Connor

Clumsily lacing your skates and tightening the laces tightly, you glanced at the ice-covered rink. You don't remember the last time you were at the rink... when you were five, six years old? Anyway, that skating trip ended in tears and a broken bone, so you haven't stepped on the ice since. But today you decided to go.

The blade touched the crystalline, icy surface. You immediately grabbed the edge. Clumsily moving forward, you tried to let go, but failed miserably, falling to your knees.

It took you about half an hour and a thousand falls to even move a single meter without assistance. Your knees will definitely be bruised.

Taking a break from your captivating routine, you caught a glimpse of a guy standing out from the crowd. He was cutting through the ice, racing past you with such speed that it was practically impossible to see him. He was skating backwards, or on one skate, spinning and jumping. You didn't notice how your mouth dropped open slightly in amazement. And it seemed the object of your admiration noticed you. He caught your eye, slowed down, just as gracefully and abruptly, and then... what you didn't expect: he raced toward you.

Before you could react, the guy was right next to you and braked sharply, startling you. You screamed, backing away, and, naturally, starting to fall.
You closed your eyes, waiting for the ice to touch your skin, and felt someone's arms wrap around your waist, holding you up. Opening your eyes, you saw the same reckless driver who had nearly caused your fall.

• I'm catching, I'm catching. - He laughs. - Well, you look ridiculous... cute.