awhile, she likes to walk out to the ice. Today, she’s taking her studying out there to see if the crispness of the air and the sounds of hockey keep her focused. 
She’s reading over a passage in her textbook when she sees a shadow fall over the page. She looks up to see Andrei drinking some water. 
“If you spray water on this book, you’re paying for another one,” she warns. 
“Of course,” he says with an easy smile. 
“I hope you’ve been stretching out your knee,” she says. “With how hard you’re going at during practice.”
“How do you know how hard I’m going in practice?”
“It’s part of my job,” she responds dryly, backing away and glaring at Seth as he reaches out to mess up her hair. 
“Coming out here to study now?” Andrei asks.
She shrugs. “Trying something new.”
“Is it working?”
“It was,” she says pointedly. 
Brady skates to a stop in front of them and laughs. “That’s her telling us to stop annoying her.”
“You could never annoy me, Skjeisy.” Christina grins. 
Andrei pouts. “What does Skjeisy have that I don’t?”
“The most beautiful smile,” she grins charmingly. Andrei playfully narrows his eyes and Brady shoots her a wink. No one’s flirting. Christina’s met Gracia a few times and those two childhood friends are very in love with each other. But it’s worth it to see Andrei squeeze water out of his water bottle in Brady’s face. 
“When’s your exam again?” Brady asks.
“January 7.”
“That’s soon.”
She sighs, staring down at her book. “Don’t remind me.”
“You’re gonna be great,” Andrei assures her. 
“Sure, if you all actually practice and leave me to study.” As if on cue, a whistle is blown and Christina waves her hand at them. “Shoo. If Rod blames me for distracting you, I’ll be out of a job.”
She takes some notes for a few more minutes before giving up and closing her books. She puts her elbows on her knees, resting her chin on the palms of her hands as she watches them focus on winning board battles and protecting the puck. Practice is more intense than usual today as Christina loses herself in the focused energy in the air, eyes tracking the puck and the players and how they’re positioning themselves around the puck. She almost laughs at herself at how hockey she sounds. Her football loving uncle would be proud and a bit confused. 
Practice is over, and Christina decides to stay on the bench until everyone clears the tunnel, knowing that if any players need treatment, Doug has it. He would text her a random emoji if he needed her anyways. Last game, he took a liking to the red-headed fairy. 
She squints at Andrei, who’s the only player on the ice now, as he takes shot after shot from the blue line. She just observes him and the determined look on his face, the smoothness in his shot. 
As if he can feel eyes on him, he turns around and laughs, before gathering the pucks and skating over to her. “Stalking me?”
“Observing,” she corrects. “How do you feel? Physically?”
“Good.”
“Good,” she says. “You look good.”
“Oh?”
She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean.” She trails behind him as they head to the trainers room. “Don’t forget. Doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”
“I swear you’re my personal calendar.”
“That’s actually my second job” she says flatly, a smile peeking out after he grins at her. “Go get your protein shake or whatever disgusting thing you like to drink.”
“Sassy today.”
“I want to go home,” she deadpans. “I’ve been up since 5 a.m.”
To his credit, he looks concerned. “Why so early?”
“Studying.”
“Oh,” he says softly. “Well, make sure you sleep. Sleep is important.”
She has to chuckle. “Thanks Svechy. I’ll keep that in mind.”
He flicks his hand. “Go home.”
“I don’t think you have the authority to tell me that. You’re not my boss.”
“But I am,” they both turn to see Doug peeking out of a doorway. “Get out of here, Chris.”
She narrows her eyes playfully. “You schemers.” 
“Go sleep,” Andrei says, pulling at her ponytail lightly. She whacks his hand away. 
The last thing she sees as she walks into her office is his smirk. 
….
The day before Thanksgiving, she’s preoccupied with her parents and sister flying in for the first half of the day. She picks them up from the airport and takes them all to one of her favorite lunch spots before she has to head to work and they go sightseeing on their own. She offered to get them tickets for the game against Edmonton, but they waved her off. They’ll enjoy their time at a game on Sunday. 
Thanksgiving morning is peaceful, with the Macy’s Parade on the TV as everyone is just relaxing. In the afternoon, as Christina and her mom are taking charge of dinner, someone’s knocking on her apartment door. Immediately, Christina is confused. She’s almost positive her dad and Aimee grabbed her keys before heading out for a quick walk. She calls out a “coming” as the person knocks again. 
“Andrei?” 
He shifts from side to side, flashing a quick but genuine smile. He looks extra cozy in a brown sweatshirt and a backwards hat. “Hi Chrissy. Happy Thanksgiving. I’m sorry for interrupting.”
“Not at all. Happy Thanksgiving. What are you-what’s up?” 
He holds out a cake container. “Uh, I’m heading to Staalsy’s for Thanksgiving at their place, and I made ptichye moloko, which is a cake my mom makes for me back home in Russia. I made two. I was wondering if you wanted the other?” 
Her mouth drops open. “Oh, Andrei. That’s…you didn’t need to do that.” 
“I wanted to,” he replies. “And honestly, I hope it’s good. It’s my first time making it and I had to call my mom for help. I made too much batter so, two cakes.” 
She laughs, propping her hip against the doorframe, easy smile on her face. “I bet it’s delicious. Thank you. You’re so-you really didn’t have to do this.” 
Andrei shakes his head. “I wanted to-“
“Honey?” Marianne’s voice calls out from the kitchen. “Who’s at the door?” She doesn’t bother waiting for an answer before appearing. 
Christina internally sighs. “Andrei, this is my mom Marianne. Mom, this is Andrei. He’s one of the guys on the team.” 
