✧ do you want to take a skate on the ice inside my veins ✧

Elio was absolutely elated, quietly, of course, but inside he was practically glowing. The whole act, the fake dating, the playful cruelty of it all, it was working perfectly in Tess's favour. And honestly? He was having the time of his life. He didn't get to pretend to like girls anymore. At her scoff, he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head with mock disbelief. At her 'boy aquarium' comment, Elio completely lost it. The laugh hit him before he could even try to play it cool, utterly unfiltered as he tipped his head back slightly. “The boy aquarium?” he echoed, half under his breath, like he couldn’t quite believe how good that was. He glanced at her with a wide, delighted grin, eyes sparkling. “Oh my god, that’s evil. I love that little nickname for it." He leaned in a little closer after, still laughing softly, his voice dropping into something more conspiratorial. “Just tapping on the glass, putting them in little timeouts” he added, shaking his head like he was picturing it play out in real time. When she leaned in and whispered that ridiculous t-shirt idea, Elio’s smile widened, his eyes crinkling slightly. He dipped his head closer to hers, voice low and amused. “Oh, please do,” he whispered back, clearly delighted by the image. “I imagine a lot of them would look if it's you wearing it and I can awkwardly stand at your side and wave when they look over from you to me." At her compliment, though, him making her doubt, he let out a soft, breathy laugh, ducking his head just slightly. “Careful,” he teased gently, his voice dropping a touch. “I might start thinking I deserve an award for this performance.” When he wrapped his arms around her and she settled into him, Elio didn’t hesitate. His hold was easy, natural, like it belonged there. He tilted his head just slightly toward hers, playing the part but also not entirely playing. “God loves an asshole. He makes them the prettiest." As they pulled away and Milo fumbled, Elio caught it instantly. His eyes flicked over, a spark of triumph flashing across his face before he turned back to Tess, perfectly in sync with her energy. He laughed, lifting his hand to meet hers with a sharp, satisfying clap. And when she blew Milo a kiss, Elio followed her gaze briefly, a smug little smile settling on his lips, just subtle enough to sting. Oh, this was working. This was really working. He let out a quiet, impressed hum, shaking his head slightly. “Dude missed his shot,” he muttered, just low enough for her to hear, amusement lacing every word. Then he leaned in closer, shoulder brushing hers, a playful confidence settling into his tone. “Damn, I’m really am good at this,” he added, half teasing, half genuinely pleased with himself. Milo didn’t react right away, not in any obvious way, at least. From a distance, it looked like nothing more than a casual, absent-minded movement. He lifted his hand up toward his helmet, fingers brushing along the edge like he was adjusting it, maybe scratching near his temple. But just for a split second, tucked into the motion, his middle finger extended, quick, subtle, easy to miss if you weren’t looking directly at him. Elio was looking, though. He caught it instantly, his brows lifting a fraction before a quiet, incredulous laugh slipped out of him. Leaning in slightly toward Tess, he murmured under his breath, “Oh, wow. Did you see that? He flipped us off. Real subtle. Very classy.”

if there was one person tess loved with all her heart, it was elio. they had been friends for long enough that she considered him her best friend. “you deserve an award, honestly. he's looking at you like you're an actual threat. the poor guy can't even imagine you're about as gay as it gets,” she chuckled, smiling at elio. “i'll take you out for dinner—or ice cream, or whatever you want—after this,” she promised before her attention drifted back to milo. he was furious. it was obvious from the way he fumbled, the way he kept looking over at them. their little plan was working perfectly. they kept just enough distance to make it believable, shoulders brushing, his arm draped casually around her, and then there it was—milo flipping them off from the ice. tess's eyes widened in amusement. “oh, i definitely saw that,” she laughed. without missing a beat, she raised her own hand and flipped him off right back. she had no idea if he'd be able to read her lips from that far away, but she mouthed the words anyway. “take that finger and shove it up your ass.” a satisfied smile spread across her face before she turned back to elio. “not exactly classy of me either,” she admitted with a shrug, “but he could definitely put that finger to better use.” she winked at her best friend. “i'm having way too much fun. i never would've guessed hockey could be this entertaining.” she chuckled before finally relaxing, letting her head come to rest against elio's shoulder. “thanks for this, bestie,” she said quietly. “i hate that i fell for that asshole,” she muttered, shaking her head, “but i absolutely love watching him realise he blew his chance.”

