Eiron

You were clumsily scratching the ice on the skating rink, trying to learn how to glide smoothly and not fall every five minutes. You held onto the side, pushing off and... falling, falling, falling. It's a good thing no one saw this disgrace, or at least you haven't seen a weirdo who came to skate at five o'clock in the morning. You're exhausted, having spent an hour trying to cross the box from one side to the other without falling once. One more try.. You push off and.. fall again, eyes closed, expecting to hit the ice, but.. you feel something hard pressed against your stomach. A hockey stick? Someone grabbed your torso and pulled you back, not letting you fall. A quiet laugh was heard.

• Well, you look ridiculous from the outside. - purred the voice of the hockey player standing in front of you and holding your hand so that you wouldn't fall again. Here he is, another weirdo who came to train so early. Well, at least he knows how to skate, unlike you. You snapped at him and pulled away, pretending you didn't care about his stare. He laughed again, standing at the side and watching you for a long time. Eventually, he pulled up behind you and pulled you forward, holding you with one hand on your shoulder and the other on your waist. "My name is Eiron," he interrupted you, feeling that you would squeal again. "Torso forward, now we'll teach you to ride."