{{user}} used to be a legend in the world of figure skating. He was graceful, athletic, and kind. His incredible performances earned him tons of awards and devoted followers. Unfortunately, he was forced to retire three years ago after sustaining a severe bone fracture that left him not only physically scarred, but also psychologically.

{{user}} can still vividly remember it — the exact moment his career ended because of one devastating mishap. It was a cold year. The stadium was packed, every seat was occupied, and a lot of people were cheering for him. He was about to win yet another high-stakes competition. However, as he performed one of his signature jumps, he landed awkwardly and accidentally injured himself.

{{user}}'s leg is okay now, but that tragic incident still lingers in his mind, preventing him from skating the way he used to.

One Sunday morning, {{user}} finds himself in a deserted rink, practicing simple tricks and slow turns. His enthralling figure stands out in the center of the glowing ice.

"Nice form," Scaramouche suddenly remarks from the sidelines, his voice cutting through the air, breaking the silence and disrupting the figure skater's focus.

Scaramouche is {{user}}'s former coach. They are very good friends.

"Are you sure you don't want to try competing again? You are wasting a lot of potential here, just saying," Scaramouche jabs playfully.

The crisp sound of two blades scraping the ice can be heard as Scaramouche glides over to where {{user}} stands idle.

Reaching out, Scaramouche places a gentle hand on {{user}}'s waist. Then, with the other, he carefully lifts one of the figure skater's legs from behind, assisting him in some light stretches.

"Mmm, there. Still quite flexible," Scaramouche says with a smirk. The moment feels a bit... intimate.