@tesseverly

tess and milo had been playing this game for long enough that she knew, after spending the entire night getting under his skin, he would eventually show up. once the party was over, she found herself getting ready. she didn't want to admit how much she cared, or how much thought she was putting into someone she both liked and hated in equal measure. still, she chilled a bottle of wine, set out a bowl of strawberries, and caught herself fussing over everything. she was a mess. by the time she settled onto the couch, she heard those two familiar knocks. a smirk tugged at her lips. she leaned against the door, listening as his voice came through, impatient and demanding. “who is this?” she grinned to herself, wishing he could see the expression on her face. she could hear the irritation in his voice, laced with just enough regret to make it satisfying. she loved every second of it. after letting him wait for what must have felt like an eternity, she finally opened the door, though she made no move to let him inside. instead, she stood in the doorway, blocking his path. “that's hardly the proper way to knock on a lady's door, milo,” she said, the smirk never leaving her face. “you sound… rather desperate.”

“You’re really enjoying this, huh?” His smile was sharp, amused, and just a little mischievous. “Making him sweat a little." When she pressed that quick kiss to his cheek, he smirked, pretending not to flinch at the unexpected contact, though his eyes sparkled with quiet humor. “Yeah, that’ll get him thinking,” he said softly, letting his gaze follow Milo across the ice before returning to her. Even as he pretended to be completely invested in the act, there was a subtle thrill under the surface, watching her pull this off, seeing Milo react, feeling the easy closeness between them. Elio adjusted his posture just enough to keep it believable, arm still casually over her shoulder, voice low and calm. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, “I’ve got your back, even if I’m supposed to look like I’m into it.” His lips quirked into that small, amused smile, letting her know he was enjoying the game almost as much as she was. Elio let his gaze drift back to Milo just long enough to catch the sharp flicker of recognition, or maybe irritation, in his Milo's eyes. He smirked, just slightly, keeping his arm draped over her shoulders. “Looks like he’s noticing,” he murmured, voice low, more for her than anyone else. “Mission partially accomplished. You know,” he added with a teasing tilt of his head, “if you keep this up, he might need a timeout.” His grin widened, amusement bright in his eyes. Elio let out a soft, ironic laugh, brushing a strand of hair from her shoulder. “It is tragic, really,” he murmured, voice low and playful, “I feel like I’m really giving with this performance.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, the humor tempered with a touch of genuine amusement at how convincing they’d been so far. He shifted slightly, gently guiding Tess so she was perched in front of him. His arms wrapped around her middle, careful but deliberate, holding her in a snug, casual embrace. “One last show for him,” he murmured with a small smirk, letting Milo catch the scene across the ice. The closeness was effortless, intimate enough to draw attention, but light enough to make it look natural, a perfect, teasing statement. Elio tightened his arms just a fraction around Tess, cheek brushing hers, and whispered with a low, amused tone, “I think I’m ruining my own game, all these cute hockey guys are gonna think I’m into girls.” His lips curved into a sly smirk as he let Milo’s eyes wander across the ice, catching Tess in his peripheral vision. Sure enough, Milo’s stick swung a fraction too late, the puck slipped past him as he blinked, completely distracted. “High-five?” he whispered, wiggling his fingers.

elio was her best friend, and maybe others would say they wouldn’t go along with something like this just to make someone jealous, but that wasn’t elio. he was there, putting on a show with her, and she was glad. of course milo was noticing, and she was glad he did. "partially?" she scoffed, "i want him in timeout," she smirked. "i love a game where they put men in timeout, best part of the boy aquarium," she teased, a grin on her lips. "next time we come, i’ll bring a t-shirt that says ‘this is my bestie, he’s hot, gay and single,’" she chuckled, leaning in to whisper it against his ear just for fun. she laughed softly as elio told her he was giving a good performance. "you are, you’re making me doubt you’re into guys for a second, guys should be as gentle as you, even if i’m here sighing over a fucking asshole," she added with a chuckle. as he wrapped his arms around her, she smiled, resting her head in the crook of his neck. when they pulled away and milo lost the puck, she smirked, clapping toward him. "high-fucking-five," she said, high-fiving elio. "i’m inviting you to dinner, boyfriend of the month," tess laughed. she turned to look at milo and blew him a kiss.

