The assassin is flirting with him. Alistair is not impressed. No, really, he's not!

“You know, you’re the one to beat this year,” Jiang Cheng offers helpfully, having seen the glare from right next to him. “Hanguang-jun’s been through juniors with the rest of us, he knows all of our tics. You’re an unknown variable, since he’s never competed against you before.” “Thanks,” says Wei Wuxian drily. “That’s very comforting.” Or: five nighthunting competitions where Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were rivals, and one where they weren't.

Sid didn’t introduce himself in the hallway, and he certainly doesn’t assume that people know who he is. So it would only be polite to thank Malkin again, this time more personally. He could write him a letter. An email? No, a letter.

Sidney always knew his family would pick who he ended up with. It was how things were done, and no matter what the outside world thought, he'd never questioned it before because it was just the reality: ice was frozen, getting checked against the boards knocked the wind out of you, one day Sid would be matched to someone his parents and the matchmaker and his aunts and uncles and his community thought was the best fit for him. And best of all, Sidney wouldn't have to worry about it. He would just focus on hockey. He'd deal with it one day. Eventually. 'One day' had seemed so much farther away when he was younger.