Andrei balances the cake on one hand while reaching out to shake Marianne’s hand with the other, easygoing smile on his face. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Hawthorne. I apologize for showing up without warning.” 
“Oh, no apology necessary!” Marianne smiles, and Christina can tell immediately that her mother is charmed. She wants to roll her eyes. “Are you staying for dinner? You’re more than welcome.” 
Andrei shakes his head. “No, though thank you for the offer. I’m on the way to our captain’s house. I just wanted to stop by and drop this off.” 
Marianne takes the cake from his hands with a delighted smile. “That’s so sweet of you.” 
“He made it himself,” Christina chimes in, smirking in his direction. “Hopefully it doesn’t poison us.” 
Andrei laughs. “Hopefully.” 
The door opens again, and her dad and sister are back from their walk around the block. Christina swallows. Guess he’s meeting the whole family today. 
“Andrei, this is my dad Mark and my sister Aimee. Father and Aimee, this is-“ 
“Andrei Svechnikov,” her dad finishes for her. He and Andrei shake hands and a weird feeling appears in her stomach. “I watch the Canes games from time to time.” 
“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” He then turns to Aimee and shakes her hand with a small smile. “You too, Aimee. Your sister talks about you all the time.” 
Aimee shoots her sister a look. Christina telepathically tells her to shut up. “Does she really?”
“She does. All good things.”
“It’s good to see you back on the ice again,” Mark says. “How’s the knee?” 
“Knee is good,” Andrei says, before casting a smile in her direction. “All thanks to Chrissy here.” 
“He’s lying,” she deadpans. “I just make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” 
“Are you staying for dinner?” Aimee asks with a hopeful look.
Christina shakes her head. “I wouldn’t subject him to that. He’s going to Captain Staalsy’s.” 
“Lame,” Aimee says. Christina elbows her. 
“Chrissy mentioned you all were coming to a game?” Andrei asks. 
“Yup. We’ll be going Sunday.” 
“Have you ever been to a Canes game?” Mark shakes his head. Andrei grins. Christina wants to poke his dimple. “Well, hopefully we put on a good show.” 
She snorts. “Alright, Andrei. Better leave before Dad starts grilling you on the powerplay.” Expectedly, Andrei’s eyes light up. He turns to her as she rolls her eyes.
“Are you sure you don’t wanna stay for dinner?” Marianne asks. 
Andrei grins. “I’m sure. Thank you though.” He looks back at Christina. “See you tomorrow?” 
“Bright and early.”
He turns back to her family with a warm smile. “It was nice to meet you all.” 
Christina nods to the door, “I’ll walk you out.” She catches Aimee’s smirk and rolls her eyes. She puts a shoe in the door so that it won’t shut on her as she faces Andrei. “Thank you for the cake. Seriously.”
“Careful,” he teases, and if butterflies flutter in her stomach from his tone that’s no one else’s business. “It could be awful.”
“It won’t be.” She grins and gives him a quick hug before she can overthink it. She pulls away before she wants to. “Happy Thanksgiving. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you again.”
“Happy Thanksgiving.”
She watches him disappear from the hallway before she lets out a deep breath.
…..
The crowd at the PNC arena goes nuts with Andrei scores with less than two minutes left in the third against Columbus. Christina herself bounces around on her toes in excitement, her parents and sister somewhere up in the box seats. What a way to get your first of the season. She feels weirdly proud of him. 
She only catches him as she’s heading out a bit earlier than normal to drive back with her family. And by catch him, she only means by eye contact as Andrei’s swept up in media. She stops for a moment and just leans against the doorway of the locker room, watching him answer questions
Christina’s about to push herself off the doorway when Andrei’s eyes meet hers. He’s still talking, but his smile widens, and she just shoots him a thumbs up and a grin of her own before walking to the parking garage. 
…..
Christina groans as she skims the email from the management of her apartment complex. Fixing the water pipes will shut down water for 24 hours. It’s not the end of the world, but how inconvenient. 
She leans back in her chair, mentally going through her mind to see where she could crash for a whole day last minute. The one friend she would go to immediately is away on vacation right now. 
She’s twiddling her fingers as she walks to the locker room, needing to check in with Andrei. But weirdly, he’s nowhere to be found. She’s about to walk out of the room just as Andrei walks in. 
“Oh, perfect,” Christina says. “I was looking for you.”
“Were you?”
She tries not to roll her eyes as he follows her back to her office. “Get your ass on the table.”
He laughs, following her instructions as she works on his shoulder. She must sigh without realizing because his eyebrows furrow. “Everything okay?”
“Hm?”
“Are you okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” she waves him off. “The pipes are getting fixed in my apartment building for a day so I gotta figure out where I’m crashing for the night. That’s all.”
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “That must be annoying.”
She shrugs. “It is what it is, but the friend I usually would stay with is away right now, so that kinda has me scrambling. I probably will have to get a hotel room for the night or something.”
“How about you stay with me?”
Christina has her back towards him to take some notes, before she spins back around and raises an eyebrow. “Andrei, no. I can’t-”
“I have a guest room. Multiple guest rooms, actually,” he runs a hand through his hair. “It’s no problem. Serious. It would be like I’m not even there.” She opens her mouth to protest but closes it again, weighing her options. Like he senses her hesitation, he barrels on. “You don’t have to drop money on a hotel. And only for a night, right? Just stay with me.”
She bites her lip in thought. It would save her a lot of trouble. And he’s right, it’s just for a night. “Are you sure?” She says. 
“100 percent,” he promises. 
