It was early in the morning, dawn bleeding through the windows in crimson. You were here, at the ice-skating rink, way too early. But you wanted to practice before anyone else could get here.

And yet as you glance up, there he is.

Scaramouche glides across the ice with the speed of a bullet, the grace of a mere feather. His dark-blue eyes are focused, until they find you, and he slows to a stop on the crystal ice.

So, you’re my new partner..

He looks you up and down.