⋆｡˚୨ 𝑳𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒅𝒆 ୧˚｡⋆

"I'm okay," there was a weak attempt to push Ilya off. But the pain shot through his arm and he was stuck withdrawing his arm back to his chest and taking in a deep breath. Shane was not someone that complained about pain often. He had a high pain tolerance. "The medic said that I was going to be okay," he added quickly, but they both knew that Montreal's bottom line was making sure that Shane could play. And if it wasn't broken or actively dislocated, they weren't going to be so concerned about it. He'd played the rest of the game that way. He pulled his shirt off with some difficulty, revealing a deep bruise on his shoulder.

"Have you tried telling that to your face?" Ilya asked dryly, clearly not buying whatever bullshit excuse Shane was trying to sell him. "You think I believe under-qualified Montreal medic when I can clearly see you in pain?" The Boston Raiders captain admitted, annoyance written all over his face, but of course, it wasn't being directed at Shane. Ilya could never be annoyed at Shane. "Please, tell me honestly; how bad is it?"

maisie   almost   choked   on   her   straw   at   the   question.   her   eyes   darted   up   at   the   man   like   he'd   just   shot   her   family   pet.   “what?   no!   fuck   you!   i'm   not   a   narc.   why   would   you   ask   me   that?"

Zed couldn't help but grin over Maisie's reaction to his question, taking a drag from his cigarette before shrugging his shoulders and leaning closer towards the brunette. "You're asking too many questions," he explained in a quieter voice, subtly nodding his head toward a group of degenerates who seemed to be watching them a little too closely.

“As many as I want,” Shane huffed out, crawling his way up the bed and ignoring the comment. It was like Ilya had never been in a place that Shane owned. If there was one thing that his interior decorator was going to do; it was make damn sure that he had more pillows than was necessary. And he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed being able to flop back onto them. Even if picking them off the floor was significantly less fun. He lay back, looking towards him with a raised eyebrow. “Are you going to keep complaining or come here?”

"Ah, designer's fault... Sure you don't have secret back problems? That reason why you need so many pillows?" Ilya asked, hoping that he wasn't being too obvious about his question being genuine rather than one of his usual dry humoured quips. "Hollander, you really have to ask?" He teased, a coy smirk appearing as he removed his jacket; allowing it to fall to the floor before crawling up the bed to Shane. "Is this better, Mr. Real Estate?" Ilya asked teasingly, smiling softly as he pressed a gentle kiss to Shane's lips.

"i cut them out of my life," she paused, shaking her head slowly. "friends don't kiss other friends boyfriends.." rose sighed, smiling after. "but hey, i have you! that's all that matters!" her smile danced on her face from ear to ear, the blonde always had a way of finding the bright side of things.

"Good, you deserve so much better than that... uncrunchy leaf." Laila stated, not the type to name call anyone, but this seemed like the perfect opportunity. "No, they don't. Although, I still really wish you would've let me slap them both," she admitted with a slight grin, blushing slightly as Rosemary gushed over their friendship. "Yeah, well, unfortunately for you, I don't come with a return policy; so I guess you're stuck with me." The brunette teased.

considering brandon hasn't seen them in awhile, he was happy to have recognized them. "hey! it's been a minute," he smiled, his tone and demeanor both calm, but with a splash of excitement. "how have things been? been a bit gloomy for me, but i'm chillin as always." he mused, chuckling towards the end of his words.

Hearing his familiar voice, Chantelle instantly beamed as she quickly turned to face the older man. "Brandon! Hey! It's so good to see you!" She gushed, instantly opening her arms to invite him for a friendly embrace. "I'm good, thank you!" Chantelle started, her smile and cheerful demeanour faltering for a moment as the other admitted things had been gloomy for him. "Of course, your dad... I'm so sorry for your loss, Brandon. How have you been?"

( txt ➞ Принцесса ) : Don't make it such a big deal. 🙄 ( txt ➞ Принцесса ) : I think yes. Maybe it's a first date. ( txt ➞ Принцесса ) : We never spend more than a couple of hours together, but this time we have the whole afternoon. Maybe day. Should I cook?

“Shit,” he groaned, because yes, he couldn’t deny that straight men were truly a problem. “I’m sorry, Alina,” he said, because honestly that was the best place to start. He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. “He’s a piece of shit, and you deserve better. Someone who can wait until you’re ready and isn’t such a dick,” Shane said, and he knew that she had to know that deep down. And he made a mental note to find out exactly who he was, especially if he played hockey. Shane didn’t fight often, but he could if he needed to.

"You won't tell Ilya, will you? I mean, you can, if you feel like he needs to know. But I don't want him to go on a manhunt and attempt to rip the guy's head off— cause he's easy to find... Always boasting on social media about dating a Rozanov." The brunette admitted, not really minding that Shane could easily go on his phone and find the boy who had recently broken her heart; mainly because she knew Shane would be less likely to fly off the handle, unlike her brother.

Leah looked back to him. She unzipped her jacket showing markings on her neck, that Jerry had choked her out previously. "Is that enough detail for you, Zed?" Then she zipped her jacket back up blinking slowly. "Leah Sullivan, yes." Not sure if she should be comfortable or scared for herself.

Typing out his passcode, Zed opened the safe with ease and scanned over the page dedicated to Leah in his notebook; pulling out a brown paper bag and putting in everything she had gotten from him recently; throwing in a genuine box of painkillers for free, as well as a small tube or Arnica Bruise Cream, before locking his safe and setting everything back in it's unsuspecting place and finally making his way back over to the girl; holding the paper bag out for her to take. "Did I forget anything?"

"And nothing." Leah brushed it off. Taking one of the generic branded colas and popping it open. "Look, I'll pay you back somehow..." She said softly. She wasn't known to bullshit people, and knew better than to lie to her dealer either. "Anything you want...and yeah, if you could fix me up. Again." Then Leah had taken a sip from her cola. "I'm sorry."

"You sure about that?" Zed hummed, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, the older man scanned over Leah's appearance; trying to work out whether there was more to the story or not. "If there's any little details that you're trying to keep from me, you better start spilling... Cause you know me, Leah. I'll go find Jerry myself, and we'll have a big problem if his story is different to yours." The dealer warned, pulling out his tattered pocket-sized notebook and scanning through a few pages before landing on Leah's name. "Leah Sullivan, right?"

“It is a Rozanov coping mechanism that rarely actually works,” Shane argued, and for Alina it was much more dangerous. He knew that he probably wouldn’t get it, but he would try and that was the best that he could do. “He told me that you had one, but not much about him, mostly just that there’s distance,” more than what they had to deal with during the season. But not as bad as the summers had been. “What happened?” 

"And I— I said that I would try it for him, if he wanted. He said sure, and that was fine... So, after my last skating competition in LA, I went to his house to surprise him... My friends helped me do my hair and makeup, and I— I really tried to look nice for him. I knocked on the door and he didn't answer, but he told me where I could find his spare key if I ever needed it. So, I... I went inside, and I heard something upstairs..." Alina started, quickly wiping away stray tears as she continued to refuse to meet Shane's gaze. "I went up the stairs, opened his bedroom door, and he— he was with someone. An older woman. Experienced woman."