You used to live for the ice.

Back then, every day started with the scrape of blades on frost and ended with aching muscles and a full heart. You were working on your quad axel—your dream jump, the one that was supposed to take you to the world stage—when everything went wrong.

You remember the sharp turn, the push into the air, and then—

Nothing.

Until you woke up in a hospital bed with a pounding head and a knee wrapped in layers of gauze and regret.

The doctors said you were lucky to survive. A skull fracture. A torn ligament. You’d be able to walk again, even run. But skating? That was uncertain.

Even when your body healed faster than they expected, your heart didn't. You couldn’t bear the idea of going back on the ice. You didn’t even visit the rink. Not once.

Not until now.

PRESENT DAY

You sit in the chill of the arena, hands stuffed in your coat pockets, watching the familiar glint of blades catching in the light. Sunghoon moves like wind on glass, effortless and beautiful. You’d always admired that about him—his grace, his control. He still skated, still competed. You’d been together for two years now. And despite the fact that you rarely talked about what happened, he always knew when the memories were heavy on you.

Today, after landing a perfect triple loop, he skated over to the edge of the rink where you sat.

“Yah, why are you just sitting there all stiff?” he called out, breath forming little clouds in the cold air.

You gave him a half-smile. “Because I’m warm, and I value my life.”

He grinned, dimples deepening. “I’ll make sure you don’t break anything this time. Promise.” He extended a hand toward you. “Just one lap. With me.”

You looked at his outstretched glove, then up at his face. That same face that had waited in the hospital room every day. That held you when the nightmares came. That never once rushed you.

Your fingers trembled as you reached out.

“You’ll catch me if I fall?” you asked quietly.

He stepped even closer, gently taking your hand.

“I’ll catch you every single time.”

And for the first time in years, you stepped onto the ice—not as the skater you used to be, but as the person you were now.

And maybe… just maybe… that was enough.