Manon laughed quietly with her coworker, Asterin, who had put on "Barbie Girl" for a boy's eighteenth birthday, per request of his sister. They worked at the local skating rink, watching the smaller kids fall and the older ones and parents circle the center with expert ease. Manon herself was professional, having beat her coworkers in every race they played. Once she'd even gone backwards and beat them. Asterin, however, never ceased to throw it in her face when she'd first gotten here and wiped out not once, but thrice.
"Ooo," Asterin said, watching the customers get their rentals. "Hottie alert."
Manon looked over to find a young man sitting down at one of the padded benches, shucking off his tennies. Beneath his shirt, Manon could see the muscles of his back shift as he reached for a skate. His raven locks fell into his face, blocking his eyes.
"What do you think?" Manon asked. "Pro or newbie?"
"Pro, look at those muscles." She sighed dreamily, leaning onto the counter.
Noticing their stare, the man glance up and damn, those sapphire eyes looked amazing on his handsome, golden face.
Manon looked away, silently cursing Asterin. "I'm going out. Let's see if he's good or just arrogant."
She fastened her rollerblades, straightening her shirt.
"You get 'em tiger." Asterin slapped her ass, earning a glare, as she stepped out onto the floor.
Manon debated flipping her off, but she saw the man standing by the entrance to the rink. She did a lap, helping a fallen child on the way, and found him still there.
"Lost?" she asked him.
He shook his head, stepping off the carpet and onto the floor.
Then he immediately fell on his ass.
Manon held in her laugh. "Need help?"
"No," he said through his teeth, getting up again. Hesitantly, knees locked straight, he skated along the hand rails.
"There's a practice rink if you need it." Manon pointed over to the closed off section where smaller kids tripped and fell all over the place.
The man followed her gaze then snapped his eyes to hers. "I'm fine."
Manon shrugged and moved off, fishnetting the turn. She did two rounds and found the man halfway through his first. He was at least away from the wall now but she watched in amusement as he tried to regain his balance, skates clacking as he went down again. In the booth, Manon saw Asterin point towards him and make an obscene gesture with her hands that made Manon blush slightly. Manon scowled at her cousin, debating flipping her off.
She approached the man, suggesting, "We have walkers."
"I'm fine," he said again, enunciating the word. He tried to get up and fell again, this time on his hands and knees.
"Arrogance is gonna break your tailbone if you don't ask for help."
"Fine, then. Will you help me?"
"No, but a walker will."
He looked up at her sharply, as if he might snap again. But then he said, "Please."
Manon sighed, and maybe it was those startling eyes, but she reached down, grasping his upper arms. She blinked at the muscle, helping him to his feet. Out of the corner of her eye, Asterin was cheering.
"Is this your first time?" Manon asked.
"Yes. Thank you."
She caught him with he wobbled again, a pro skater zooming passed them. "I'm Manon."
"Dorian."
She moved so she was beside him. "You wanna go like this." She demonstrated.
He tried and swung his arms to keep balance. "You make it look easy."
"You're afraid to take your feet off the ground." She showed him again, emphasizing her steps as she circled him.
He nodded, handsome face scrunched in concentration. As he started off, still wobbly, Manon kicked off, turning to skate backwards in front of him. He looked up, concentration broken and fell forward.
Manon cursed, her own feet leaving her when his weight fell over her. They landed on the hard floor, Dorian's hand beneath her head to cushion the impact.
Asterin was dancing.
"Shit, I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Dorian was still cursing, but he wasn't off of her yet.
"I'm fine." She made to get up, frantically untangling their skates. His proximity was making her dizzy.
He got shakily to his feet, clasping her hand to help her up.
"Try again," Manon said, brushing herself off.
He did and almost got halfway down the ring without falling. This time though, he almost landed on a poor, terrified child.
Manon, amused, skated slowly after him. The child got up, moving almost as slowly as he had been. Dorian, however, stayed on the floor.
Manon swung to a stop, staring down at him. "What's wrong?"
"I think-" His voice was choked. "It just hurts a little.
She knelt, reaching out to tenderly prod his left leg. He cursed. The leg didn't feel quite right. Sorrel, another staff, skated up.
"Somebody hurt?"
"I'll be alright," he said.
Manon moved her fingers further up his leg, pressing down a little harder. He grabbed her wrist, teeth bared. Manon looked at Sorrel. "I'll take care of him. It's just a sprain."
"It's fine. I'm fine." He started to get up but didn't make it, throwing his head back in pain and biting his lip. "Okay, not fine."
"Get him to the back room," Sorrel said. "Do we need a wheelchair?"
"We do not need a wheelchair," Dorian growled.
Manon smirked. "I can take it from here. Thank you, Sorrel."
Sorrel nodded and moved off.
Manon reached for the ties of Dorian's skates, undoing a bow. "What are you doing?" he snapped.
"You expect to skate to the exit?"