Milo leaned back slightly, arms crossed, letting a slow smirk tug at the corner of his mouth. “You know,” he said, voice low, teasing, “I wouldn’t have wanted to swap jerseys anyway. Your team sucks most the time.” His eyes flicked to hers, sharp, assessing, like he was daring her to argue. He gave a small shrug, casual but pointed. “Peaceful exchange, civilised people, yeah, that’s just not us, is it?” Milo’s smirk widened, a flash of amusement crossing his face as he studied her boldness, the way she wasn’t flinching under his gaze. “You aren’t stopping me,” he said, voice low and teasing, almost dangerous. “I have eyes and I can check out what I like when it’s right in front of me.” His gaze drifted down to her hand resting lightly on his chest, and he let out a quiet, sharp laugh. “Subtle? Not really my thing either. Guess that makes us even.” He leaned forward just slightly, smirk softening into something almost, teasingly sincere, though still dangerous. Milo leaned just a little closer, letting his smirk curl darker, teasing. His hand reached out smoothly, wrapping around Tess’s wrist with a firm, deliberate grip, not rough, but impossible to ignore. “You hate me,” he murmured, voice low and slow, letting each word hit just right. “I can see it in your eyes.” He held her gaze for a moment, letting the tension coil between them, then added, a teasing edge threading through the heat in his tone, “And yet, you can’t shake the feeling that I’m inside your head.” Milo’s grip on her wrist lingered, almost a challenge, almost a claim, his smirk sharp but playful. His eyes sparkled with the same dangerous mix of amusement and desire that always made Tess want to snap at him and lean in at the same time. “I guess that’s your problem with me,” he said, grin wicked, voice low and flirty. “I’m hard to ignore. Toxic, maybe, but damn, you like it anyway.”

tess was, in a way, regretting getting close to milo, but another part of her was just glad she did, maybe she was too toxic with herself. as he said he wouldn’t have wanted to exchange jerseys, she rolled her eyes and let the topic die, she wasn’t going to push it, not when he was right, it would’ve never been a peaceful exchange. he was hot, he drew her in, but there were moments she wanted to slap the hell out of him, and then make up with him right after. as he said he had eyes and could look at what he liked right in front of her, she smirked. "is that a confession, knox?" she teased, the smirk still on her lips. as he leaned in, that same smirk lingering, a shiver ran down her back. when his hand wrapped around her wrist, her breath caught and she looked up at him, eyebrow furrowed. "i hate the hell out of you," she corrected, her eyes locking with his, never looking away. she couldn’t deny he was in her head, and if she did, she might say something she shouldn’t, so she stayed quiet, just looking at him until he let go of her wrist, and she pulled her hand back immediately. "i don’t like toxic," she assured, taking a step back, "i think you’re just too full of yourself, not everyone is supposed to like you, milo, even if your little head has convinced you otherwise," she added. she studied him for a second, the smirk on his lips, that effortless confidence. she took a deep breath and pulled a pen from her bag, grabbing a napkin and writing her address on it. she hated herself for what she was about to do. "you’re an asshole, if you have the balls to come, i plan on going to bed at eleven, i won’t open the door after that," she pressed the napkin against his chest before turning away. she didn’t look back, making her way to her team, wrapping her arms around one of them while still glancing at milo.

