Crush/Boyfriend Imagines

Loving On Thin Ice

hey guyssss!!
I've prepared a little longer imagine for you... (sorry if something's not accurate i dont really know how figure skating or any of that works irl but just go with this for the sake of the story ✋😭)
A question: do you like it being this long (5k words) or do you prefer the short ones?
Anywho...thanks to all the reads and the votes and comments!!

*

The ice was stinging cold underneath your fingertips.

The breath was burning in your lungs and throat.

And yet - yet it was not enough.

Hastily, you got back up onto your skates, legs still a little shaken from the drastic fall. The coldness of the ice  was still seeping on your cheek from where it touched skin.

You're probably going to have a bruise tomorrow.

But this won't stop you, no. You need to work harder. Train harder. Jump harder.

With a deep breath, your legs began moving again, began to pick up speed as the skates glided smoothly across the ice. Your hair was waving behind your back from the rush of air, skirt flaring, exposing the shorts you wore underneath.

Jumping up, your body carried itself into the air, spinning around without a steady ground. Then, your feet connected with the ice again. Then, your body collided with the ice again.

Groaning, you frustratedly smashed your fist against the ice. No matter how much you tried, you just couldn't get the jump right - you'd always not spin enough, land in a bad way, always fall down, unable to hold your balance.

All of a sudden, you heard a clapping sound. Your head shot up, only to be met with a tall figure of a boy you did not recognize. His hands were raised in the air, the producers of the sound, and a smile that appeared to mock you on his lips. "I thought a figure skater knows how to jump," he called out to you from the entrance to the ice rink.

His h/c hair was partly hidden beneath a beanie and he was clad in a hoodie and trousers, with a hockey stick next to him. Only then did your eyes travel lower, to spot his very own skates on his feet.

Unlike yours, though, his were hockey skates, without any spikes, bigger and bulkier.

"I know how to jump," you retorted under your breath. Your mood was already below the content level, having a bad day, your practice just didn't go the way you wanted, and now this boy dared to disvalue all your hard work?

He was already stepping on the ice. You were not sure whether he had heard you, but as you skated towards the exit, he shot another smile at you, full of confidence. As if he thought he was the reason you decided to leave.

No, you had meant to leave after this jump, anyway. You'd surely not let some boy you had just seen for the first time dictate what you were going to do or not do.

Because as much as you wanted to jump just a few more times, you knew your body deserved to rest. It was no use practicing while being frustrated when instead of the pent up frustration fading away with the familiar movements, spirals, spins and jumps, it was only adding up into the already too big of a pile inside your chest.

You stepped out, changing into your sneakers, and headed towards the lockers in the back to change out of your sweaty practice attire into your normal clothes.

You went home and slept. Sleep finally managed to ease your mind.

*

The next day, your body felt a little sore from how many times you had fallen the day before - instead of practicing on ice that day, you opted to build up your strength and stamina, running more than a few laps until you were gasping for breath.