~•~
26 year old, Connor Deluca, is a professional Hockey player in the NHL; who just moved into the expensive Citrus Grove Community.
23 year old, Serena Jade, is the recluse famous author known to the public only under her pen name Skylyn Voss, and...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
________________
While Serena laid in her bed, she had to replay the events of that night in her head to believe them. She laid there and listened to the falling rain outside as it thumped and slid down her window.
She remembered the anger building immediately when Connor saw Liam and her. The way he scorned at her, and promised threats in his eyes at him.
And then on the ice, everything felt off, people around her whispering. Wondering. She remembered how angry she was at him, and now that anger was replaced with guilt.
Did she have an imperceptible hand in this?
She winced her eyes closed when she remember their fists crashing down on each other. The blood. The blood shining in stark contrast to the beautiful white ice. It was jarring.
She had to look away at the rink, all she saw was flashes of blood against white tile and heard echoing of fist crashing down deep in her own bones.
She had ran to Liam, he was able to talk and said it was alright, but blood and swollen eyes mangled his face. The paramedics said he'd be okay, said injuries like this weren't serious, he'd at most have a concussion.
But Serena still felt bad. She dragged him down in her sinking ship too.
Serena sat up in her bed, gripping the fabric above her heart to ease the dull ache there. She really felt bad because all she could think about since she left the arena was Connor. She was worried, she knew Liam would be okay, but watching Connor leave that rink. Watching the anger mingled with blood decorate his features, and he didn't even look at her had hurt more than she thought.
She couldn't hear them before the fight, but she saw the movement of their lips. Watched their faces. And wondering what they said was eating her up inside.
Serena sighed and settled with the pain in her chest, glancing over towards her clock to see the flashing number.
1:11 pm.
A knock at her door followed by the clashing of broken glass made her jump still in her bed.
She turned towards her bedroom door, staring with wide eyes and a wildly beating heart.
There was another knock, followed by a familiar male voice calling her name through soft slurs.
Connor.
She jumped from the bed, forgetting the fact she was dressed only in a small t-shirt from her college she had cropped years ago and a pair of black booty shorts Serena used exclusively for pajamas.
She ignored the protests and anger in her heart, letting her worry carry her down her steps and to the door rapidly.
She peaked out the window along the side, making sure it was him through the textured glass. She saw his foggy image and instantly knew it was him.
