𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭

nine

Kaiden

I tightened the laces on my skates, the familiar tension of anticipation settling in my chest as I prepared for practice.

The rink was empty this early in the morning, save for the sound of my blades cutting through the ice. I had come to work on my drills, but as I began my warm-up laps, I couldn't help but notice Delphine at the far end of the rink.

She was already deep into her practice, her black leggings hugging her toned legs and a fitted tank top accentuating her athletic build.

Her pale skin was speckled with bruises from countless falls—each one a testament to her relentless pursuit of perfection. I watched her intently as she moved across the ice, every slice of her blades echoing her determination.

Delphine was a whirlwind of focus.

She had set up a series of cones, and it was evident she intended to push herself to the limit today.

As she navigated the course, her movements were sharp and calculated, showcasing both her skill and her fierce dedication. I could see the determination etched on her face, her brows furrowed in concentration as she weaved through the cones.

When she transitioned into jumps, I felt my breath catch in my throat. She soared through the air, her form flawless, only to land with a slight wobble. The frustration in her posture was palpable, and I could see her mentally chastising herself. She took a moment to catch her breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she reset for another attempt.

It was a dance of resilience, one that I found captivating. Each time she fell, she would rise with an intensity that spoke volumes about her character.

There was a fire in her spirit, an unyielding drive that drew me in. I found myself rooting for her with each attempt, silently urging her to succeed.

The rink was silent except for the sound of her blades gliding against the ice, and I felt like I was intruding on something personal—her struggle, her victories, and her setbacks. I skated a few laps, attempting to focus on my own practice, but my gaze kept drifting back to her.

Delphine was relentless, throwing herself into her routine again and again. I admired the way she pushed through the exhaustion, the way her body moved with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly. The sweat glistened on her forehead, and I could see the determination in her eyes as she prepared for her next jump.

But there was a fragility beneath her fierce exterior. I could see it in the way her shoulders tensed, the momentary flicker of doubt that crossed her features whenever she stumbled. Each bruise on her skin told a story of perseverance, but also of the pain she endured in the pursuit of her goals.

As she executed a series of spins, I couldn't help but be drawn in by the beauty of her movement. She looked so free, so alive, and yet there was an underlying tension that seemed to weigh her down. I wished she could see herself the way I did—strong, skilled, and capable of greatness, even on her toughest days.

After another round of jumps, she fell again. I felt a jolt of concern, but she quickly regained her composure, shaking off the momentary slip as if it were nothing. I could sense the stubbornness in her as she reset once more, the refusal to let the mistakes define her.

I continued to watch, captivated by her relentless spirit. Every attempt, every stumble, every small victory was a reminder of the passion that fueled her. I found myself lost in thought, wondering what it would take for her to embrace her imperfections, to give herself a break amidst the pressure she put on herself.

As the practice continued, I felt a connection forming, a thread that linked my own struggles with hers. I admired her determination and wished she could find the same grace in accepting her flaws. But for now, I would remain an observer, silently cheering her on from the sidelines as she battled against the odds, determined to conquer the ice.

In that quiet, empty rink, with the glow of the fluorescent lights casting shadows on the ice, Delphine became a beacon of strength. And I, lost in the rhythm of her practice, found myself both inspired and intrigued, wondering what stories lay beneath the surface of her unwavering determination.