Ice King Obsession
the heavy smell of sweat and metal wafted through the air. That’s when she saw him. Atticus Finch, half-unzipped jersey, tape wrapped around his wrists, stood near the locker room entrance. His hair was damp, his eyes sharp, his expression unreadable as if always calculating, always judging. He looked like a man who never needed anyone. Sheila felt her skin prick. She stopped, making herself breathe the way it should. She did not want to be seen as nervous. She didn’t want to indicate that he impacted her. He looked up, as if feeling her gaze. Their eyes met. Not in a romantic way. Not in a “fate” kind of way. In a way like being stared down by a predator. Atticus's lips curled into a small
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