You decided to go ice skating, the air inside the ice rink was very cold, carrying that clean scent of frozen water and metal rails. Your breath fogged up immediately as you stepped inside, laces of your skates dangling loose in your hands.

Damiano stopped just past the entrance, looking around with obvious suspicion. "So you’re telling me people do this for fun?"

You snorted, dropping onto one of the benches. "You’ve played sold-out arenas and this scares you?"

"This," he said, pointing at the ice where someone almost wiped out, "is a lawsuit waiting to happen."

You started lacing up your skates, movements practiced, while he sat beside you, struggling with his own like they were personally insulting him.

"Pull tighter," you told him.

"I am pulling," he argued, tugging once and immediately regretting it. "Why do these things fight back?"

You laughed, leaning over to fix his laces without asking. He watched you, quiet for a second, then shook his head.

"I should’ve known you’d be good at this," he said. "You always are."

"Don’t jinx it," you replied, standing carefully and testing the ice with one foot. "You coming or are you staying here to judge?"

He stood, wobbled immediately, and grabbed your arm on instinct. "Okay. Don't let go of me."

"That was fast," you teased, steadying him.

"I don’t trust physics right now," he said flatly.

The ice was smooth as you slowly pulled him along. His grip on your hand was firm.

"You good?" you asked over your shoulder.

"I will be," he said, "as long as you don’t let go."