𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭

eight

3rd person

Delphine took a deep breath, centering herself in the middle of the rink. The cold air felt sharp against her cheeks, refreshing as it bit through the early morning chill. She'd been here since dawn, stretching, warming up, slipping into her familiar routine, trying to perfect a spin sequence she'd been struggling with for days. This was her time. Her world was usually uninterrupted—no one else came this early, and she liked it that way.

Skating alone in the morning was a ritual. The empty rink, the silent hum of the lights above, the sheer vastness of the space that belonged solely to her—it all grounded her. Out here, it didn't matter who she was to everyone else. She wasn't Delphine the ice queen or the girl everyone expected to glide perfectly every time. She was just Dels, working her edges over and over, pushing herself because she knew she could be better.

She skated to the far end of the rink, her gloved hands on her knees as she caught her breath. Her playlist was blasting through her headphones, a beat that synchronized perfectly with her sharp turns and rapid spins.

And then, something broke her focus. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shadowy figure moving along the boards. She slid to a halt, her brows furrowing as she pulled her headphones down around her neck.

The figure approached, and she recognized him immediately.

Kaiden McAllister, of all people. Hockey player, self-assured swagger, and that infuriating half-smirk that said he always knew what he was doing. She felt her jaw clench, her grip tightening around the strap of her gloves.

"Hey," he called out, his voice echoing in the empty rink as he walked onto the ice with the confidence of someone who'd spent his whole life there.

"What are you doing here?" Delphine asked, her voice clipped. She glanced toward the door, wondering if he'd gotten lost or something.

He raised an eyebrow, looking unfazed. "I could ask you the same thing. But actually, I was told this rink's open for hockey practice in the mornings now."

She felt her frustration bubbling up, a spark of irritation igniting. "I've been here every morning this semester," she said, her tone flat. "No one ever mentioned anything about hockey practice."

Kaiden shrugged, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Guess they didn't think you'd mind sharing."

"Sharing?" She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I need the rink to myself to train. You think I want pucks flying around while I'm practicing jumps?"

His smirk grew as he stepped further onto the ice, shrugging his bag over his shoulder. "We're both here, aren't we? Looks like we'll just have to make do."

Delphine resisted the urge to roll her eyes, instead focusing on a spot behind him, trying to hold onto her composure. "Fine. But stay on your side."

She skated to the center, setting her bag down and pulling out a line of small orange cones. One by one, she spaced them down the middle of the rink, marking a clear, unapologetic barrier between her side and his.

When she finished, she glanced over at him, a hint of defiance in her eyes. "There. Stay on that side. I won't get in your way, and you won't get in mine."

Kaiden just watched her, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Cones? Seriously?"

She lifted her chin. "Unless you've got a better suggestion."

He chuckled, skating backward toward his side of the rink, still facing her as he moved. "Suit yourself, princess."

The nickname grated on her nerves. She'd heard it enough in passing—a little whisper behind her back, an assumption that just because she was a figure skater, she had to be some kind of princess. But hearing it from Kaiden, with that cocky smile on his face, only made her resolve to ignore him even stronger.

With a deep breath, she turned back to her routine, refusing to let his presence throw her off. She'd worked too hard to be distracted now. She took her stance, lined herself up, and pushed off, gliding into a quick series of spins, her arms tight, her core engaged. She knew he was watching her; she could feel his gaze, the weight of it lingering even as she moved across the ice.

But she ignored him, or at least tried to. He wasn't going to ruin her focus.