off the ice | l.mh

chapter 3.2

"Bye!". You wave to your teammates as they exit the locker room, probably to go out and be social on a Saturday afternoon. Unfortunately for you, your only plans are to study alone at the library. Miserable as it may sound, you were telling Yuna the truth when you said your economics midterm is coming up.

"You seriously don't wanna join us for lunch today?". Yuna slings her skating bag over her shoulder. Her freshly showered hair sticks messily to her face, but even like this she looks like she could be on the cover of a teen magazine.

"I'll pass. I can grab a salad from the convenience store before I head to the library. Midterms are coming up and I gotta do a lot of review," you explain, brushing a wide comb through your tangled mess of hair. Yuna moves to pull her hair back into a ponytail. You watch quietly as her perfectly sculpted reflection makes an action so simple into a reason for guilty envy. The stained locker room mirror, however, does your own bare face no favors. Your best friend remains oblivious as you pick yourself apart again. You shove the brush in your bag and turn around before you could fall deeper in insecurity. "Let's go".

As always, you choose to disregard your insecure thoughts. Talking about it seems weird, so you just simply choose not to do it. Bothering other people with your problems is such a hassle and you feel like it's beneath you to be like that. It's best to just keep it to yourself.

"Y/n!," a familiar voice calls out from behind you. You stop walking down the stadium corridor, turning around to see who could've known your name. Usually it's Yuna getting stopped by one of her many friends.

Ashy blonde hair comes into view and the boy jogs slightly to catch up with you. Your legs were doing just fine after over an hour and a half of training, but now they tremble at the sight of the figure panting in front of you.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here," Mark smiles down at you, the dim hallway lights catching on his cheekbones and jawline, somehow accentuating his beautifully sculpted features more.

"I'll see you later," Yuna winks, patting you on the back and making a break for the exit before you could protest.

"I-uh, hey, Mark," you stutter. As casually as you can, you muster the strength to smile back.

Is it just you or did he get even more good-looking since the last time you saw him?

"Did you guys just get out of practice?". You could hardly pay attention to his simple question as you plainly check him out. The junior captain sports a simple outfit consisting of a plain black hoodie with matching black joggers and sneakers. His red hockey bag, slung across his back, is supported by a mere thumb. With the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows, you watch as the lines of his forearm muscles shift and strain with each fine movement from the weight of the duffel.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah! We did," you answer after an awkward pause.

Oh, God, please let that not have been weird.

"Are you here for your practice?". You mentally slap yourself for your stupid question; he's wearing gym clothes and has his hockey gear, what else was he going to do at the rink?

"Yeah, I am," Mark chuckles good-naturedly, leaning slightly on the wall next to you, "I came here a bit early, actually. I was hoping to catch you".

Catch...me?

Your face flushes at the heart-fluttering remark. Contesting with the urge to spontaneously burst into flames, you try your best to give a steady reply, "Oh! What for?".

"I-uh," Mark diverts his gaze down to his shoes, "I know I got your number from the group chat, but I wanted to ask you in person. There's a party tonight at the sheep's house- my friend's house- and I was wondering if I was gonna see you there?".