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Summary
Love is miserable, Ilya thinks. It's dirty work. It fights worse than an MLH enforcer with a drinking problem and seven missing teeth. It'll toss you about and break your bones and leave you bleeding out on the ice.
He's been in love twice, and both times he fucked it.
The first time, he hadn't even known what it was until it was gone. He had learned its shape from the hole it left behind. Hollander had gone. Poof, whoosh, like a ghost. All that was left was the man on the ice, jaw tense and eyes dead, who played like Ilya was a bug to be crushed. Ilya tried to play so dirty Hollander would throw down his gloves and then they could at least touch each other again, fist to face, but all he got was decked by a series of troglodytes in Metros jerseys.
Series
- Part 2 of i know how to hurt myself on you