Deep breath in, hold.
Deep breath out.
I finish lacing up my skates and take a tentative step out onto the ice. This is the first time I've skated in over a year, and I'm nervous. Not because I think I'll fall or lose my balance, but because I can't stop thinking that I've disappointed him.
I shift my weight and glide forward, feeling the smooth ice like velvet under the sharp blades of my old, comfy skates. Though I'd received new skates from various people to congratulate me for my hard work, I really preferred this pair above all the rest of them because they were soft, molded to my feet after years of careful wear. It almost felt like wearing nothing, the white leather just a part of my natural legs. I remember the first time I ever laced them up, and the last time they were laced up… by someone other than me.
— — —
He finishes lacing my skates and suddenly I feel his lips on my forehead, warm and gentle. His strong hands move to my shoulders, long fingers probing me softly before easing me up with one hand. His eyes, the most striking aquamarine, piercing into my own as he held me at arm's length before leading me toward the ice with one hand on the small of my back.
As we reached the opening which led out onto the expanse of white ice, those fingers found my wrist and held me gently as I turned to face him.
"Remember," he uttered, leaning close to my ear, hot breath running down my neck, sending shivers down my spine. "Remember… I love you." I closed my eyes, nodded, and launched myself onto the ice, his words echoing through my mind for the whole routine. I've never performed as hard as I did that day, but my body and my score fell even harder. I was nearing the end of my routine when it happened. The whole arena stopped and stared with baited breath as my left foot slipped from underneath me. I watched the ice come closer and closer to my face and then I felt a large crack on my skull. My world went black.
— — —
I take off with a leap, making a half revolution and landing on my other foot. I stick the landing and smile. A small salchow jump, nothing outrageous. But still something to be proud of. I beam, knowing full well that I've just done something simple yet beautiful and elegant that many other people can't do.
That is what sets me apart from everyone else.
Clapping. Oh god, where is the clapping coming from? I hear someone clapping and I spin around. Too fast. Shit. My toe slips out from under me and I come to a screeching halt and fall to one knee.
"That jump was impressive, but the fall, not so much," Victor laughs. My heart stops. I brush the hair out of my eyes and stand up, taking him in. He's wearing long, thin blue jeans, a white sweater, and a brown leather jacket. But why is he here? How did he know I was coming here? My heart speeds up and my mouth falls open, my mind searching for the words to talk to him.
But then I blink, and Victor is gone.
— — —