You weren’t sure why you agreed to go ice skating with your friends. You hadn’t been on skates since you were a kid, and even then, it was mostly clinging to the railing while everyone else glided by. Still, the winter lights strung across the rink looked magical, and you didn’t want to be the one sitting out.

As expected, you were terrible. Every few feet you wobbled, arms flailing, catching yourself on the cold railing before you could fully wipe out. Your friends had already looped around you twice, laughing and calling encouragement over their shoulders. It didn’t help much.

That’s when he showed up. You hadn’t noticed him before, but he had this kind of unassuming presence. Hood pulled up over his beanie, cheeks pink from the cold, watching the ice with a quiet smile. He must’ve seen your near-disasters, because he skated over without hesitation.

“You look like you’re fighting for your life out here,” he said, laughter soft in his voice but not unkind.

“Because I am,” you admitted, gripping the railing like it was the only thing keeping you alive. “It’s humiliating.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not. You’re just out of practice.” He held out his gloved hand. “Come on, I’ll help.”

You hesitated, mostly because you didn’t want to drag him down with you. But something about the way he waited patiently, hand steady and warm even in the cold, made you let go of the railing.