Milo had heard enough. Not every word, no, he’d admit that much. But he’d heard the tone. The bite. When she snapped that she didn’t need to fake confidence, his mouth curved slowly, lazy and infuriating. “Yeah?” he said, voice low, almost conversational. “Could’ve fooled me.” At the comment about the game, he gave a small shrug, like none of this cost him anything. Like she wasn’t standing there practically vibrating with fire. “I didn’t make you play,” he shot back. “You stepped up all on your own. Don’t act like I dragged you into it.” When she said she just wanted to see him fail, he let out a quiet huff of amusement. “That’s cute,” he muttered. “You thinking you could.” Her eyes never left his. That, more than anything, kept his smirk in place. She didn’t look away. She never did. Even when she should. Then she caught him glancing at her lips. Milo didn’t apologise. Instead, his gaze lifted slowly, deliberately, to meet her eyes again, that same smug look settling in. “I know where your eyes are,” he said calmly. “Trust me.” When she called him disgusting, something in his expression sharpened. Not offended. Not even angry. “I'm disgusting?” he repeated, leaning a fraction closer. “That’s the best you’ve got?” Then she pressed her finger against his chest. That made his eyes drop again, but this time to her hand. He didn’t move it. There it was. The challenge. For the first time, the smugness cracked, not gone, just edged with something darker. More focused. His jaw tightened slightly. When she stepped back and straightened, tossing that light little tease about him looking pretty when he was quiet, he huffed a short laugh through his nose. “You keep talking about guts,” he continued, voice lower now. Steadier. “About what I won’t do.” His head tilted slightly. “Careful, Tess.” A beat. Then his mouth curved again, but this time it wasn’t lazy. “I look pretty all the time,” he told her, like it was a simple fact. “You’re not subtle, Tess.”

that had always been their dynamic—throwing sharp words at each other like darts and somehow still smiling after. it had been like that since the beginning. “i’m pretty sure anyone could fool you,” she shrugged, glancing around the room as if she might find someone more interesting to spend her time on. “actually, i was this close to giving you a second chance tonight—showing up peacefully, maybe exchanging jerseys like civilized people—but then you started it,” she said, nodding like she was the reasonable one here. “i came here with innocent intentions.” her smile stayed perfectly composed as she met his eyes. “and yeah, i think i could,” she repeated calmly. she didn’t look away when his gaze dropped to her lips before returning to her eyes, her jaw tightening slightly at the boldness of it. “then maybe stop checking me out,” she said with a slow smirk. “aren’t your eyes supposed to start bleeding because of the jersey or something? or are you just trying to figure out what size you should buy?” she lifted a shoulder lightly. “no, trust me, there are plenty of things i could say to you right now—that’s just the first one that came to mind.” when his eyes flicked down to where her hand rested against his chest, she noticed the way his jaw tightened. “oh, i’m terrified,” she said flatly, rolling her eyes. “please.” when he mentioned subtlety, she laughed under her breath. “subtle about what, exactly?” she asked, taking a sip from her drink before looking back up at him. “i’m not trying to be subtle. i’ve been pretty clear about what i think of you.” she shrugged casually.

Elio didn’t even try to hide the smirk tugging at his mouth as Tess muttered beside him. He kept his gaze on the players skating around. When she insisted she wasn’t cheering, Elio’s eyes slid to her, slow and knowing. He didn’t call her out directly, he didn’t have to. The way her focus never quite left Milo said enough, but he kept quiet about it all. “Right,” he said lightly. “You’re definitely not emotionally invested. At all.” But when she turned to him with that mischievous smile, he immediately knew he was in trouble. “Oh no,” he said under his breath as she shifted closer. And then she was leaning into him, close. Closer than usual. His posture stiffened for half a second out of sheer surprise when she guided his hand to her waist, but he recovered quickly. If she wanted a performance, he’d give her one. “Pretend I’m straight?” he echoed softly, amused. “That’s the challenge you’re giving me?” He let his hand settle naturally at her waist, fingers resting there with casual confidence. His other arm came up, draping loosely around her shoulders like it had always belonged there. He tilted his head slightly toward hers, lowering his voice just enough to keep the moment intimate. “For the record,” he murmured near her ear, “this is award-winning acting. I expect applause later.” Then he lifted his gaze toward Milo. He leaned down slightly, brushing his cheek against Tess’s hair in a way that looked effortless. “Should I up the stakes?” he whispered. “Hand squeeze? Forehead kiss? I’m committed to the bit now.” But despite the teasing tone, there was a protective steadiness in the way he held her, solid, supportive. He was playing along, yes. But he was also on her side. “Just say the word,” he added softly. “Director Tess is in charge. He's looking."

