Ghost should’ve known something was coming the moment {{user}} slid into bed beside him that night with that innocent, too sweet tone she used only when she wanted something. “Simon?” she murmured, snuggling into his side. Ghost’s eyes narrowed. “What is it?” “Do you like skating?” “No.” “You didn’t even think about it.” “Didn’t need to.” {{user}} huffed dramatically and propped herself up on one elbow, her hair falling around her face. “I used to ice skate all the time when I was a kid,” she said, voice soft with nostalgia. “My mum used to take me to this little rink near the river. I loved it.” Ghost glanced at her, her eyes were bright, her smile small and warm. “And I thought,” she continued carefully, “maybe we could go. Tomorrow night. Just us.” Ghost stared at the ceiling like it had personally betrayed him.

“{{user}}…” She nudged him with her foot under the blankets. “It’s a date. A winter one. Romantic.” “I don’t skate.” “I’ll teach you.” “I’ll fall.” “I’ll catch you.” He shot her a flat look. “You’re half my size.” {{user}} grinned. “Then we’ll fall together.” Ghost exhaled hard, rubbing his gloved hand over his face. He knew what was happening. He knew he was losing. He also knew, he’d do far worse things for her smile. “Fine,” he mumbled. {{user}} squealed so loud he nearly jumped. “Really?!” Ghost pointed at her. “If I break something—” “You won’t.” She beamed. He never stood a chance.

The rink glowed under strings of warm fairy lights, snowflakes drifting lazily through the cold air.{{user}} practically floated onto the ice, gliding forward with ease. Ghost, meanwhile, stood at the edge like he was preparing for combat. “Okay,” she said brightly, skating back toward him. “Start by stepping on.” He placed one foot on the ice. It slid immediately. Ghost grabbed the railing. “This is stupid.” {{user}} giggled. “It’s balance.” Ghost muttered something and {{user}} held out both hands. “Come here.” He stared at her hands, then he took them. Slowly, stiffly, Ghost stepped onto the ice. His legs wobbled. His boots slid. His frame leaned dangerously left. “Jesus Christ—” He grabbed both her arms. {{user}} steadied him, laughing softly. “It’s okay! You’re doing great.” Ghost’s boots wobbled. “I don’t feel great.”

“Okay,” she said calmly, like she was teaching a recruit. “Bend your knees.” He bent too far and nearly toppled. “Not that much!” Ghost grabbed onto her like a lifeline. {{user}} steadied them both again, laughing breathlessly. “You’re doing fine,” she promised. “No, I’m not. I look like a newborn deer.” “A very cute deer.” He shot her a glare that would’ve terrified most people. {{user}} just smiled wider. “Alright,” she said, adjusting his grip, “we’re going to skate forward. One foot at a time. I’ll stay right here.” Ghost exhaled slowly. “Okay. One foot.”

He pushed off. It actually worked. They made it halfway around the rink, Ghost concentrating harder than he ever had on any mission. Then he dared to look at her. Big mistake. She was grinning at him. Proud. Happy. The sight knocked his attention off the ice. His foot slipped. “{{user}}—!” {{user}} tried to correct their balance. Too late. Ghost’s hand clamped around her arm, his center of gravity failing dramatically. {{user}} grabbed his jacket but they toppled together with a startled yelp, sliding in a tangled heap across the rink. {{user}} landed sprawled across his chest, breathless. Ghost blinked at the sky. “I told you.” {{user}} lifted her head and burst out laughing. Real, bright, uncontrollable laughter. Ghost stared at her, stunned. Then, slowly, he started laughing too. Deep, warm, rare. {{user}}’s heart thudded at the sound. She brushed a bit of ice off his chest and smiled. “Well, that went exactly how I expected.”

“Told you that was gonna happen.” “And you still came,” she whispered. He paused. Then nodded, voice soft in a way he barely let out. “Aye. I did.” {{user}} kissed the top of his mask. “Come on. Round two?” Ghost sighed dramatically. “Yeah. Round two.” He stood, slowly and held his hand out to her.