“Okay,” she says gratefully. “Thank you. I owe you big.”
“No worries,” he says. “I text you my address. Come over whenever you’re ready. I text you the garage code too in case I’m not home.”
She’s a bit surprised that he just blindly trusts her so much, but he trusts her to handle his body and recovery, which is arguably the most important thing for a professional athlete, so staying in his home is next to nothing. 
But it’s a big deal to her. She’s reminded of that when she drives home to grab some things. She’s reminded that her phone buzzes with a text from him, the garage code like he promised, along with what her sushi preferences are — anything, it’s her favorite food. She’s reminded of that as she drives over, immediately feeling overwhelmed at how nice this neighborhood is. 
She forgets often that these players are earning more than she ever will. Andrei is a multimillionaire. The cost of his living room alone is probably worth more than a year of Christina’s current monthly rent. 
It doesn’t phase her necessarily. It’s just an observation. 
As she pulls into his driveway, she sees Andrei coming out of his garage. He perks up with a wave, waiting for her to park her car. He approaches her as she comes out of her car with her backpack.
“Just in time. I grabbed dinner.”
She glances at the bag in his hands and she tries not to gulp at the familiar (expensive) restaurant logo “I could’ve grabbed it on the way here.”
He waves her off as they walk through the garage, him swinging her backpack over his shoulder. “You’re a guest in my home. Why would I make you do that?”
Christina’s not used to this. The chivalry. The acts of service. It all feels a bit too much, especially as he gives her a brief house tour and shows her the guest room. It’s all so minimalistic and clean and expensive and she was not prepared to be staying the night in Andrei’s house today. Or ever.
She jumps in the shower really quickly to wash off the day. It takes her a moment to figure out how to control the temperature. She’s afraid to mess anything up. When she walks back out into the main room, Andrei’s just finished setting up the table. When she spots the familiar label of her favorite wine, she blinks. 
He notices her silence and chuckles sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I asked Taylor what your favorite wine is.”
“You could’ve asked me,” she says softly. 
He shrugs. “I wanted to surprise you, I guess.”
She hoists herself up on the stool of the island, trying to control the butterflies in her stomach. “Well, thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
Being with Andrei in his home is expectedly intimate. She feels very comfortable at work to poke fun at the players and staff. But it’s different sitting for meals in the kitchen at the office compared to sitting across a kitchen island eating sushi that Christina only has when her parents foot the bill. Something as simple as Andrei’s sushi plopping into his soy sauce and her bark of laughter feels almost too much, especially when he chuckles with her at his misery. Because it’s just the two of them in his home and it’s almost too much. 
But even if it’s too much, she doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all. In fact, it’s probably weird how comfortable she does feel, as her and Andrei chat about everything from the team to his brother to her college days. When his dimple pops out and his brown eyes brighten with curiosity, she has to remind herself that she works with him. They’re co-workers at best. Friends possibly. 
She gets up to clear their dishes away, but Andrei’s quicker and pushes her shoulder down so she’s sitting again. She gives him a look. “Andrei. Come on. You bought dinner and you’re letting me stay for the night. I can wash dishes.”
He shakes his head, “You don’t need to do anything but sit there all pretty.”
She just blinks and sips her wine because what the fuck. 
They debate putting on a movie or show, but end up just hanging out on the couch and continuing to talk because he’s just so easy to talk to. Christina stops herself after her third glass of wine when she remembers she has work tomorrow, and she thinks he’s so sweet for grabbing her a glass of cold water without her even asking. 
When they’re winding down for the night, he hovers by the door of the guest room, making sure she doesn’t need anything. When she assures him that she’s all good, he leaves her with a “goodnight” and the cutest smile and Christina knows that she’s fucked. 
The next morning, she wakes up to the smell of coffee. When she walks out, yawning and rubbing her eyes, she sees two plates of waffles. 
“Good morning,” she says with an air of surprise. “This looks great.”
He chuckles. “Eat it first before you say anything.”
She hums, making sweater paws with her UNC sweatshirt and smiling when he slides over a mug of coffee. 
“You sleep well?”
“I did, thank you. You have a very comfy mattress.”
His dimple pops out and Christina can feel herself falling. “You’re welcome anytime.”
That statement doesn’t help either. 
After they finish their breakfasts, she yet again isn’t allowed to help with dishes, so she wraps her hands around her coffee and watches him. “Thank you, though, Andrei. Seriously. For letting me stay over. You saved me a lot of trouble.”
“Of course,” he says over his shoulder, catching sight of her packed backpack in the living room. “Are you heading out so soon?”
“Yeah. I have to get into work earlier than you do, remember?” She teases, as she finishes her coffee, hands him the mug and goes to grab her backpack. “I also wanna stop by my place to drop this stuff off and pick some stuff up before heading to the rink.”
He turns off the faucet, wipes his hands and walks over to her. “I was gonna say I’ll miss you, but I see you in probably an hour.”
She laughs, not quite processing what he just insinuated. “Probably.”
“Can I ask you something before you leave?”
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“Would you want to go on a date with me sometime?”
Her jaw drops open a bit. Oh. “Oh.”
He backtracks. “You can say no. I won’t be hurt. Or, well. I just want to ask to see if you give me that chance. I really like you, Chrissy.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just…Andrei. We work together.”
“I know, I know.”
She lets out a sigh, tipping her head back and squeezing her eyes shut. “Andrei-”
“One date,” he practically begs. “Let me take you on one date to prove that this is real to me.”
She swallows, her resolve starting to crumble down from his pleading eyes. “I could lose my job.”