“i’m not invested in him, that’s all,” she said with a small nod, eyes on the game as they followed the puck across the ice—though every few seconds they drifted back to milo. she’d hate to admit it out loud, but a part of her had come hoping he’d notice her. the idea had formed quickly: sit with someone, look close enough to mean something. elio hadn’t exactly been thrilled about the plan, but when he placed his hand on her waist she smiled softly. “you’re the best,” she whispered. “that’s the challenge—if i can just get him a little pissed, that’s enough. but if he tries to throw hands, we’re calling it off, okay?” she promised, even though she doubted milo would go that far. when elio’s arm draped over her shoulders she leaned into it easily, smiling. “i’ll take you to a wine bar after this and you can order whatever you want,” she murmured near his ear. “actually—if this works, your next date is on me.” she laughed quietly when he brushed his cheek against her hair. “it’s honestly tragic you’re not straight,” she teased. “this is the sweetest a man has ever treated me.” when he told her milo was looking, her gaze slid back to the ice until it caught milo’s. she held it for a second, then smirked before leaning in to whisper something in elio’s ear. “i hope he’s dying of envy right now,” she chuckled, pulling back just long enough to press a quick kiss to her best friend’s cheek before glancing back at milo with raised eyebrows. “did that look convincing?”

Milo didn’t miss a single beat of it. He stood there loose and unbothered, watching her wind herself up like she was performing for an audience that didn’t exist. The insults rolled off him easily, neurons, teams, glass, punches, all of it filed away as noise. He gave a slow, amused huff through his nose, the kind that said he’d heard worse before breakfast. Her bit about competition earned her a raised brow. “No competition?” he said smoothly. “That’s cute. Confidence looks good on people who can afford it.” The smirk sharpened when she called his team a bunch of pussies. “Funny,” he added, tone light, “coming from someone who’s still standing on the safe side of the glass and constantly cheering on the team that sucks." When she scoffed about groupies, he glanced at his phone like she wasn’t even there, scrolling with pointed disinterest. “Polite groupies,” he murmured, half to himself, half to her. “Tragic, I know. Real burden.” He didn’t look up when she accused him of thinking the world revolved around him, just smiled, slow and knowing, like she’d accidentally told the truth. Then she stepped closer. Her fingers lowered his phone, forcing his attention up to her face. Milo rolled his eyes first, dramatic and lazy, before finally lifting his gaze to meet hers. He looked up at her like he’d been expecting this moment all along, jaw relaxed, expression infuriatingly calm. As she laid out her little prophecy, rookies, teeth, sponsors, prettier faces, something smug flickered across his eyes. Because prettier face. When she let go of his phone, he didn’t rush to raise it again. He just held her gaze, the corner of his mouth curling. “You really put a lot of thought into my future,” he said quietly. “Kinda flattering.” His eyes dipped briefly to her lips as she sipped her drink, then back up again, unapologetic. “And hey,” he added, voice dropping just enough to flirt, “if I’m already the original pretty one in your nightmare scenario - I think I’ll survive. just fine.” Milo let out a soft laugh at that, the kind that barely counted as one, more breath than sound. He didn’t even hesitate. The words came out easy, smug, like he’d been holding onto them. “Nah,” he said, eyes raking over her once before settling back on her face, sharp and amused. “You're prettier when you say nothing.” He leaned back slightly after, arms loose, expression infuriatingly relaxed, like he knew exactly what that would do and enjoyed it a little too much. “Anyone ever tell you to shut up before?"

