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    Summary

    Despite the ordeal being pitched as a family affair, Yuna and David were seated ten rows behind him. Shane had a vague recollection of a conversation about their seating arrangements. You’ll be next to a Swedish prince – no, a princess – no, a prince. Jeez, the font on these emails is too small. David, can you hand me my glasses?

    As promised, Shane was seated beside a prince. He was obscenely beautiful; his hair reflected a white-gold twinge in the sun, with eyebrows to match, fading into his browbone. A straight nose, rose-bud lips, skin as smooth as porcelain. A glittering diamond hung off his earlobe. Objectively beautiful. Regrettably not who he wanted.

    Or: What if, post-tuna meltdown, Ilya gets injured and the All-Stars reunion never happens. Shane and Ilya don't make up. Shane actually goes to Wimbledon that year and gets a lot more than he bargained for.

    Or: The Wimbledon Swedish prince fic.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    41,345
    Chapters:
    5/7
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