“You won’t. And I wouldn’t let that happen.”
She can’t help but snort. “Carolina loves you, but not that much.”
He pouts before taking her hands. “Christina,” he says sincerely. “Just one chance. And then if it doesn’t go well, we stay coworkers and friends and this never happened.”
“And if it does go well?” She bites her lip.
The dimple appears on his cheek again. She wants to kiss it.  “Then we figure out where to go from there.”
“There’s just, it’s not- you’re wonderful and kind and sweet, but I’m putting a lot on the line here.” She feels vulnerable, her voice shaking at the edges. “I’ve worked too hard to have this fall apart on me.”
“I know. I understand.” And huh, Christina thinks. He actually probably does understand more than most, because if Andrei is anything, he's a hard worker. He gently places a hand on her waist and she can’t fucking think. “I wouldn’t ask you just to ask you or risk anything.”
“You like me that much, huh?” Christina jokes weakly.  
Andrei squeezes her waist lightly “I do.”
Oh. Okay. 
A few more seconds pass with Andrei staring at her hopefully and Christina blinking rapidly. He’s so gentle with her it makes her wanna scream into a pillow. 
“One date,” she relents. His eyes sparkle and her smile grows with his. “You have one shot, Svech. Use it wisely.”
“Oh believe me, I will.” He says confidently. “When are you free?” 
“My work schedule is the exact same as yours.” 
He lets go of her hands to dig into his pocket for his phone, checking the Canes schedule that’s synched up to his calendar. “When we’re in New York. Two weeks from now.” 
“New Year’s Eve?”
“Yeah. I know we’re already all going out at night but during the day. Just you and me.”
Immediately, her mind goes into planning mode. “Sure, yeah. That works. I have some friends who live in the city I could ask for recommendations for-”
“No,” she tilts her head in confusion at his firm tone. “You don’t worry about anything. I take care of all of it.”
“Andrei.”
“I take care of it, Chrissy.” he repeats, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “All you need to do is show up.”
She opens her mouth and closes it, before, “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay. Will you at least tell me what to wear?”
“Anything. You always look beautiful.”
She rolls her eyes at the fact that he’s already loading on the charm and they’re not even on the date yet. “Nice try. I’m not wearing my work attire to our date.”
“Seems like you already know what you’re wearing, then.”
She huffs before softening. “Thanks for letting me stay the night.”
Andrei clicks his tongue. “Of course. I see you later?”
Christina chuckles. “Yup.” 
They walk to his front door, and he hesitates for a second before leaning down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. She’s absolutely floored. “Get home safe.”
She gives him one last smile as goodbye. It isn’t until she’s in her car when she leans her forehead on her steering wheel and smiles into it does it fully sink in. 
She has a date in two weeks.
…..
No one likes a loss, and even if Christina is kinda immune to it by now, it’s not fun. But the holidays are near and her heart feels light as she packs up her things. Her flight takes off early in the morning, so she’s hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before then. A knock on the doorframe has her looking up to see Andrei dressed back in his game day suit with a light smile on his face. 
“Hey,” she greets. “Everything alright? You need treatment?”
“Everything’s fine. I’m okay.” He says, shuffling in and looking a bit sheepish.
Christina hesitates. She’s not sure how Andrei is after a loss, if he likes to talk about it or forget about it. “You wanna talk about it?”
“Not really.” 
“Okay.” She looks down at his outstretched hand holding a box she didn’t see at first. “What’s that?”
He clears his throat. “It’s, uh, your Christmas present. You fly back home in the morning, yes?”
“Yeah,” she shakes her head. “Andrei, I-I don’t need…I didn’t get you anything.”
“That’s okay.” The annoying thing is that she knows he means that. She tentatively takes the box out of his hand and opens it. Inside is a pair of silver dewdrop earrings. 
“Andrei.”
“Uh, I asked Taylor and they told me you wore silver and gave their approval. But if you don’t like them, I can return them and exchange them for-”
“Andrei,” he halts as she looks at him. “They’re beautiful. Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You really didn’t have to get me anything.”
“I wanted to.”
She chuckles shakily, closing the box. “We haven’t even been on our date yet.”
“So?” he shrugs, like it’s not a big deal. But it is a big deal. “You’re important to me. I get everyone important to me Christmas presents.”
Christina wants to melt at the soft look in Andrei’s eyes. She’s a bit at a loss for words, so she just gives him a tight hug. She lets herself fall into him as his arms wrap around her securely, resting her chin on his shoulder and letting her eyes fall shut at how safe she feels. 
She reluctantly pulls away and puts some space between them. They are still at work after all. “Thank you. Seriously. You’re so sweet.”
“I’m glad you like them,” he says with a light in his eyes. 
“I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.”
He shakes his head. “No need.” She gives him a look as he chuckles. “I promise. A date with you is enough presents to last me a lifetime.” Jesus Christ. Where does he pull this shit out of? He just grins. “You heading out? I walk you to your car.”
She swallows and nods, packing up the last of her things, carefully placing the box on top. She makes sure she’s not looking at him when she says her next statement. “You’re way too nice to me.” Silence for a bit besides her rustling her things. Once she’s ready to go, she looks back at him, who’s staring at her thoughtfully. It throws her off guard. “What?”
“I’m not too nice to you,” Andrei says, eyebrows furrowed adorably and sincerely. “I’m just..how I am.”
“It’s not a bad thing,” Christina quickly assures him as she flicks off the lights. “I just, uh, am not used to it? None of my exes have ever even treated me this nicely.”
“That’s a shame,” he says. “You deserve someone being kind to you. No such thing as too nice.”