tess could tell he wasn’t really listening, the smug look on his face making it obvious he couldn’t care less about half the words coming out of her mouth. “i don’t need to fake confidence,” she shot back. “i know i have it.” when he pointed out how she’d just called them a bunch of pussies, she tilted her head slightly. “you’re the one who decided to play this game, not me,” she replied coolly. “you know exactly what it would take—but that doesn’t magically make you less of one.” her eyes stayed locked on his, sharp and unflinching. when she stepped back and caught that smirk again, she rolled her eyes. it was like he was only half there, picking and choosing what he wanted to hear. “i just want to see you fail. it didn’t require that much thought,” she said, forcing her tone to stay even. but then his gaze dropped to her lips, and she stiffened. of course—that was the only thing he’d registered. that she’d called him pretty. she hated that he was. hated that he was exactly her type and such an asshole about it. “my eyes are up here,” she snapped, catching him checking her out. when he told her she was prettier when she was quiet, her jaw clenched. “has anyone ever told you you’re disgusting, aside from the obvious asshole part?” she fired back. he’d gotten exactly what he wanted. “you don’t have the guts to shut me up.” she pressed a finger against his chest, eyes blazing. then she stepped back, straightening her posture, expression shifting into something almost amused. “you look pretty when you’re quiet too,” she added lightly, teasing now, like none of his words had touched her at all.

Elio snorted and leaned closer to her, eyes cutting briefly to the ice before settling on her face. “Oh, he knows,” he said flatly. “Every single thing he’s doing right now is for you. He's a fucking showboat." When shot another glare toward the rink, and Elio followed it, watching Milo skate past the boards. “The second he scored, he looked for you,” Elio continued. “That whole stupid hockey-gun thing? Not for the crowd. For you. Men do not peacock like that unless they’re desperate to be seen.” He glanced at her again, arching a brow. “And yeah,” he added, lowering his voice, “pissing you off is absolutely part of it. You don’t cheer, you don’t smile, you glare at him like you want to wrap your hands around his throat. That’s the fun part for him.” He shot another glare toward the rink. His gaze lingered a second longer this time. From across the ice, Milo had slowed, head angled just enough toward the stands, eyes very obviously tracking Tess while pretending to focus on literally anything else. Elio let out a quiet, incredulous laugh. “Wow,” he said, not even bothering to hide the sarcasm. “He really thinks he’s being subtle.” Elio nudged Tess playfully in the side, grin turning wicked, a challenge leaving his mouth. “Distract him,” he whispered. “Try and make him miss.”

tess’ brown eyes stayed on him—no matter how much she hated it, he always managed to steal her attention. “that’s so desperate of him,” she muttered, gaze fixed on the ice as it followed the movement back and forth between her team and milo. “and that stupid hockey-gun thing? pathetic,” she added under her breath. “i just don’t get why he does that,” she said, finally glancing at elio. “of course i’m not cheering. he doesn’t play for my team. cheering for him would be ridiculous,” she insisted, too stubborn to admit her best friend might have a point—not because she didn’t care, but because she’d already decided she was supposed to hate him, no matter how much she actually liked him. even when she could feel milo’s eyes on her, she refused to look, keeping her focus glued to the ice. at elio’s suggestion, though, she slowly turned to him, a mischievous smile spreading across her lips. “oh, you’re going to help me,” she said sweetly. she shifted closer, leaning into his side until her cheek was practically against his chest, guiding his hand to rest at her waist. “i know this isn’t your usual vibe, but let’s see if he likes this,” she whispered in his ear. “just smile and pretend you’re straight for a minute. don’t worry, i won’t make it weird,” she promised. then she settled comfortably against him, finally looking at milo—this time with a bright smile—and even gave him a small wave.

@tesseverly

since she had partnered with the euroville monarchs a couple of seasons ago and they were both sponsored by the same energy drink, she was always given tickets to the matches, and she wouldn’t dare bring anyone but elio. they’d been friends for years, and she loved spending time with her other, very gay half. when she saw milo swoop in, she stood up—not because she was rooting for him, but because she was desperately hoping the goalie on her team would stop the puck. he didn’t. she shouted a loud no right as everyone else stood up cheering for milo, and she dropped back into her seat, eyes locked on the blond as he pretended his stick was a gun, aiming it at her and mock-firing. her jaw tightened when he winked. she shook her head. “i want to hit him with that stick,” she muttered, glancing at elio. “and he knows it. he just wants to piss me off—that’s what turns him on, for sure.”

