may shatter on impact (tronnor)

55. Drunk On the Galaxies & Holding Hands to Keep Warm

After ending a slightly terrifying car ride with Connor and his thousand year old car, I find myself shivering by the side of an ice skating rink, my toes squished inside of white skates that must be two sizes too small, even though Connor tells me that it's just the style of the shoes on metal rods.

"Connor, why are we - "

"It's fun, he says, laughing. He grabs my hand again, the cold biting between our fingers but holding on as if the sun had disappeared and I was all the light in the world. He steps onto the ice gingerly, holding onto the wall until he was balanced. "Come on, Troye!"

I follow him, stepping onto the ice. The metal slips and slide across the cold ice, and I can barely stand. I don't let go of Connor's hand, using my other to grab the wall and use it as a crutch. A woman in red speeds by me, her skates biting into the ice and leaving chips and tracks as little bits of ice are sprayed up behind her.

"She's good," I say, almost in awe.

"It's not hard, Tro. Come on!" Connor holds my hand, one foot in front of the other as he skates along the wall, dragging me behind him. A toddler holds onto his mother's hand as she brings the two of them around. A ten year old girl follows her, speeding alongside them, going faster, skating in circles around her brother.

"Show off," I mutter. Jealous of a ten year old. What have I come to?

I laugh, gripping the wall tightly as the woman in red speeds by once again. My hat is slipping off of my head, and I reach up to fix it, letting go of the wall. I shake on my feet, slipping a bit, heart stopping -

Connor has his hands around my waist, laughing at me, his face flushed and our breath fogging up the air between us. His scarf tickles my neck, and we both are laughing as he rights me and I grab onto the wall once again.

"Okay, you suck at this," he says when we're both balanced.

"Hey! It's not 'common knowledge'," I say, doing my best impression of his voice.

"I do not sound like that!"

"Yes you do, Con. Okay, now teach me how not to fall on my face."

He smiles. "Okay, start with just walking." I try and step forward, landing tentatively on each foot, slowly inching forward, and between Connor's steady hands and the wall, I manage not to fall. "Good, now just sort of...glide."

"Oh that's real helpful, thank you," I say sarcastically.

He laughs, eyes bright and glittering with the sound. The cool air has turned our faces slightly red, our teeth chattering but I can't feel it; I can barely recognize the slight pain of having my feet squished into the skates. "Just...slide forward," he says, struggling to describe the way he manages to move his feet, letting go of my hands and spiraling along the wall.

My hands are spread out like wings, balancing me keeping the wind from tossing me around the ice. "Connor - " I begin to say, not really knowing I was going to end the sentence.

He turns, taking hold of my hands, grasping my fingers, the warmth of his touch passing through layers of gloves to meet my ice cold skin. "Troye - " he begins to say, but doesn't finish his sentence either. Just like a simple reminder that he doesn't really know what he's doing either. So instead of speaking, he keeps my hands wrapped in his as he skates backwards, bringing me with him. His smile lights up the quickly fading light, his touch turning the frozen air into warmth I didn't know I could feel. His eyes almost glitter with sunsets and artificial aquarium lighting, sparkling with happiness. The blue and the gray in his eyes shine as if he's the sky and I'm the ocean, the blues and greens and sunrises and little bits that no one thinks about meeting. The green in his eyes glitters like he's drinking the galaxies and drunk on the stars. And when he laughs, I do too.