He frowned, but let her continue.
Manon gingerly pulled the skate off his hurt leg. She easily got the other one and wrapped his arm around her shoulder as she helped him up. She grabbed at his waist, surprised to find his stomach hard beneath her fingers. They weaved their way through the rubber-necked skaters, him leaning heavily on her.
When they managed to get to the med room, Dorian sat heavily on the table.
"Take your pants off."
"Excuse me?" His voice was high.
"Rolling them up will put too much pressure on the knee. Take them off." She leaned against the wall. "Unless you went commando today."
His face twisted again but he stood, carefully on one leg. Unbuttoning his jeans, they only fell part of the way. "I, uh." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Can you help me?"
"Sit back down, I think this might be worse than we thought." She examined his leg, noting the swelling stopping his pants from going further.
"Mother," he said, eyes squeezed tight as if he were holding back tears, "that hurts."
"I'm going to send someone to call an ambulance then do what I can till they come. Stay here."
He nodded, sitting back down. He bit into his sleeve, looking down at his leg.
She disappeared, running quickly to Asterin. "Call an ambulance. It's bad."
Asterin's eyes widened and she lunged for the phone.
Manon went back to Dorian, finding his face pinched. She grabbed the scissors. "Do you care about these jeans?"
"Get them the fuck off."
She cut a long strip up the injured leg, trying oh-so-carefully not to touch the damage and-
"You dislocated it."
"How they hell do you dislocate a knee?"
Manon had no idea. It looked like just another fall, accept his wild attempt not to fall on the child. "The hospital isn't far, the ambulance should be here-"
An paramedic burst through the door, trailing a stretcher. Dorian started, "I think that's a little un-"
He was practically lifted onto the stretcher as the EMTs and paramedics talked over the wound.
Manon waggled her fingers at Dorian as they pushed him through the door.
X-X-X-X-X-X-X
It was several months later when she saw him again. Asterin practically pulled Manon's arm out of its socket when he came in through the door, a pair of Rollerblades in his hand. He gave Manon a smirk.
Manon growled when Asterin tried to push her out the door and went anyway. She rolled over to Dorian, watching as he fastened his skates. "You're knee looks better."
"It wasn't a full dislocation so I didn't need much physical training." He stood, didn't wobble or fall over. "I've been practicing."
"Oh?"
"And I challenge you to a race."
Manon smirked. "I don't think you want to end up in the hospital again."
"I don't think I'll have to worry about that."
"Then, you'll wait till we close." She picked at her long nails. "We wouldn't want any civilian casualties."
He smiled and damn, Manon wasn't one for smiles, but this one was amazing. "I have a condition."
"What would that be?" she asked, raising a groomed brow.
"If I win, go on a date with me."
She narrowed her eyes. "What if I don't want a boyfriend?"
"I didn't ask to be your boyfriend."
"Then what are you looking for?"
He skated closer and she was struck by how much taller he was than her, how much larger. "I'm looking for a first date. Then possibly a second. Then whatever you want."
She twisted her lips. In her last relationship, she'd broken the man's arm when he touched her inappropriately without her permission. But Dorian had shown her nothing but respect, even when she'd taunted him. And he wasn't a bad specimen, she thought, looking at his face, so perfect it could have been carved from marble. Not a bad specimen at all.
"I'll consider," she said and he smiled again.
They spent the rest of the evening lazily skating after each other. He was good, she had to admit. But she had years of experience. At one point she even let him wrap his arms around her waist as they spun together across the floor.
As the people started to filter out with the last shift, Manon explained to Asterin what was happening. Asterin gave a grin. "What're you gonna do when you win?"
Manon shrugged. "We'll see."
Dorian was tightening his skates at the start line. He winked at Manon as she and Asterin rolled over. "You ready to lose?" Manon purred.
He rolled his eyes.
Asterin found her place in the center of the rink. "I want a fair race out here today," she said dramatically, the other employees gathering to watch. "No pushing, shoving, kicking skates, or any other violent actions. Audience, place your bets."
The other eleven coworkers sniggered.
"Three laps," Asterin said to Manon and Dorian as they sank into position. "Ready."
Dorian smirked at Manon.
"Set."
Manon licked her lips, attention zooming to the track. The wheels on her shoes.
"Go!" Asterin roared.
Manon kicked off, losing Dorian in the blur of this speed, her legs working hard, weight shifting as she turned. She counted the paintings on the wall as she passed the first lap, not aware if he was ahead or behind or-
She was almost there. Almost to the finish line when his skate hit hers.
This time, in the tumble of limbs, she came out on top, half sprawled over him. She sat up slightly, hands on his chest. She'd never looked at a man like this.
"We really need to stop doing this," he said with a laugh and Manon was sucked back into reality.
She lunged for the finish line, realizing it was only a few inches away, but his hand was stretched out above his head. His fingers rested on the black line.
"I win, witchling."