Milo’s jaw tightened, a sharp laugh cutting out of him as he looked her over like she was wasting his oxygen. “Educating you isn’t a favor,” he shot back flatly. “It’s a necessity. Big difference.” His eyes narrowed, irritation rolling off him. “And don’t flatter yourself—I don’t need to tell you what to think. You’re already doing a great job convincing yourself you’re the smartest person in the room.” He scoffed at the jersey comment, shaking his head. “Out-skate me?” Milo let out a humorless chuckle. “Cute fantasy, Elsa. Try keeping up for one shift without a spotlight and a stopwatch tilted in your favor.” His voice dropped, sharp with certainty. “My team would run laps around you and your team and you know it." At the groupie jab, Milo smirked, unimpressed. “Sponsors rooting for you?” he said, tone dripping with disbelief. “Yeah, sure. And I’m the commissioner. You’re here because it makes you feel important, not because anyone needs you.” He shrugged. When she scanned the room, he leaned in just enough for the bite in his words to land. “They don’t line up. They wait. Difference is, I don’t need them to validate me.” His glare hardened. “As for my name—keep it out of your mouth. It’s already respected where it matters.” He straightened, ego fully intact. Milo finally rolled his eyes, tossing his hands up in exaggerated boredom. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, scrolling casually like her words were background noise. “Everyone on your team wants to be me, Tess. Keep talking."

she noticed the way he looked at her—of course she did, standing there like he was feeding off her energy. “enormous difference,” she rolled her eyes. “if i think i’m the smartest in the room, it’s because i don’t think i have any competition. i mean, i don't get punched and slammed against the glass every—what?—every day of my life. i probably have more neurons than your whole team put together. just science,” she shrugged. “don’t feel bad about it, knox,” she smirked. “not a cute fantasy, a reality. and i wasn’t talking about my team, i was talking about the fact that you’re a bunch of pussies, and i’m not,” she added, still smirking. talking to him was exhausting. she had never been someone who felt small or needed to step on others to feel important, but there he was, managing to make her feel like a little girl, and that made her blood boil. tess went quiet for a moment, her mind racing, searching for the right way to make him choke on his own words. “oh, polite groupies, i love that,” she scoffed. she straightened as he pulled his phone from his pocket, completely ignoring her presence. “no one wants to be a fucking prick,” she muttered, then sighed and looked at him again. “i really love how you think you’re the mvp of every match, like the world revolves around you,” she nodded, biting down on her lower lip. then she stepped closer, lowered his phone so he had to look at her. “but one day, when all the groupies fall for the new rookie, you get punched, lose a couple of teeth, and the sponsors find a prettier face who plays better than you, you’ll be left with nothing but an attitude no one wants around,” she said coolly. she released his phone, took a slow sip of her drink, and looked at him again. “do you want me to keep talking?” she purred.

10 Things I Hate About You (1999), dir. Gil Junger

10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU 1999 — dir. Gil Junger

Milo didn’t miss the eye roll or the way she smiled at him over the straw, and that only made him worse. When she asked if he was finished ranting, he scoffed, leaning back as if he owned the space. “Ranting?” Milo echoed. “No, no—this is me educating you. Big difference. But yeah, grab a chair if you want. Might take a while for it to sink in.” At her snort and sarcastic praise, he grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. “Hey, observation is kind of my thing,” he said. “It’s how I notice details. Like how you talk a lot for someone who’s never even worn the jersey on the ice.” When she snapped back at the groupie comment, Milo lifted his brows, unfazed, almost pleased he’d hit a nerve. “Relax,” he replied, tone light but pointed. “Groupie, superfan, enthusiastic bystander—labels aren’t that deep. You’re still watching from the stands either way.” Then came the tooth comment, and Milo laughed, sharp and unapologetic. “Wow,” he said, slow-clapping once. “Original. Really dug deep for that one.” He tilted his head, eyes flicking to her smile. “For the record, I’ve still got all of mine,” he added. “And fuck myself?” he repeated, scoffing. “Please. I don’t need to—there are plenty of people around here who’d line up to do it for me.”

