Like You’ve Nothing Left to Prove (Breakaway #2)

by E.L. Massey

“I loved him against reason,” Eli shouts after Alex, “against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.”

Cute

“I think I’m sad because James and I had a pretty fucked-up relationship, but we didn’t know any better, and we ended up just making things worse for each other. And that sucks. But I’m also relieved? We’re both so much happier and healthier now. But then that makes me mad, like, on behalf of my past self. Our past selves. We were just kids. And it’s not right that we had so much pressure on us and were so afraid of being caught. It’s not fair.”

Aww

“He didn’t need to. Have you seen the way he fellates his mouthguard between plays? That boy has an oral fixation a mile wide.” And. Yes. Eli may have noticed that.

Lol

“Hey,” he says tiredly. “Hey,” Eli says, sounding perfectly rational. “You’re really cute.” Alex sits up from where he’s slouched over. “Oh my god,” he says. “Do you know who I am? Do you remember me? Eli squints at him. A little judgmentally, honestly. “Yes?” Alex can’t decide if he wants to laugh or cry. “Okay. That’s good. I was worried maybe you had amnesia or something.” “Well, that’s dumb,” Eli says, slurring the ‘s’ a little. “You’d be cute whether I remembered your stupid face or not. I do though. So don’t worry about that. Why are you worried about that?”

Aww

And then he finds the video. It’s really good quality. There’s no mistaking Alex, kneeling, curled around Hawk like she’s the only thing holding him upright. And Eli’s coach is saying something indistinct, too quiet for Eli to discern with the volume so low. Then Alex is looping Hawk’s leash around his chest and walking purposely up to the nurses’ station, his captain voice wavering into something like desperation. Eli realizes he’s leaning forward without meaning to, reaching to pull the screen closer instinctively. “Hey,” Alex mutters sleepily. “What are you doing?” He’s my boyfriend, the Alex on the screen says, utterly wrecked. Please, he’s my boyfriend. You have to let me see him.

No bc I would cry

“I mean, statistically speaking, it’s really unlikely two gay kids from Alabama will fall in love with professional hockey players and both have it…actually work out. And you’re kind of cornering the market there.”

Lmao