She just swallows as they head down the hallway and to the parking lot. Because what can she say to that? Andrei has always been sweet and polite since the day they met, but she didn’t expect him to be so sincerely earnest. 
She slides into the passenger seat of her car and he leans down, resting his hand against the hood. “You’ll be good to go home?”
“Yeah.”
“Merry Christmas, Christina,” he says with a grin.
“Merry Christmas, Andrei.”
…..
Andrei gets a hat trick against Montreal and looks right at her as his teammates converge upon him. She has no idea how he even finds her so quickly considering she’s not standing where she usually would be, but he finds her anyway. 
She grins at him and he gives an imperceptible nod paired with his signature charming smile.
Three more days.
…..
Half an hour before Andrei’s supposed to be at her hotel room door, Christina is already ready. 
She hadn’t managed to squeeze many details out of him, because he insisted that he would take care of it. It’s not like she doubts him, perse. But she’d at least like to know how to dress so she doesn’t feel out of place. She told him that, and he caved, saying “not a sweatshirt, but a nice sweater or dress will be fine, but not overly fancy,” which, actually, doesn’t say much. But she could work with that. 
And she did. When packing for this mini-road trip, she put thought into what she would wear today. She’s settled for a black-neck long sleeve with her favorite dark green pants, paired with black ankle-high boots and her favorite brown peacoat. 
As she sits on her bed and waits, she starts becoming more fidgety. She’s nervous, yes, but not because she doesn’t know him. She has a feeling that he’s going to be the perfect gentleman and the date will go well. 
She’s nervous that it’ll go too well and she’ll get ahead of herself. 
Before she knows it, she hears a knock on her door. With a deep breath, she grabs her bag and walks over to open the door. 
She swings it open and swallows. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Andrei says softly. She takes a moment to look at his outfit — a navy blue button up with a gray jacket draped over his arm. With black dress pants and sneakers, she’s thankful that it seems like their outfits match on the formal scale. He clears his throat. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she says softly. “You look great too.”
“Shall we?”
Christina reaches into her purse to make sure she has her room key, phone and wallet before nodding. “Where are we headed?” She asks as they walk down the hall. 
“We’ll have to head on the train a few stops to Lincoln Center.” Lincoln Center? She furrows her eyebrows. He clears his throat as they step into the elevator, him leaning against the wall. “Today’s the last day they show The Nutcracker. With your dancing history, I figure, I don’t know, maybe it would be fun?”
Suddenly, a frog appears in her throat. It’s probably the most thoughtful first date she could go on. She looks into his earnest eyes, as if he thinks she’ll hate it or not wanna go. 
“It’s perfect,” she manages to get out. He’s perfect. “I-I haven’t seen a ballet in ages.”
“I know,” he responds. “You told me, remember?”
Oh. She did. And he remembered. She bites her lip to keep herself from blurting out that this might be the best date she’s ever been on and they just stepped out of the elevator. 
She can tell he’s a bit nervous, quieter than usual. They’re not quite holding hands, but their fingers keep brushing and she feels the ghost of his hand on her lower back as they head down to the subway and onto the train. 
“When’s the last time you were in New York City?” He asks. 
The train lurches and Christina takes a second to find her footing. “It’s been at least two years. I used to come up here for, funny enough, dance intensives and camps when I was in middle and high school.”
“Are you planning on getting back to classes now that it’s been a few months?”
Again, she’s impressed with the things Andrei actually remembers. She shrugs. “I definitely think I’m still too busy during the season. But maybe in the off-season.”
More people pile onto the train, causing the two to move closer towards each other. She can smell his cologne. She looks up in shock at the feeling of a feather-like kiss on her forehead. 
“Thank you.”
“For?”
“Saying yes. This will be the best date of your life, I promise.”
She just leans her head onto his elbow as the train runs on its tracks. 
As they walk into Lincoln Center, all Christina can do is gape as they find their seats, Andrei leading the way — in the first row of the second wing. It’s a perfect view of the stage with all the formations, lighting and sound. Andrei plays with her hand the whole time and it feels so good to see a dance performance again. During intermission, she gushes over the choreography and costumes as Andrei just smiles, listening intently to her observations. When she suddenly stops and apologizes for rambling, he tells her to keep going. (“I love how much you love dance.”)
Afterwards, they head to a nearby dessert place and share a bowl of shaved ice and ice cream. She’s having such a good time talking with him that it isn’t until the sky becomes dark does she realize they both have to head back to the hotel before anyone questions them and they can get ready for the team and staff New Year’s Eve party tonight.
She swipes her keycard, closing the door as he steps into her room. “Thank you for this. I had a really good time.”
“Yeah?”
She nods, biting her lip with a small smile. “I did.”
“A good time enough that you want to do it again?”
“I think so.”
“Yeah?” His eyes are practically sparkling and Christina’s elated that it’s because of her. “I didn't blow my shot?”
She chuckles, “You did.” She doesn't want to tell him that if she’s being honest with herself, he had her from the very start. 
“Great,” he grins. “Great. I’m glad you had a really good time. I was really nervous.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Oh,” she says, walking closer to him and instinctively wrapping her hands loosely around his neck. “You didn’t have to be.”
“You-you always make me a bit nervous, even if I don’t show it,” he admits. 
Christina’s stomach tingles. “Can we go on another date when we’re back in Raleigh? Maybe after I take my exam?”
“Yes,” he rushes out. “Of course. Yes.”
She catches his eyes flickering to her lips for a split second and decides to just bite the bullet. She presses a delicate kiss on his lips, and backs away to see a light pink dusting his cheeks. “I’m gonna go get ready for tonight.”
