{Edited}

When Allen awoke the next morning; Cross was gone.

He shouldn't have been surprised, not really. He'd learned a long time ago to never expect a goodbye or a measly note.

When Cross wanted to leave; he was gone.

When Cross wanted to come back; he was there.

He would never tell Allen or anybody else when or why. That man ran on his own schedule completely inconsiderate of others.

Allen stood, stretching before walking into the pristine bathroom attached to his room.

He always looked like a mess in the mornings, blackened circles under his tired eyes, irritation around his blindingly red scar, and shaggy white hair sticking up in random places.

Basically, a train wreck.

He'd always been rather fond of mornings ever since he'd started skating. He'd loved thatit was when he got to start all of the things he loved to do. And there were a lot of them.

When he was 6, he'd started playing the piano, and he'd loved it. from that time until he was 10 he'd tried any instrument he could get his hands on, and he excelled. By then he'd been dubbed 'prodigy'.

But it was after 10 that the real fun started. When he started dancing, he thought that that would be his life from then on. And it was...sort of. About two years into dancing, Anita recommended he try his hand at figure skating.

Now that, was what he wanted to spend his life doing.

Since the day he'd first stepped foot on the slick ice, he'd been obsessed. Not a day did go by that he didn't want to go to the nearest ice rink and forget his troubles.

Which vaguely reminded Allen that he hadn't yet searched for an ice rink in this new town yet.

He'd gone a whole day without skating and he had to admit that that was a record.

He quickly applied cover-up to the scar sticking out on his forehead before practically sprinting out of the bathroom to get dressed and ready to go.

The second get got out of the door, he pulled out his phone, asking Siri where the nearest skating rink was. He didn't care if it was 2 miles away; he would crawl there if he had to.

Luckily he wouldn't have to.

The nearest ice rink happened to be reserved for Black Order students-Thank God-and sat right by the Academy itself.

Allen had been careful in choosing a house close to the academy so he wouldn't have too far to walk every morning, but he hadn't realized he'd also been choosing the closest house to the rink he would probably live in. Fate.

When he arrived at the rink, he had to swipe his new student ID to get in.

By the time he got through the doors, his body was practically vibrating with excitement.

He breathed in deeply, a happy little smile spreading across his lips. How he so loved the smell of an empty ice rink.

He quickly tied on his pristine white skates, slipping on thing gloves and a light scarf before stepping foot on the ice and momentarily relishing in the feeling of gliding that walking could never give him.

It was heaven. The only heaven Allen ever cared to believe in, honestly.

To warm up, he went around the rink a few times, an exercise called Power.

An exhilarated grin crept up onto his face as the cool air through his hair back with more and more force as he went faster and faster around the oval-shaped rink.

Nothing felt better than being the first to glide on a fresh rink in the morning.

He came slowly to a stop, moving to the center of the rink.

He moved to his right, moving into a ready motion before carrying through with a perfect Salchow.

The ice came up in a mist as he spun on his heel, picking up speed for the next move. One of his favorites actually, Shooting The Duck.

It was a trick he used to mess up often. He has to sit back on his right heel while his left foot extends outward while spinning quickly. He always followed it up with a Sit Spin.

He remembered working for hours upon hours to perfect it. It was near madness. But it was definitely all worth it when he won with it in a competition afterward.

Suddenly, clapping resounded through the rink and his foot slipped, sending his playing out over the ice.

He hadn't even heard anyone come in.

"Ah, crap! Brit, you okay?" It was Lavi. Of course.

Allen heard skates hitting the rink and sliding over to him as he lifted up himself into a sitting position, rubbing the back of his head.

Lavi crouched near him, an apologetic look on his face.

"Normal people start with a 'hello'," Allen muttered, glancing at the redhead with irritation.

Lavi smiled sheepishly, running his hand through his fiery hair, "Sorry 'bout that, brit."

Lavi grabbed Allen's hand, heaving him up and helping him wipe the shaved ice off of his coat.

"It's fine," It was then Allen looked the redhead from head to toe, noticing what kind of gear he was wearing, "You play hockey?"

Lavi nodded proudly, grinning, "Yup!"

Allen nodded humming, "That's cool. I expected football or something."

Lavi waved the notion away like it was ridiculous, "Nah, my life's on the ice."

Allen nodded in agreement, joy lighting up his face, "Same!"

Lavi stopped for a moment, noticing Allen's lack of protection, "You don't play hockey, do you?"

Allen shook his head, "No, I'm a figure skater."

Understanding washed over Lavi's face, "Oh yeah, I have a friend that does that! It's like ice dancing, right?"

Allen nodded thoughtfully, "Sort of, just a bit more difficult."

"Ah, that's what Lena always says. You should meet her, you guys would probably get along." Lavi told him, his hand on his hip.

"I wouldn't mind meeting someone else who likes figure skating." Allen agreed.

"Good," Lavi said clapping his hands, "Then you can sit with us on Monday." he stopped, "Ah, there's one other person, but he's a grump so don't mind him too much. His brother should keep him occupied and somewhat friendly."

Allen quirked a brow, "He sounds delightful."

Lavi nodded, chuckling, "You get used to 'em."

"Anyway," he continued, "I need to practice, so you can do your thing, I won't bother you."

"Okay, thanks." Allen agreed.

And so they separated and spent the rest of the day practicing in compatible silence.

Anyone else seen Yuri! On Ice?