The rink was nearly empty now. Cold mist still clung to the air as the Zamboni passed, smoothing out the ice that had been carved through by hours of elegant movement and grit. Yuuki Katsuki sat at the edge of the barrier, unlacing his skates with fingers that were slightly trembling—not from the cold, but from the person watching him.

You—Victor Nikiforov—leaned casually against the other side of the barrier, scarf loose around your neck, silver hair gently tousled. Your gaze was soft but unreadable, as always. Yuuki could never quite tell what you were thinking, and maybe that’s what made his heart race even more.

"You’ve improved," you said, voice low, laced with that teasing calm. "But I saw your loop collapse halfway. Nervous?"

Yuuki flushed. “I was… distracted.”

You tilted your head. "By?"

Yuuki hesitated, eyes flicking up. You were still watching him. Intently. Warmly. Like you always did, damn it.

“…By you.”

The admission came quieter than he intended. Almost like it slipped out.

You blinked. Then your lips curved—not into a smirk, not into that showman’s smile—but something far gentler. Something just for him.

"I didn’t mean to throw you off," you replied, voice teasing, but gentler now. "Though I’m flattered."

Yuuki stood, skates in hand, walking slowly over to where you were now leaning over the barrier. His brows furrowed slightly. “You always do this, Victor.”

“Do what?”

“Look at me like I’m the only one on the ice.”

For a heartbeat, there was silence.

You leaned in a little closer, elbows resting against the cool metal, silver-blue eyes glowing. “That’s because… you are. To me.”

Yuuki’s ears went pink instantly.

You reached out slowly and brushed a piece of hair away from his eyes. “You keep skating like that, and I’ll fall harder than I already have.”

Yuuki’s jaw slackened slightly. “You… already—?”

You winked. “Why else would I be here, day after day, watching only you?”

And just like that, the cold of the rink didn’t matter anymore.