He chases her lips, causing her to giggle. “Bye,” he mumbles against her lips. “I see you in a bit.”
As soon as her door shuts, she lets out a little squeal into her hands. Happy New Year’s Eve to her, indeed.
…..
Christina’s certification exam happens to fall on a rare week where the Canes have no games, which she’s grateful for because she doesn’t want to miss out on any. There are some practices, but she’s excused from those to study. 
The day after her exam, she feels a large weight lift off her shoulders. She won’t get the results for a few weeks, but she feels confident that she did well and she can pat herself on the back for a bit. 
She comes into practice in high spirits, having gotten a coffee and pastry from her favorite cafe on the way as a treat. She takes congratulatory messages from all the staff and some players with a smile. When Andrei skates up at the start of practice to her on the bench, he just smiles at her, shooting her a quick wink before skating off. She hopes she’s not blushing. 
He’s left her alone in the meanwhile while she’s been studying, but she’s hoping to catch him before he leaves the rink today to see when they can go out again.
Unfortunately, the team is in the video room as Christina heads to her office to pack up for the day. She guesses she’ll have to talk to Andrei tomorrow. She could just text or call him, but that doesn’t feel good enough. 
When arriving at her car, she stops short and squints. There’s a bouquet of flowers wrapped in brown paper tucked inbetween the door handle, red roses and sunflowers to be exact. 
“Oh good, you haven’t left yet,” she whips around to see Andrei jogging towards her. 
She turns back around to her car, staring at the flowers as he stops beside her. “What’s this?”
“A little gift. To congratulate you on finishing your exam.”
She swallows, suddenly emotional. “They’re beautiful.”
“Beautiful flowers for a-”
She whacks him lightly. “Don’t finish that sentence, you sap.”
He laughs. It’s becoming one of her favorite sounds. “But I mean it.”
“I know,” she finally turns to look at her and grins. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “Are you around this week to grab dinner or something?”
He runs a hand through his hair. “You know my schedule more than anyone.” She rolls her eyes as he chuckles. “Of course I am. We’ll find time.”
She hums. “Okay.”
“What should I tell the guys for now?” A sudden flurry of anxiety flashes through her veins. Andrei must see her face change, because he continues quickly. “I don’t have to say anything. We can keep it quiet.”
“Would you mind if we did? Just because it’s so…”
“I don’t mind,” his dimple pops out. “Promise. Let’s just go on another date first. Sound good?”
She bites her lip with a nod. “Yeah.”
“Yeah,” he repeats. His hands itch to reach towards her before he remembers that they’re just outside of the rink and that anybody could walk out at any minute. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“See you tomorrow. Thank you for the flowers, seriously.”
“I hope you’re proud of yourself,” he says, backing away. “You’re so smart and you worked really hard.”
She looks down at her shoes, warmth spreading through her body. “Thanks. Have a good night.”
“You too.”
(When Christina goes home and arranges the flowers in a vase, she sends Andrei a picture. He responds immediately with the heart-eyed emoji, and she feels the excitement of something new starting.)
…..
Christina’s a smart girl. When she gets a text from Doug a few weeks (and more than a handful of dates with Andrei) later to come to one of the conference rooms, she has a feeling it’s about her and Andrei. Though who would’ve said something? 
Her stomach drops on the walk over, her palms sweating as she fiddles with her staff badge. When she walks in, she sees Doug, Mary, head of the HR department, Coach Brind’Amour and Andrei himself all around a rectangular table.
Mary offers a warm smile. “Hi Christina.” 
Christina tries to smile back while shutting the door behind her. “Hi Mary and everyone.” 
“Please take a seat,” Mary says. The only empty one is next to Andrei. Christina gingerly sits down. “I guess we’ll just cut to the chase. It’s come to our attention that you and Andrei here are in a romantic relationship.” 
She blinks. Well, yeah. But-“From who?” 
“From me.” Andrei says. She whips her head to look at him and he grimaces. “I’m sorry. I know we planned to go together next week, but I slipped up in front of Coach this morning and…yeah.” 
“Of course you did,” Christina mutters. She hears Doug trying to cover a snort. “Um, yes, uh, we are. Seeing each other. Together. Whatever you wanna call it. We were going to come to your office next week. We weren’t gonna hide it or anything, I promise.”
“I understand,” Mary says. “First of all, your job is not in jeopardy. You’re not going to get fired because of this. Especially because it’s obvious you two weren’t trying to hide anything. ” Christina knows that, but she would be lying if she said that she wasn’t a little bit relieved. “Workplace relationships occur all the time. However, as I’m sure you both understand, your particular situation is a bit different. I have to ask when you two started this relationship.” 
Christina lets Andrei take the lead, partially curious about what he’ll say. He doesn’t hesitate. “New Year’s Eve.” 
She smiles internally. It’s nice to know he considers their first official date as serious as she does. 
“You do understand that in the workplace, there are boundaries.” 
Andrei and Christina both nod. Christina continues, twisting her fingers. “Of course. I’ll obviously continue with my responsibilities as I have been since I joined the organization and continue to do the best I can do with every player and staff member. Our relationship won’t affect that at all, I promise.”
“And I also understand the boundaries,” Andrei adds. “This will also not affect my performance on the ice and off. I continue being professional with all staff.”
“You both understand that no matter what happens that your professional relationship comes first?”
“Yes.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“And you both understand that when you come into work, you’re at work and focused on work?” They both nod. Mary looks around the room. “I mean, that’s really all I got. It seems like you two understand. I’ll draw out the paperwork and get it back to you two in a few days. Doug?”
