a quick fix | harper & ethan
@ordinaryillusion
There was little to hide the arrival of sports students, their loud voices booming the hallway – shouting their outmost feelings into the void as they trespassed into the dorms of some helpful souls known as the nurse majors. There was no regard for the late hours, filled up with life and spirit past their latest session inside the college ice rink, which had led to some hefty bruises and swollen lips. Harper was no stranger to the chants, living near the entrance and being far too easily distracted each and every time he caught a whim of those familiar voices. Today was no different, as he had already removed an earbud out of its place to listen in on their guests in the hallway, his pen tapping lightly at the book by his side as he hoped to hear something more… specific. Or, rather a someone.
There was a faint blush of shame creeping over his cheeks as he caught him in the act, eyes diverting from its former spot by the door and back towards the task he had in front of him. He had assignments to finish, tests to study for and yet the urge to pry into the matter of the team outside rang higher than anything else on his list of priorities. He didn’t have to stick around for long, did he? A casual check-up to make sure everyone was alright wouldn’t be too far-fetched, was it? After all, he was supposed to be a future aid and this was his way of earning knowledge through practical training.
Inhaling through his nostrils, Harper found himself stuck at a crossroad of choices but eventually decided to go with his guts of leaving his room and assignment for later. Thus, with that, Harper pushed himself out of his chair with a brief reminder to breathe as calmly as one could the second he trespassed into open dorm grounds. He could hear the many voices echo from the common room; laughter of both the cocky and childish kind as he approached the gathering of people. Then he stopped in his tracks, clearing his throat in a singular notion to call attention to himself in front of the major crowd. “Why do you guys always have to be so rough with one another? I swear one of you is eventually going to break something before a proper game and you only have yourself to blame for it.” There was a sigh as his eyes scanned the guests, crossing his arms much like a disappointed and exhausted mother. “You don’t deserve anything but a slap on the wrist if you ask me, but that would go against my calling. Now… who’s first?”
High energy and voices a touch above the acceptable decibel range carried from the indoor ice rink to the dorms nearby, the thrill of the game, even if came in the form of practice matches, set them off into another round of cheers and nonstop chatter, and Ethan was right in the thick of it. Usually, a quiet soul, preferring to keep to himself games were the only time he was boisterous --- the sport demanded it, and he delivered. As Canadian natives, ice hockey ran in the Price family bloodstream, especially in the children. Age changed a lot of things, while his siblings were content to leave the sport as their hobby, Ethan decided to pursue it as a career, it helped that he had nothing else to fall back on; academics weren't his strong suit, he severely lacked creativity and the musical gene definitely skipped him and dominated in his younger sister instead, so really, hockey was all he had going on.
Adrenaline soon gave way as tiredness suck in. The second he fell into one of the many beanbags that littered the common room, sharp pains rippled across his body, making him involuntarily flinch in response. His teammates were not forgiving, and the ice was even less. A brief look around told him this was a sentiment shared by everyone, but no one complained, and rightly so, there were all here for the one thing, what were a few bruises and split lips? It was all for the game.
Flexing his fingers, multiple times, to dissipate the pain in his knuckles, Ethan simply listened to the chatter that took over the since the cheering had died down, mind bouncing from thought to thought landing on nothing particular until a dark-haired boy decided to wander into the room and held his attention making it a struggle to shift his focus onto anything else after that. A small smile tugged at his lips as he listened to Harper call them out for quite possibly the hundredth time this season, while he had a point, nothing to quench the energy they held during games. Looking up at Harper was a mistake. Instead of meeting his eyes, Ethan caught the looks his friends sent him, causing him to take a sudden interest at the colour of the floor as he tried his best to cool the blush that began to creep across his cheeks.
He was briefly aware of the concerned chiding from Harper and some snark back at him from his teammates, possibly telling to relax or something along those lines - it had become routine talk at this point, but the rest of the conversation was lost on him as he tried to think of something to say, and it took his name being called out for him to snap back to reality to find more than a few fingers being pointed in his direction.
His confusion must've been apparent because, after an eye roll in his direction, Miles spoke up, "Price first. He took a nasty hit - completely deserved it mind you, who else would willingly try and block my shot? Only a damn fool, but anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah...I shoved him into the plexiglass." Laughter filled the air and even Ethan couldn't help but join in.
"Hey, saved it though didn't I? Worth it." he defended but the pain that drummed through his hand told a different story. "But yeah, I'll go first." With one strong push, he lifted himself off the comforts of the beanbag and in three strides he was beside Harper. "Hi," he greeted the other with a warm smile on his face, "Sorry we keep doing this to you, I can just put an ice pack on call it a night. You don't hav---" But the rest of that got cut out by a sharp yell in their direction.
"Sorry about your face, mate!"
"My face?" he asked turning back to Harper, "What's wrong with my face?"