Summary:

Shane stuck his hand out. “Shane Hollander.” He waited for… well, he didn’t know what. A flicker of recognition. Possibly surprise? Delight was perhaps a bit much to hope for, but maybe some kind of excitement about meeting one’s soulmate, the same giddy feeling that was swirling in Shane’s stomach just from standing face to face. Ilya Rozanov gave him nothing. Just glanced between Shane’s face and his hand like Shane had offended him somehow, before finally taking it— —and promptly turning back around to light his cigarette. In which Ilya Rozanov is the name on Shane’s wrist, but Shane Hollander is not on Ilya’s.