Crossing the line

This is it !

"And now my lovely skaters, please make way for a little event organised by the skating club. My favourite couple will need a little space, please kindly move aside as much as you can"

Frances craned her neck, pushing myself to the railing with the rest of the crowd. Where was Tristan? What event? Damn, he was going to miss it! She was so grateful he had offered to take her skating, and looked for him everywhere. The rink was near empty now. A man appeared on the ice, striding confidently to the centre. Tall, lean, beautiful ... red shirt and black jeans. Frances' breath caught as she recognised him. Tristan! What the hell was he doing?

He stopped abruptly, and she could only marvel at his skill as his eyes roamed the assistance ... to find her? Frances had remarked, for sure, that he seemed more confident with his steps on the ice. But this. This was something else. Her eyebrows rose, and his eyes found hers when a few music notes flew into the hall... A violin.

"Dragons". Romantic flight.

Oh! This was a homage to her first Gala. Frances' heart leapt, and Tristan extended his hand. The event ... the even was them?

Frances didn't hesitate, striding to him with an incredulous look. Tristan welcomed her with a grin; he was so beautiful, right now. Then his hand enclosed hers and he led them across the rink. Slowly, at first, so that they fell in step easily. His movements were fluid, his equilibrium perfect. Moves of a dancer upon the ice. When had this happened? When had Tristan become a proficient figure skater ?

The tall man twisted around in a balanced inside turn, skating backwards, his croisés powerful. Damn, his long legs gave him much speed ! Incredulous, Frances followed the example. His hand held hers, so close, and yet their steps harmonised easily. The couple sped up, following the flow around the ice rink until Frances decided to get past him in a twirl and settled on his other side.

Tristan's lips barely quirked as he adapted. Just like that the school ball – and the fated Espresso Love song - his other hand retrieved hers easily. It was easier, even, than when dancing Rock'n'roll because she knew a plethora of steps on the ice that gave her confidence and flexibility. Tristan slowed down then, and twisted around to face her.

— "Arabesque, my beauty?"

Frances nodded, diving down as he held her hand, lifting his own leg backwards until they were both gliding across the rink, flying together in the wind. The young woman smiled; she felt so free... Free, with this incredible man by her side. To share this passionate moment with strength and skill. A few claps echoed in the background, but the only thing she could see were his eyes, smiling, and the beauty of the violins. Tristan suddenly spun, finding himself by her side once more, his hand snaking around her waist to guide her around the edge. His grip was firm, his steps assured, his hand as demanding as ever.

Frances' heart was bursting with love for that man as she realised he must have taken classes. And organised it all. The same man who now reached for her leg to sent them in a double spin, one of which she had never experienced. The balance was different in those, and Frances wondered, for a split of a second, whether they were going to crash down in front of so many spectators. But Tristan seemed to master it; he placed her in the right spot. All that was left was to gravitate around him, as if she was planet earth and he, the sun. It felt a little weird not to keep diving the ice on the same spot, but the momentum took them round and round together beautifully.

The music was coming to a close, the bass echoing in the skating rink and still she danced, bending to her man's will, eager to follow his whims. Frances wondered what he had in mind for the final, and wasn't surprised when he gathered her in his arms and lifted her up along a diagonal. Hoots and claps reached her ears, but she was too tightly woven around Tristan to pay them much heed. Frances' skirts flew around them as she lifted her arms. And when he gently set her on the ice, kissing her soundly, Frances grinned so widely that she could feel the stretch of her lips.