Sasquatch to the Moon

20: Green Eyes, Green Eyes Like You've Never Seen Before

YETI

"Yeah, yeah I'm completely in love with someone and they don't know."

I smile, "tell me about him."

"Taller than me, definitely one of the biggest guys on the team, quiet."

"On the team?"

He pales, realizing he's probably told me too much, "right, he plays with us, which is a bad decision, but."

"Taller than you leaves a couple options, not many," I think. "Shy did you say?"

He pauses, then: "...yeah."

"Finnican?"

"No."

"Ukkovvsky?" 

"No." 

"St. Peters?" 

"No." 

"Patrick?" 

"No." 

"Fen's not bigger than you but."

"Not Fen."

"Jorgen doesn't play with us?"

None of the rest of the team is taller than him and shy. Hell none of the rest of the team is taller than him. It's what happens when he looks like a 5'10 guy who was grabbed on either end and stretched. 

None of the rest of the team but me.

"Not him either," Rocket waves me off, "me later, what's something really defining about yours?"

I pause, scanning him, his body language, how he's leaning into the conversation, how his eyes don't tend to stay on mine, how they flit all across my body, how he looks. How flushed his cheeks are, how fidgety his hands are. Shy, tall... he said in the car that he would be into me, that I was his type. 

fuck, this is a shot in the dark but he makes me feel things I never want to stop feeling. 

I stare at him for another long moment, his every breathtaking detail, the thin silver chain around his neck, tucked into his shirt, the sweatpants that taper at his ankles, his thin build that seems somehow more threatening than any bulky guy I've ever squared off with. He's scrappier, faster. 

I stare at the harsh slope of his nose, the cut of his jaw, his eyebrows that I can't describe in any other way than perfect for him. 

Fuck it. 

"Green eyes," I look at him, he better be talking about me. "Bottle green eyes like nothing you've ever seen before. Green eyes that match their helmet just perfect. Green eyes that catch me off guard every day. Green eyes that make me lose my breath. Green eyes that make me feel things I shouldn't be feeling." Rocket furrows his eyebrows at me. "Green eyes that look great in the sunlight in Tampa. Green eyes that match the trees in Toronto. Green eyes that glint like the sea in Boston. Green eyes that blend in perfectly with the Minnesota jerseys," catch the hint, catch the hint, catch the hint. "Green eyes that make me come right out of my shell. Green eyes that I've woken up to and want to again. Green eyes that I've fallen for completely and fucking irreversibly."

Rocket is staring right at me with those eyes. He's staring at me. He's thinking. "Håkon?" I have the urge to croon. Håkon.

My pulse is roaring in my ears. "Your eyes, Milo, you, It's you."

"You like me?"

"Like you?" I breathe hard, "Milo you've been the only thing in my head for months. I'm over the fucking moon about you."