Added: Marquez Meyers - Date: 23.09.2021 10:26 - Views: 25011 - Clicks: 4362
I started plotting this years ago, but the Olympics paired with the discovery of Hubbell and Donohue finally gave me the push to finish it. Emma had to catch her breath, not for the first time this week. She was here—really here!
All around her was the din of the crowd speaking countless languages, the chill air of the rink, and that iconic five-ringed logo. As she stared at it where it was painted at center ice, she pinched herself through her bejeweled costume. The dream had finally come true. She was competing in the Olympics. It was hard to believe that not even two years ago, there was a moment when this all seemed impossibly out of reach. A text. They were already a favorite to medal at the PyeongChang Olympics, even if that was a couple years away.
But just like that, he leaves her for another skater, Tamara something-or-other.
Unable to deal with the rage-fueled adrenaline coursing through her body, Emma stormed out of the locker room toward the ice. Of course she already had her skates on by the time he bothered to text. Be careful! You could hurt yourself! After a few warmup laps at breakneck speeds, she did a few spins before heading into jumps; that was usually how she worked off anger. First, a couple axels, then into toe loops; she nailed a few doubles before she realized she was being watched. Let him watch. She continued on through salchows and flips before working on her loops.
After landing a particularly nice one, the stranger began to applaud. She rolled her eyes and huffed. It was said that Faze swan face one could resist his combination of blue eyes, scruff, and skating skills. And honestly, she was fine with that. Not as much, not with his cocky demeanor and the way he flirted with anything in a skirt and skates. It was too much like someone she was trying not to think about. Apparently, the feeling was not mutual, and he continued to be a gentleman. You too. It was impressive. And she probably would have told him then, had she not been still avoiding him, while also spending every free moment either training or taking advantage of exploring her hometown of Boston with Neal.
He visibly deflated at that, and she felt kind of bad. But only a little. Maybe she could try her hand at singles, too—that was how she started way back when, right? As long as she was skating, what did it matter? Turned out, it mattered a lot. Her friend Elsa, who trained with her and Ingrid in Storybrooke but skated for Norwaywas right on board and giving her tips.
The ice just felt too empty with no one else there. It just felt…off. She would need that if she wanted even a hope of succeeding on her own. She tilted her head to assess him. Was he actually trying to help, even after the way she treated him last week? He glided over, stopping gracefully to stand alongside her. She rolled her eyes but did as asked, pushing off and away from him to go into her jump prep, and he watched her, critiquing, if the furrow of his brow told her anything.
Was he trying to make fun of her? See how low I get? It felt odd, but not unachievable. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye; just what was he trying to do? She took off again, skating in an arc around the rink, and began the prep for the jump, going just that bit lower before bringing her toepick down for liftoff…and there it was: a perfect triple.
She was so astonished that despite the flawless landing, she fell right over. You alright? She took it and let him help haul her to her feet, but she must have stood up too fast because suddenly, she was in his very firm, very nice arms. It felt good, but it sounded almost hollow, the slide of her lone blade on the ice. Maybe that was how it was supposed to be—or maybe it was just time to call it a night. She was a bit too caught up in her enthusiasm over getting it to think much about his offer, but she took him up on it without second thought. They broke apart, and then he counted them Faze swan face from three to start.
It felt even better than the last. She let herself slide backwards into the boards, almost overcome with how great that jump had been. It felt like when she had been back in her peak a few months ago, but somehow even better. Killian came to a rest next to her. She found him early the next day near the entrance to the locker room. While waiting for the okay to enter the ice and hearing the audience cheer for the pair, Emma felt a dark, warm presence at her side.
Killian wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her tight. How could she be anything but? She was about to compete for a medal with the man who had become her best friend over the last two years. Whatever nerves Emma had before her first day training with Killian, they quickly melted. Well—maybe not that quickly, in the grand scheme of things, but for Emma: pretty damn fast.
When they first started attempting lifts together, there was a learning curve on both ends. For Emma, Killian was just enough taller than Neal that she was freaked out by how high she was. Needless to say, the first lift—and the third, and the seventh, Faze swan face the tenth—ended with both of them on the mats of the training center. And the first time they executed a clean lift, it felt better than Emma could have even expected. Partnered jumps and throws had a similar learning curve, but Emma was trying—damn, was she trying. Overall, it was a better start than she expected.
He was gone, like so many other people in her life had been. So it was nothing against Killian, but she was very hesitant to let another person in who had the potential to do that, both from a skating and a personal level.
She could sense his growing frustration with her when they were practicing late into the evening, both determined to get their twist lift right. But Emma had a mental block on adjusting to Killian and kept bungling it, whether it was under rotated or lacking height, and forcing Killian to catch her in odd positions that sent them to the ice more than once.
From his seat on the ice, he grabbed her wrist to keep her in place. Hold up—we need to talk about this. And then I found a partner, a woman Faze swan face loved, and she died in my arms, too. Yet here we are. That was a lot to take in, and explained so much about him. And he was right—he was totally right. She knew she hid herself behind emotional walls; it was one of the first things she could remember learning how to do. Few people had broken through them, and they usually ended up just building them thicker, like Neal. Killian obviously had his own, but he was clearly willing to make a window in them for Emma; the least she could do was the same.
A clunking noise pulled her from her racing thoughts. Killian was back in the arena, on the other side of the wall, setting two beer bottles on top of it. Confused, she got to her feet and skated over. It was true; once again, they were the only people in the building.
So she took the other bottle and followed suit. And as they drank in companionable silence, something settled between them—an understanding of sorts, and for some reason, she felt more confident than she thought she had a right to feel. And for the first time in weeks, she was truly excited.Faze swan face
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