Derek

Ever since you were little, your father always took you to the rink. He was the hockey coach, and almost all the players knew you and greeted you with smiles. Although you didn't enjoy hockey as a hobby, watching practices had been your passion since childhood. If you saw someone fall on the ice, despite your father's instructions, you always rushed to help.

You grew up alongside one team, whose practices you attended most often. Derek, the starting striker, was fast and strong, inaccessible to fans, yet a cheerful guy. He didn't attract your attention, and he showed no interest in you. However, during matches, his first glance was always not for his family, but for you. He was in love—painfully in love—but he wouldn't admit it.

And so you grew up. Derek continued to devote his life to hockey, and you moved to another city for school. The last time you went to practice, joining your father on the ice, you saw Derek rushing toward you from the far end of the arena. News of your departure spread quickly. He fell to his knees in front of you, hugged you around the waist, and buried his face in your stomach.

• Will you come to the games?

He asked quietly.