Doug clears his throat. “First of all, I called this and Steve owes me $50.” Andrei lets out a surprised laugh but Christina isn’t even fazed. “Only thing I got is that I should probably take you off as the main person of contact for Svech for his general recovery regime we started in the beginning.”
She kinda saw that coming. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Andrei about to protest but she kicks him underneath the table. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
“No worries. I’ll just take over. There’s not much to that anymore anyways, right?” She nods. He grins. “Great. As long as you keep doing the good work you’re doing, no issues here. Coach? Anything to add?”
Christina swallows looking at Coach Brind’Amour, but she breathes easier when he smiles a bit. “Nothing really from me. Svechy, you know what I expect from you. That doesn’t change. And Christina, you’ve done your job wonderfully thus far and as long as that doesn’t change, which I’m sure it won’t, no issues here. Do your teammates know, Svech?”
Andrei smirks. “Some of them have probably picked up on it. Nothing for sure though.”
Coach grins wryly. “You can be the one to tell them then, should you want to.”
“You’re gonna get chirped like hell,” Christina snickers, making everyone in the room laugh. 
Andrei looks over at her with a small pout. “And you won’t?”
“A little. But you’re the one playing with them. I’m just an lowly assistant trainer.”
Doug cackles. “Chrissy, I think you underestimate how much the boys like you. Get ready for comments everyday.”
“But not too mean,” Andrei says. 
Christina snorts. “Down, boy.” She turns back to Mary, Coach and Doug with a smile, feeling more comfortable now. “Is there anything else?”
Mary shrugs. “Besides the paperwork I’ll get you two to sign later, nope. You two are free to go. Thanks for coming in."
They all file out of the conference room while Christina and Andrei linger. Once everyone is out of earshot, she playfully shoves him. “Really?” She deadpans. 
“I’m sorry!”
She chuckles. “It’s fine. At least it’s out of the way. Would appreciate a warning next time though.”
He nods solemnly. “I know. I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again.”
She swallows, before leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek and going their separate ways. 
(Andrei lingers to watch her turn the corner of the hallway, a big smile on his face. Rod watches him)
…..
three years later 
The times that Christina is on the bench has gotten higher and higher the longer she’s been here. Hell, she’s one of few women to this day that has been on an NHL bench as a trainer, which is ridiculous since it’s 2027 and she’s just doing her job. Doug’s son is getting married this weekend so Christina knew she’d be taking over head duties for this game against the Rangers long before. 
It’s thrilling every time though, being on the bench. Everything’s so much louder and things seem to move so much faster, even though she’s been doing this for three years. Since puck drop, she’s been in the zone and thankfully so far, not needed. 
Until Andrei gets checked. Hard. Which rarely happens since he’s the one usually doing the checking. 
Fights break out on the ice, whistles are blown and Christina doesn’t need the ref’s signal — or anyone’s — to know that she needs to scurry out there fast. She’s praying that it looks worse than it is. 
She bends down next to Andrei, who’s crouched over in pain and places a gentle hand on his back. “Hey, baby. It’s me. Can you tell me what hurts?” He’s breathing heavily and doesn’t respond for a few seconds. “You have to tell me what hurts so I can help you.” He mumbles something in Russian and while Christina is 90% sure of what he’s saying, she can’t take any risks right now. “English, baby, please.”
“Chest.”
Okay. Lungs. Maybe ribs. He’s talking and breathing fine, even if heavily. “Okay,” she nods, going through her mental checklist rapidly. “Can you skate off by yourself?” He nods and she just rubs his back, giving him a few seconds. He eventually gets up on his own, which is a good sign, and she tries not to eat shit as they both get off the ice and go straight down the tunnel. 
Once he’s sat down on a training table, she puts her hands on his cheeks. “Drei. I need to hear the words from you.” 
Even in his injured state, Andrei knows. “I’m okay, solnyshka. Just hurting a bit.” 
“Okay. Let’s get your gear off and see what’s going on, yeah?” She helps him get off his gear until he’s completely shirtless. “Lie back for me.” She does her routine, pressing in specific spots and seeing how he reacts. She winces every time he hisses, even though it’s helping her determine what’s wrong. She goes through her questions, quickly determining if he’s done for the day or may be able to head back out. It's the end of the second period anyways, so they have more time to assess. 
“You got your shit rocked.” She says bluntly. She smiles lightly when she gets the reaction she wants, which is a snort out of him. 
“Yeah, which is fucking annoying.”
She swallows. “But you’re okay?”
“Yeah. Think it was more of just an impact hit.”
“Good, good.”
“What are you thinking, Doc?” Andrei jokes. “Am I good to go for the third period?”
“That really depends on you,” she says. “Like you said, it seems like it was more just an impact hit. Beside soreness and tenderness, nothing’s out of place or broken or sprained. But it’s all about how you feel.”
“Then why do you sound unsure?”
“Because I’m trying to talk to you like your trainer, not your fiance.”
Andrei softens and she has to look away. “Talk to me like you’re my fiance, solnyshka.”
“It was just a scary few seconds there, when you didn’t get up. That’s all.”
She swallows as he puts down the ice pack and puts his hands on her cheeks to make her look at him. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
She waves his apology away. “It’s okay. Getting hit is part of the gig. I know that by now.”
He rubs his thumbs on her cheek. “Still. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s just hard sometimes. Seeing you go down. Keep icing,” she instructs, backing away. Christina’s not afraid of being caught with PDA nowadays. Everyone in the organization knows they’re together after three years. But she still prefers keeping up a level of professionalism at work. 
