It's Time to Go, Chop Chop! (Viktor x OC)

Chapter 4

Viktor took my hands and pulled me to the centre of the ice, the rink now our playground. Whenever Yakov left, we would always practice for an hour or so afterwards by ourselves. It was a chance to experiment, and of course, just fool around without such a harsh regimen. Despite his occasional soft side, Yakov was short-tempered, and could invoke fear with only a glance.

"You seem distracted today," Viktor gave me a sideways glance as he skated circles around where I stood, my hands behind my back. I tugged on my braid, pursing my lips.

"I'm just not feeling it today, I guess," I shrugged. Viktor gave me a look, obviously not believing that reasoning, but returned it with a shrug of his own. He tilted his head to the side. No matter how many times he did that, it never got any less adorable, especially with those blue eyes. As he had aged, their colour had remained the same, but had developed small flecks of sea-green.

"Perhaps," he stopped to look me up and down with crossed arms, "you're lacking...inspiration?"

"Yeah, that's it!" I had to cover it up. I'd looked into so many possible professions, but none of them caught my interest. I thought of telling Viktor, of telling Yakov. Yakov could be quite frightening when he wanted to. But...I couldn't think of a way to do it. Whenever I tried, my voice would catch in my throat and I would feel like I was going to throw up.

"Then, let's try something different shall we?" he reached for my hand, but I held up a finger.

"One second," and I skated away, grabbing my hair brush off of the bench and turning to face him.

"Your hair is driving me crazy. Get over here!"

"What? No! Get away," he said, sliding away from my outstretched hands, and ducking when I lunged at him. "I like it how it is!"

"At least let me tie it up!" I reasoned. "We'll call it your new style. How about that? I'm not cutting it or anything! Geez!"

Like a suspicious cat, the boy slunk over to me with a loud sigh and swiveled around so his back was to me. Abandoning the brush as per his wishes, I ran my hands through his silver locks. Gathered the strands. Pulled the bouquet through the elastic. Twisted the loop. Pulled it through again. Attempted a third loop but stopped when the subject squealed in protest.

"Okay, you're done. See? Won't that be easier? Now it won't go all over your face." I smirked. "Maybe you won't get so many hairballs."

Viktor ran his hand over the ponytail, testing it out. He swayed his head back and forth, causing it to swing in time with his body. He grinned and shook his head rapidly, but it whipped around and smacked him in the face, and the smile vanished. I laughed at his antics.

"Okay, now come here you!" I grabbed his hands and we began to circle the rink. Spread eagle, leg lift. Then, without warning, I felt his hands on my hips and I gasped as I was hoisted into the air. I managed to keep my balance, and a moment later, I was lowered back down without a trip or a stumble. He was much closer than usual I realized, and his hot breath could be felt on my neck. And when I glanced at him, his eyes sparkled at me excitedly, yet with a calm serenity. He twirled me, not in a way that ice skaters would, but as ballroom dancers would. Like a prince and princess would at a ball in a fairy tale. I was dipped until my head almost touched the ice. It was just us in our own little world, no music required. So when he placed his hands on my hips for a second time, I let myself be carried through the hair, arms outstretched, head tilted upward without a care in the world. My laughter was loud and filled with exhilaration. I wanted this to go on forever. The movements were simple. No jumps, nothing. Just gliding and twirling, keeping close to one another, one another's crutch, holding the other up. But it couldn't last. This was my last season. Upon this thought, my spirits fell along with myself as I was lowered back to the ice.

"We would definitely stink if we ever tried our hand at pair skating," I laughed as we slid to a stop, Viktor grinning wider that I'd seen in a while. So he'd felt it too. He'd felt the magic.

"Only because we never practice the moves!" He said excitedly. "But that was amazing!" He raised his arms in the hair and twirled like a child.

"You looked so graceful up there!" He sighed. "Imagine if we actually learned how to do lifts and throws!"

All I could do was grin, so much so that my slightly pink cheeks began to ache. But I couldn't bring myself to say anything, for fear of blurting out that it couldn't be so. That life, that reality, would get in the way of our dreams. That's just what they were after all. But then Viktor got that look in his eye, the one that I'd seen so often when he was inspired. Inspiration was the end-all for Viktor. He had an idea, and he was going to see it through. He grabbed my hands and held them in his own excitedly, and he was practically jumping up and down with excitement. I almost shied away because of how close he was. My face was heating up too, I could just feel it.

"W-what is it, Viktor?" I stuttered. He looked me dead in the eyes.

"Promise me, Ali," he said, his tone holding a surprisingly serious tone, considering his accompanying childish behaviour. "Promise me that some day...when we're ready...we'll compete in the pair-skating division together!" His grip on me tightened slightly. My eyes widened in shock. I may have stopped breathing, but I'm not sure.

"V-Viktor, I-"

"Not now! Don't worry! In a few years or something! I can just see it! Two champions forming the perfect team! We're already practically a team!" He leaned even closer and held up his pinky, his new ponytail pulled over his shoulder. "Pinky promise?"

I opened my mouth to tell Viktor that it wouldn't work out. That this was my final season in competitive skating and that my mother hadn't given me the option to refuse. I was leaving for college, and there was no way I could balance both. Who knew if I'd even be studying in the country? That's what I should have said.

But instead, I did what was probably the cruelest thing possible. