Asra > Recent Status Updates

It hurt him just to say her name. Juliette

“I’ve heard the rumors. I don’t think you hate the Montagovs at all. I think you’re trying to protect Roma Montagov.”
Juliette became utterly still. It was not fear that overtook her, nor any sort of intimidation that Tyler had sought to incite. It was indignation, and then hot, hot anger. She would tear Roma Montagov apart before she ever protected him again.

She didn’t know why she was bothering. She should have thrown him to the Scarlets, let them deal with him.

No,she decided. He is mine to deal with. He is mine to destroy.

These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
Which, as they kiss, consume.

—Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

Maybe I can make it easier for others by going first.

My boy !!

"You think you are the only gay guy in the NHL?"
No. Scott was sure that he wasn't, but he felt like he was, all the time. It was a lonely horrible feeling. And those other secretly gay players must be feeling it too. Maybe he could change all that. Maybe he could make it easier for them.

To know that the two people he loved the most had touched the skin of Ilya Rozanov, and had looked into his eyes, even for a second, and that Shane now had concrete proof that all three of them existed in the same world.

they would shake his hand and Ilya would nod politely at them and tell them it was nice to meet them. Then it would be over, and they would have no idea—no idea—how much of a relief it would be for Shane to have witnessed just that simple contact.

“I like you, Hollander.”
It wasn’t an earth-shattering confession, but the words still moved
Shane enormously.
“I like you too, Rozanov.”

“Mine.” Ilya’s breath tickled Shane’s skin when he spoke the single
word.
“Yours,” Shane said dreamily.
“All of this. For two weeks. Is mine.”
Forever, Shane wanted to say. Forever if you ask.

“Don’t tease me,” Ilya said. “I have waited too long for this.”
“Mm. Months.”
“Years,” Ilya sighed. “Years I have wanted to have you in your real
bed.”
Shane froze. “Years?”
Ilya wrapped long fingers around Shane’s jaw, and tilted his head up to
meet his gaze.
“Yes.”

Shane laughed. “You wanna kiss me on television?”
“Yes. After I win the Stanley Cup.”
Shane spread his arms out. “Oh, so in this romantic scenario, you’ve
just defeated me?”
“Yes. Sorry.”
“I’m not going to be in the mood to kiss you if I’ve just lost the Stanley
Cup, Rozanov.”
“But you would be so proud of me!”

Ilya cheated and murmured, “I would stay here forever if I could” in
Russian. He felt Shane sigh around him, but it sounded more dreamy than
exasperated. Maybe he understood what he meant. Maybe some feelings
couldn’t be hidden behind foreign words.

“I have an idea,” Shane said.
“What?”
“Let’s be honest with each other. For these two weeks, let’s just...say
what we’re actually thinking. Maybe...say how we really feel.”
I can’t, Ilya wanted to say. I can’t because if I do you’ll think I’m
pathetic, or, worse, you’ll say it back and then what the fuck are we
supposed to do?

Scott fucking Hunter was kissing a man. Not, like, one of his teammates
on the cheek in an “I love you, bro” kind of way. Scott Hunter was kissing
a man wearing street clothes full on the fucking mouth.

“I’m fucked,” he murmured in Russian. “I am so fucking in love and it’s
horrible.”

Was he? What you needed?
“No. He just wasn’t...”
Ilya needed to hear it. “Wasn’t what?”
Shane clenched his eyes shut and said, “You. He wasn’t you.”

“Something wrong?” he asked.
“No. But... I think I’d rather see your face.”

He’s never going to be your boyfriend, Shane.

HE WOULD!!

I want to become American. Or Canadian. But I am in America,
so...”
In that moment, Shane wished like hell that Ilya played for a Canadian
team.
“You should,” Shane said. “Have you looked into—?”
“We should get married,” Ilya said.
“What?” Shane flushed right down to his toes.
“Not to each other,” Ilya said. Then he started laughing and couldn’t
stop.

“Should you really be alone right now?” Shane asked.
“I am not alone,” Ilya said. “You are here now, yes?”
Shane’s hand flew to his chest to make sure his heart was still beating;
he could have sworn it had just melted into a gooey puddle.

“Hollander.”
“How are you holding up, Ilya?”

Call him by his name Ilyaaaa

That admission would have been embarrassing enough, but Ilya had also
slipped in an “and on top of everything, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with
you and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“I wish you were here now.”
Shane couldn’t believe he had actually allowed himself to say that out
loud. They didn’t wish to be together. They reluctantly hooked up when
they were in the same city because it was something to do.
He felt his mortification melt away when Ilya said, in a low voice, “Me
too.”

“Just...call me, all right? If you need to talk. Or text me. Whatever.
But... I’ll listen. I want to help, if I can.”
Ilya was silent for a moment. “You did. Thank you.”

Your father?”
“Yes. Dead.”

MY SHAYLAAA

if we’re in the same city and you want to just talk instead of...”
Ilya cracked a crooked grin at that. “Instead of?”
“As well as?”
“I like that better.”

“Goodnight. Shane.”
A jolt of pleasure zipped through Shane’s body every time Ilya called
him by his first name. “Goodnight, Ilya.”

we should go somewhere
where on earth would we go?
We’ll climb a mountain. Find a cave.