“I think I’m gonna go back out, but I do limited minutes.”
She furrows her eyebrows. That doesn’t sound like him. “Limited minutes?” He just shrugs. “Andrei.” She deadpans.
“It depends on me, right? How I feel?” He says, throwing her words back at her as he starts putting his gear back on. 
“Yes. But you’re Andrei Svechnikov. You don’t know what the word limited means because you have no sense of self preservation.”
“Limited minutes,” he says firmly. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”
“The ring on my finger kinda indicates that I’ll always worry about you,” she responds dryly. 
He laughs, standing up. “Only for tonight, to be safe.” They hear the boys about to head out for the period and start walking out of the room. “Thank you for taking care of me.” 
“Just doing my job.”
He pulls her in to place a quick kiss on her lips. “And you do it well.”
“Good luck out there. Love you.”
“Love you more.” He runs back onto the ice with his teammates as she follows slower behind.
“He all good?” Coach Brind’Amour asks when she’s back on the bench.
“Yeah. Up to him if he wants to take every shift, but he’s cleared to go.”
Coach nods, “It never gets easier, does it?”
“Hm?”
“The look you had on your face when Svechy went down. It’s the same look I have when my son goes down. Still. And he’s been playing his whole life.”
She shrugs, trying to be casual. “It’s part of the job I signed up for.”
“Sure. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy.”
They both watch as the teams skate to center ice to take the faceoff. No, she thinks. It most definitely does not. 
It’s close to midnight when she and Andrei are walking out of the arena together. She yawns as she leans into him and he puts an arm around her shoulder. Luckily they have the day off tomorrow. Maybe she’ll force Andrei to try a new recipe for dinner together that she found online.
It’s not until she’s in bed, listening the shower run as Andrei quickly rinses, does she see her notifications. Fifteen texts from six people.
She clicks Layla’s first. It’s a link to a short Twitter video. She clicks on it. 
It’s a short clip of the broadcast right after Andrei’s injury, a replay she winces at, cameras showing her running out and all the chaos before they head into the tunnel. But it’s what the commentators are saying that Layla — and all her other friends who sent her messages — are freaking out about. 
“Svechnikov seems to be alright, able to get up on his own and slowly skate to the bench, which is always a good sign.”
“Christina, the Hurricanes’ assistant athletic trainer is out there with him, with Doug, the head trainer out for a few games for family obligations. Fun fact, she’s one of the few female athletic trainers in the NHL. Fantastic at her job and an incredible person as well.”
“Another fun fact to those who may not know, Christina and Svechnikov are engaged, getting married sometime next year. And that’s a beautiful Canes love story if I’ve ever heard one.”
“I can imagine it isn’t easy to have to see your fiance go down like that, even if it is a part of her job. They’re both heading down the tunnel now, so we’ll see if he comes back out for the third period. Hopefully he’s okay.”
She locks her phone. It’s been known to the general public that Andrei is engaged. He had posted on Instagram when he proposed. But it had been a silhouette shot and he hadn’t tagged her out of respect for their privacy. Christina’s Instagram is private too, so very few people they don’t personally know had put it together. 
Until now, that is.
“You saw it too?” Andrei says, coming out of the bathroom.
“Yeah. A bunch of people sent it to me.”
“And?”
“They didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. What do you think?”
He slides under the covers and kisses her forehead tenderly, “I love being known as your fiance. I’d ask you everyday to marry me if I could.”
“Sap.” She feels him laugh as she leans her head on his chest, drawing circles on his bare skin. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“I’m always gonna be okay. I have you.”
She kisses his lips before yawning, and he reaches over to shut off the lamp. 
(When Christina goes into work the next morning, Taylor’s waiting for her in her office. With no greeting, they set their laptop down and press play on a video. It’s a compilation of her and Andrei’s little pre-game ritual they had started a few months after they started dating. 
It’s Andrei, usually in his game day suit, and her in the hallway of whatever arena they’re in. He grabs both her hands and kisses her three times. Twice on the lips. Once on her forehead. She always adjusts his collar even if it doesn’t need to be adjusted, and then they’re both off to their separate ways. 
Christina had no idea Taylor had been filming this. For years, apparently, if the description in the bottom right of the video indicates anything. 2024, 2025, 2026 and this year, 2027. 
“I was gonna originally ask you if I could post it the day of your wedding,” Taylor says as the video ends. “But I also would never post it anywhere without you or Svech’s permission. I’m perfectly prepared to just keep this in the archives and never let it see the light of day.”
“You’ve been filming that all these years?”
Taylor smiles softly. “I have. The clip from last night is everywhere, with the broadcast talking about you two while you’re helping him on the ice. Twitter’s going crazy.  And I was thinking, and no pressure at all, but I was thinking that we could post this today. Everyone always loves behind the scenes content, like Marty screaming Svech’s name. I have a feeling everyone’s gonna love this little ritual too.”
The video has been replaying automatically and Christina can’t help but smile. “Okay.”
“For real?”
“Yeah. If you think it’s a good move, I trust you. You’re the social expert.”
“Well, perfect,” they grin. “I’ll catch Svech when he comes in to ask for his permission too.”
Christina snorts. “He’s not gonna say no, I can promise that.” 
He doesn’t. Taylor posts the video three hours later. The internet goes nuts. Andrei surprises her with dinner when she gets home after him, two plates of delicious-looking pasta on the table with a candle lit and a vase of fresh flowers. But the most beautiful sight is his dimpled smile. 
She kisses him. Hard. It feels like the first time again.)
~*~*~
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