Anchoring 10

Connor Donovan is a ghost I can't hide from. To the world, he's the golden boy with the brunette curls, the #10 jersey, the captain who owns the pitch with terrifying confidence. To me, he's a variable I can't control.

For two years, I've perfected my armor: my 5'10" frame, my biting sarcasm, and a "keep away" stare designed to hide the wreckage underneath. But Connor doesn't trip over my wires. He just watches me with blue-green eyes that feel like a sea I could drown in.

When he says my name, it carries a weight the others can't replicate. When his hand brushes mine, my skin doesn't crawl, it catches fire. It's a civil war between the girl who remembers the accident in Canterbury and the girl who is tired of hiding. He makes me feel like my fortress is made of glass, and I'm just waiting for the sound of it to finally shatter.

***

Ava Young is a storm waiting to hit. She's five-foot-ten of elegant defiance, walking like she's expecting an ambush. Most people stay away because they're afraid of the frost.
I stay close because I'm the only one who notices she's shivering.

She thinks she's invisible behind her sharp wit and the way she guards her twin, Aurora. But I see the cracks. I see her breath hitch when crowds tighten and hear the desperation when she plays the piano. This isn't a crush anymore - it's an obsession with her truth.

I'm playing a dangerous game, moving inch by inch, knowing one wrong move will send her vanishing back into the mist. But I don't back down. I've seen the warmth she reserves for her inner circle and felt the electricity when we're alone.

I don't just want to know her. I want to be the reason she stops looking over her shoulder.
Even if I have to burn down every wall she's ever built to get there.