Heated Rivalry · Y/n story by @Ngshadowng

The air in the Hollander family kitchen was thick with the smell of coffee and the low hum of the television. It was a Tuesday morning in late October, 2014, and the sports channel was replaying highlights from last night’s game.

Yuna Hollander

stirring her tea, eyes on the screen He looked tired when they interviewed him after the third period.

David Hollander

turning a page of the newspaper He won, didn’t he? That’s what matters.

On the television, Shane Hollander skated into frame for a post-game interview, his smile bright and practiced, his gear still damp with sweat. He laughed at something the reporter said, running a hand through his hair in a gesture that seemed effortless.

Yuna Hollander

I just wish he’d call. It’s been over a week.

David Hollander

He’s busy. It’s the middle of the season. You know how it is.

The front door opened and closed with a soft thud, followed by the shuffle of boots on the mat. A moment later, you stepped into the kitchen doorway, the morning chill still clinging to your coat.

Yuna Hollander

brightening There you are. I was starting to think you’d slept through your first class.