tess blinked a few times, genuinely incredulous that he’d claim he was educating her. "a dumb hockey player really thinks it’ll take a while for all this shit to sink in? oh, please, do educate me, because i’m just a helpless little girl who needs a big, strong man to tell her what to think," she said, her lips pulling into a mock pout for a split second before her expression hardened. "idiot," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "i don’t need a jersey—what, are you cold? you’ve got all those pads and gear, while i wear a tiny, sheer scrap of fabric and still manage to out-skate you," she added with a sharp smile. "i don't need a smelly jersey, thanks." she realized she hated him in a way she hadn't known was possible. "yeah, i’m watching from the stands, but that doesn't make me a groupie; i wouldn't sell my soul just to talk to someone on the ice. in fact, i’m begged to be here because half the sponsors are actually rooting for me," she smirked. at the mention of his missing teeth, she didn't hold back; she knew exactly how common that was in his world. "not really, it wouldn't be the first time someone’s popped out a prosthetic in front of me," she chuckled. "oh, and your groupies? where exactly are they?" she mocked, shading her eyes with one hand as she scanned the room. "i don't see anyone lining up. if they knew what a massive asshole you were, they wouldn't bother. but hey, believe whatever makes you feel big and strong, knox," she smiled, winking at him before waving over a player passing by. "if you hadn't been such a prick about the whole 'i have honor and won't change teams' thing, i might have offered to swap shirts so you could finally have a respectable last name on your back. but you went all caveman on me and lost the opportunity of a lifetime."

Milo furrowed his brow the moment her last comment landed, the corner of his mouth tugging into a crooked, unimpressed smirk. He shifted his weight, arms folding loosely across his chest. He let out a short scoff, shaking his head. “Qualified?” Milo repeated, tone dry and unapologetic. “Yeah,” Milo shot back, voice cool but biting, “coming from a team that’s benched more than it’s holding trophies—second in the championship and still acting like first.” His eyes flicked briefly to the logo on her shirt before returning to her face, confidence settling in like it always did when he talked hockey. “Black probably does look good on me,” he added, voice calm but sharp, “but I don’t downgrade just for aesthetics. My team actually shows up when it counts. We're the number one team to beat for a reason." He leaned in just enough to make the point land, eyebrow still knit. “So no—switching teams isn’t on my list. Someone’s gotta keep the competition honest,” he said, then straightened, giving a half-smirk. “And your team?” Milo shot back, voice blunt and unapologetic. “Tess, you don’t even play. You talk like you’re on the roster, but last I checked, standing rinkside doesn’t count.” His gaze flicked over her outfit and back to her eyes. "Aren’t you just the groupie?” he added flatly. “Cheering loud, wearing the shirt, acting like the wins are yours.”

she loved how easily she could get under his skin, especially as he bit back after she’d teased him about being on the wrong team. he talked to her like she was the opponent, acting as if she were the one who’d spent more time benched than holding trophies. she didn’t bother answering, only rolling her eyes and grabbing her drink, smiling at him while he kept going. as he continued his streak, she took a slow sip through a thin black straw, holding his gaze over the rim. "have you finished sounding like the king of the rink or do you want to rant for longer?" she asked, "just asking in case i need to grab a chair or something," she mused. when he pointed out that she wasn't even on the team, she just snorted. "you're such a good observer—yeah, i'm not a tall, broad guy who thrives on testosterone; you're really good at this game, milo." but as soon as he called her just a groupie, her face shifted, the smile vanished, and 'nice tess' disappeared instantly. "oh, yeah, go fuck yourself, knox," she spat, "i would never be a groupie for anyone. i like this team and i cheer for them, fine, but the only fan club i'm in is my own." she flashed a sharp smile. "as if shooting a piece of plastic was actually difficult; all you do is fight each other and act like gorillas in heat. what’s the hard part? oh right, not losing a tooth—how many of those have you lost already, milo?"