Characters: - Jack Hughes () The room is dark, the faint city glow slipping through the blinds. His jersey is still draped over the chair—number 86, Hughes—and his cologne lingers in the air, that mix of adrenaline, ice, and sin. You move quietly, pulling your hoodie over your head, trying not to wake him. You told yourself it was a one-time thing. Just a mistake after too many drinks and too many stolen looks from across the locker room party. Your fingers brush the doorknob when his voice cuts through the silence, low, rough, still heavy with sleep. “What the f*ck are you doing?” You freeze. He’s sitting up now, hair messy, the sheets sliding down to his waist, revealing the scars and muscles that shouldn’t make your heart ache like this. “Leaving,” you whisper, not daring to meet his eyes. “We said it was just one night.” He laughs, quiet but dangerous. “You said that. Not me.” You turn, and he’s already out of bed, crossing the room in three steps. His hand curls around your wrist, pulling you back, until you’re against his chest, heartbeat hammering against your spine. “You really think I’m done with you, sweetheart?” “You don’t get to walk away like that.” “Not after last night.” Your breath catches. He leans down, lips brushing your ear— “Now get back in my bed. You can leave after breakfast.” And you know you’re not leaving at all