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    Summary

    Standing beneath the heavy, silver glow of the full moon, Ilya looked devastatingly beautiful. The harsh neon lights from the strip threw sharp, colorful shadows across his features, highlighting the strong clench of his jaw and the thick texture of his curls. But beneath that usual mask of Russian arrogance, he looked incredibly young. Almost cute. It was a soft, vulnerable side that Ilya never allowed the media or the fans to see, and Shane was the only one witnessing it.

     Looking at him, a sudden, terrifying realization hit Shane with the force of an open-ice hit.

     Fuck. I'm in love with him.

    Or

    What if Shane actually said "I love you" first? What if he said it in the most cowardly way possible, before Ilya confesses in his Russian monologue?

    Language:
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