Circles || Sapnap x Reader

Chapter 6 - Practice and Showers🔞

The rink's cold air has goosebumps forming all over my body, crossing my arms as I stare out onto the open ice from the lobby. I don't hear him approach me, the brunette wrapping an arm around me has me jumping nearly a foot off the ground.

"Shit, sorry, hey," he retracts his arm for a moment before placing it back, Sapnap smiling slightly as I relax.

"Sorry, you're fine, I just was thinking about stuff," I shrug, telling the truth.

"What kind of stuff?" his thumb runs softly against my arm, encouraging me to lean against him slightly.

"Just school," I let out a small laugh.

"Need help with anything?" he offers, our matching schedules have provided a perfect way to slide by these last few weeks.

"No, no it's all good. I should do my own work for once," I murmur.

"Oh, okay, yeah," he eyes the hallway filled with his teammates, "I kinda have to go," he still hasn't stopped looking at me.

"All good, I should go get changed too," I finally look up to him with a smile, a small kiss is planted on my forehead before Sapnap retracts his arm and starts to leave.

"I'm driving you home, right?" he turns back once more, I just nod, "Good, I'll be in the lobby when you're done."

Practice is filled with distractions, Sapnap clouding my brain more than once, passes and goals missed constantly. I can feel my teammate's eyes on me, an occasional groan of disappointment leaving someone's mouth. By the end, my face is hot with sweat and embarrassment, my plays being years behind my skill level.

Hannah is already hounding me the second we get into the locker room, the brunette doing her best to be nice with her comments. She doesn't do all that well, the berating tone in her voice has me feeling awful.

"I love you, I really do, but what was that?" she says in a hushed tone as we're leaning down to un-tie our skates.

I don't have an answer for her.

"I guess, I just- I was distracted?" I offer, although it's the truth, it's not a very good excuse.

"Is there anything I can do?" she offers, the niceness in her statement hidden by the annoyance in her voice.

"No, sorry, I think I'm just gonna stay here and practice," I shrug, our team being the last to use the ice that evening.

"Okay, sounds good. Text me if you need anything," the conversation ends in vexation, neither of us wanting to fight.

The team clears out after another few minutes, my gear stripped off and skates put back on. The sweaty padding is too heavy for a practice by myself, the weight would just make me more annoyed.

I can tell the moment the zamboni leaves the ice, the drone stopping and loud doors slamming gives me my cue to go back out. Pucks are thrown on the ice, a small goal dragged to center ice.

Skating up and down between the red lines a few times, I replay the practice in my head, marking every mistake with the slam of my stick on the ice, gradually getting more and more frustrated with myself.

I long forget about the boy waiting in the lobby, the brunette the last thing I'm worried about.

Pucks fly into the net, cursing myself out for every one I miss.

There isn't even a goalie, how am I still not landing shots?

After a half hour on the ice, I line up ten pucks 15 yards back from the goal, starting at the left side and making my way down, finally not missing my shots.