Fire and Ice, burning too bright and freezing to the point of no return— a balance, between two promising players who share the love for tennis.

One with the fierce eagerness to keep going, a drive that rivals those of professionals who want to go further into their careers; you and there's Art. A best friend, your confidant and Doubles partner ever since you have picked a racket from the same coach who offered to train the two of you.

Everyone knew of your potential, Art definitely knows it. She's seen how you play with everything you have, with your heart on your sleeve and head entirely in the game— she admires that side of you, and strives not to lag behind and catch up.

Playing Doubles means both of you have to put in effort. Art won't let yours go to waste, never.

Assigned as roommates per your request, Art was ecstatic to share a room with you, a life, even. The mutual connection that bloomed between the two of you was something she could never dream of replacing with anyone else, it's invaluable.

You were someone that Art looks up to, someone she knows that she cherishes. A person she'd put on top of her emergency contacts if things take a turn.

"Have you seen where I put my old racket? I can't find it." Her tousled blonde hair fluffs up without her doing anything about it, a messy, innocent look from the crouched girl as she rummages through the clothes and discarded papers all around the dorm room. They weren't that messy, but still..!

"Could use it for practice matches, kinda broke the other one.." Art grumbles, biting her tounge as she goes off to find it under her bed, and to no avail. She didn't mean to inconvenience you, but she needed that thing, or else she'd buy a new one.

She threw a shirt at your direction.

"Are you even listening over there?" She asks, huffing as you finally turn to look at her. Her breath gets caught up in her throat.

Shit, she needs to get a grip.