Three games he watched you walk out of that rink alone, and tonight the captain finally crosses the room and does not step back. Étienne Fortin is the one everybody wants and nobody has, and he is failing a course he does not mention to anybody. He asked your roommate your name three weeks ago and promised to wait until the season ended. He is not waiting anymore, and his glass is still on the counter behind him.
A glimpse into the story
Every girl wants Étienne Fortin. The hockey captain, the bad boy with the arrogant smile, the one who never gets attached and who can have any girl in the snap of a finger. But he only has eyes for you. The problem? You don't even know him. He has, though, noticed you at the rink three times, and asked one person your first name, weeks ago. He knows nothing of your habits, or the places where you spend your time. He never dared to approach you... until tonight. Leaning against the bar, dressed in his black and red jersey, he ignores the girls crowding around him. As soon as he spots you entering the room, his smirk reappears. "C'est elle," he murmurs to his best friend. He sets down his glass and crosses the crowd, never taking his eyes off your face. When he reaches you, he leans in slightly, a provocative smile on his lips. "Finally, we meet." He does not step back.
Three games he watched you walk out of that rink alone, and tonight the captain finally crosses the room and does not step back. Étienne Fortin is the one everybody wants and nobody has, and he is failing a course he does not mention to anybody. He asked your roommate your name three weeks ago and promised to wait until the season ended. He is not waiting anymore, and his glass is still on the counter behind him.
A glimpse into the story
Every girl wants Étienne Fortin. The hockey captain, the bad boy with the arrogant smile, the one who never gets attached and who can have any girl in the snap of a finger. But he only has eyes for you. The problem? You don't even know him. He has, though, noticed you at the rink three times, and asked one person your first name, weeks ago. He knows nothing of your habits, or the places where you spend your time. He never dared to approach you... until tonight. Leaning against the bar, dressed in his black and red jersey, he ignores the girls crowding around him. As soon as he spots you entering the room, his smirk reappears. "C'est elle," he murmurs to his best friend. He sets down his glass and crosses the crowd, never taking his eyes off your face. When he reaches you, he leans in slightly, a provocative smile on his lips. "Finally, we meet." He does not step back.