comforting kisses pressed to tear-stained cheeks between whispered words of reassurance and concern.
Off Beat
They were off beat.
The Ice Dance series of galas were a big thing – not only because the paycheck was huge – and Effie had been talking his ear off about it for weeks.
Rehearsals were important. The show was a big machine, it allowed them to take their marks and at the same time, technicians could adjust spotlights and special effects. The other skaters were sitting around the rink, talking, laughing, or watching… It was different from competitions, more… friendly. Even Enobaria and Brutus weren't as unbearable as usual.
Rehearsals were important and he didn't need to glance at Mags who was hovering near the rink wall to know she wasn't happy with what they were doing.
Thing was, Effie wasn't completely into it and he tried to compensate but it was hard to meet her halfway when she wasn't even halfway. The piece was lyrical and it added to the level of difficulty. There was no being in character for him when he wasn't one hundred percent certain his partner was at the top of her game.
The first figure was impressive but not difficult. She locked her ankles behind his knee and he held her by the hand, making a large turn on the ice. They had done it a hundred times, they had that move. And yet he could feel the strain. Her whole body was tensed and there was a telling glint in her eyes.
He was careful after that, going through the motions but already apprehending the big toss and jump. When it came, when she glided in front of him, knees bent, ready to push, he didn't toss her high and he didn't toss her far. She spun in the air as planned and, for a second, he thought it would be okay. She landed on her leg, arms stretched like a graceful bird…
And then she collapsed.
She glided on her side on a feet or so. He went on with the routine, waiting for her to get up and join him once more, but when she pushed herself to her feet, he guessed the rehearsal was over with. He rushed to her but she was already limping toward the wall, using it as a clutch to reach the opening. He tried to help but she shrugged his hand off.
The music was abruptly cut off.
She disappeared in the locker room and he tried to follow but found his path blocked by a staff member ranting about schedules and money and what not. He was vaguely aware of Brutus suggesting they took their place so Effie could get a break and of Mags trying to play buffer. He pushed past the guy, snatching the blades protections from his trainer's hand as he went and hurried to the locker room.
He hoped she was alone in there because he didn't lose any time knocking. He barged right in, not really surprised to find her sitting on a bench, her bad leg stretched in front of her, her good one hugged close to her chest, jaw clenched and tears streaming down her face.
He closed the door and went straight for her bag, rummaging inside until he found the painkillers and a bottle of water. He knew it was bad when she swallowed two pills without trying to argue. He sat on the edge of the bench and cupped her cheek, drawing her to his chest. There was no point asking if she wanted a doctor and there was no point suggesting they called it a day. Once she would have calmed down and gotten a hold on the pain, she would insist they went back there.
He pressed slow kisses on her wet cheeks and on her forehead, holding her close until she stopped crying. Those pills made her drowsy, which was why she would rather take ibuprofen given the choice, so he didn't worry when she leaned her whole weight him.
He simply shifting so he could sit behind her and still hold her.
They had been there before.
They would work through it.