7OfSwords



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  1. Public Bookmark 21

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    Shane doesn’t remember yelling after him, though he must have. He doesn’t remember getting into the Uber either, or the precise moment that his knocking tilted from annoyance into concern. All Shane knows is that one minute, Ilya is saying goodnight to his teammates, lax with the smug contentment that only a win against Montreal can imbue, and the next, he’s taking a phone call with a curt da, Alexei? that has every bit of celebration slipping shortly from his face.

    Then Ilya bolts, and Shane’s recourse is quite simple.

    He follows.

    Ilya and Shane, the night before Moscow.

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    26 Dec 2025

  2. Rec *

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    “Game is over,” he says. “You won. I lost. I was annoying. Normal.”

    “That’s not—” Shane starts, then stops, because he actually doesn't know how to finish that thought without sounding like an idiot. His jaw works, teeth grinding together.

    That's not what I meant. That's not the point. You said I was boring and you were right and I need you to say it again so I know where I stand, so I know what you think of me, so I can stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.

    He settles for: “You were kind of an asshole.”

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    24 Dec 2025

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Or: the WAG Ilya thing.

    Words:
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    23 Dec 2025

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Shane isn't used to people touching him. Then he meets Ilya Rozanov.

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    21 Dec 2025

  5. Rec *

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    Ilya died, yes, but then the doctors saved him. Cardiopulmonary resuscitation in the ambulance, three electric shocks, two emergency surgeries, twenty-six units of blood. Ilya died, but then he came back.

    If only Shane could get his subconscious to understand that.

    Language:
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    19 Dec 2025