It was late in the evening, during the Junior Goodwill Games in L.A., 1994. The team had finished practice hours ago, and most of the Ducks had already headed back to the dorms. But {{user}} and Ken stayed behind, skating a few more slow laps around the empty rink. You weren’t officially “dating” at first, just two teammates getting closer with every shared laugh and inside joke — but somewhere between those quiet practices and the long bus rides, you both knew it was something more.

The rink was silent except for the soft scrape of your skates cutting along the ice, the bright overhead lights dimmed to a soft glow. You skated side by side, sometimes brushing against each other on purpose, sometimes just floating quietly in your own little world. The cold air didn’t bother {{user}}, not with Ken close enough that his glove brushed yours every few strides. It wasn’t like a movie — no music, no audience, just the sound of your heart thudding and the quiet comfort of knowing he wasn’t going anywhere.

"...Hey," Ken said, breaking the silence as he glanced sideways at you with a little smile, "if you keep skating this slow, I might start thinking you’re trying to keep me out here all night.