My Love on the Ice

•Just a guy•

"Lays. Hot Cheetos. Hot Cheetos Limón." Reece goes around to all the guys in the locker room handing out the snacks that they had asked for. We don't have vending machines at our rink and so this is a rare chance that a lot of my teammates are taking advantage of, including myself.

Cracking open a bag of Lays I look over the plays sketched out in my lap. This is just a normal game, nothing too big, but we still want to give it our all. Well.. Maybe this is a pretty important game. It was the first game with our new player. Harley has been working with the coach on these lights and stuff and they can also communicate with some pretty basic signs. I'm not going to lie.. it's kind of cool seeing him grow like this in just a month.

The next hour goes by in a blur. It's full of chaos, just to organize the game and get us on the ice.  

Soon enough everyone is in their equipment and we slowly shift out of the locker room heading down to the rink. Inside my gloves, my hands start to tremble and the anxiety now hits me in full force. The walk from out of locker room to the rink is a very slow one.

My shoulder gets tapped, "Hey wheres Harley?" Reece leans over me, having to practically yell over the crowd a few feet in front of us.

Harley? Speaking of which I haven't seen him for a bit. Where is he? I start to look around and when I can't see him I move to my tip toes, toeing off the very edge of my skate. He's not here..

My stomach flips as panic starts to cloud my once overwhelming anxiety. I look over my shoulder with wide eyes, "I'm going to go look for him. Tell coach if he asks." I then push past Reece and the rest of my team, getting a few grumbles from them, but I finally start to make my way down the rubber hallway.

Where could he be and why was he missing? He doesn't seem like the type to go and look for conversation or any sort of confrontation.

As my panic heightens by the second I round a corner and find him at last.

He's in his hockey gear that practically swallows him since it looks like he's trying to shrink away from his own skin, . Sat on the floor he's rolled into a ball shaking so much worst then I am.

I rush over, pushing his discarded gloves off to the side and dropping to my knees with my hands on his shoulders. As soon as he looks up at me I realize that he's hyper ventilating so much so that his body is shaking violently, almost in a seizing manner. Seemingly unable to breath or focus, his blood-shot eyes dancing over my face.

I need to get him to look at me, but how?!

The First thing I try is, lifting his head using my thumb and forefinger to make sure he looks at me, dropping my hand from him I sign to him "breathe" and then grab one of his wrists I yank it toward my body, resting his balled fist on my chest. Next, I lift his head again and start to take my own respective deep breathe.

He seems to watch me blankly and continue to shakily hyperventilate. I don't give up though, keeping his eyes on mine and pressing his hand that's on my chest-pads closer, so he feels the rise and fall.

Harleys eyes search mine and he starts to nod as he focuses on his breathing. We sit there, breathing. Our breathes are in time with each other when Harleys eyes shift to his hand on my chest, slowly the fist starts to unroll until his hand is laying flat on my chest. It really shouldn't be that big of a deal since I had my pads on under my jersey but still, my hold tightens on his wrist.

His brown eyes shift back to mine and I see the tension ease, I see his eyes focus back on the world, I see him breath normal again. Thank god.

Slowly I let go of his hand and as I do I realize I didn't want to.