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Victim-Blaming

last update Dernière mise à jour: 2025-03-26 06:22:31

Noah's P.O.V

The rink was empty when I got there, just as I'd expected. Most of the floodlights were off and the single ones on were off in the corner, casting long shadows across the ice. The air was cold, even through my jacket, and my breath was making white puffs in front of me. November had barely begun, but the first snowfall of the season had begun to dust the ground outside.

Anyway, I moved silently over the ice, squinting until I finally saw Dorian standing near the box where players' relatives usually sat during the games, gripping his hockey stick like he'd just finished a game. He was drenched in sweat, even in this cold, as he slowly moved his skates from side to side anytime he rocked forward. I could tell he'd been here for a while, probably hitting pucks into an empty net, over and over again as he tried to burn off whatever storm had been brewing inside him.

However, that storm was still there and I could feel it.

He turned at the sound of my footsteps when I got clos
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