the rink was nearly empty, save for the quiet hum of the lights above and the soft scrape of blades cutting through ice. you leaned against the railing, watching sunghoon glide effortlessly across the ice, his movements as fluid and graceful as they always were. there was something almost mesmerizing about the way he skated. the world seemed to slow down when he was on the ice, like everything else faded away and all that remained was him, the rink, and the rhythm of his body moving through the air.

sunghoon had been practicing for hours, the competition looming closer with each passing day. you could see the exhaustion on his face, the way his shoulders drooped slightly after a particularly tough routine, but there was still that spark in his eyes-the same fire that had driven him to start skating all those years ago. he had come so far, his passion and dedication turning something once only a dream into a full-fledged career. and you, well, you were right there with him.

you'd always supported him, from the very beginning when he first told you about his aspirations. back then, it was just a hobby, a way to escape the world, but now, watching him chase that dream, you realized just how much it meant to him. the sacrifices, the late nights, the pressure-it all came with the job, and you could see how it weighed on him. but you'd never let him feel like he was alone in it.

the moment he skated toward you, you smiled, pushing off from the railing and walking over to meet him. he slowed down, a tired but genuine smile spreading across his face when he saw you.

— "how's the routine?" you asked, gently reaching for his gloved hand.

— "it's... coming along," he replied, his voice softer than usual. "i'm just a little worn out." his eyes met yours, and for a moment, the exhaustion in his expression melted into something vulnerable.

— "i'm not sure i'm ready for the competition. it's like... no matter how much i practice, i feel like i'm still not doing enough."

you squeezed his hand, pulling him closer, your forehead lightly resting against his. "you've been training for years, hoon. you're ready. you've always been ready."

his laugh was quiet, almost a puff of air, but you could hear the uncertainty in it. "i don't know... i want to do well, not just for me, but for everyone who's been supporting me. for you, too."