The silence that followed was heavy, vibrating with everything they hadn't said. It wasn't hatred that made Quinton’s heart hammer against his ribs—it was the terrifying realization that he didn’t want to let go.
Then came Oakley—brash, loud, and way too talented for Quinton’s peace of mind. Iced Out by CE Ricci
The breaking point happened late one Tuesday, the arena lights dimmed to a ghostly glow. A heated argument over a missed play turned into a shoving match, chest to chest, hot breath visible in the frigid air. The silence that followed was heavy, vibrating with
The winter air in Graystone didn’t just bite; it owned you. For Quinton Rossi, the ice was the only place where the world finally went quiet. No expectations, no legacy, just the rhythmic scrape of blades against the rink. The breaking point happened late one Tuesday, the
"You think you're better than me?" Oakley spat, his fingers gripping Quinton’s jersey.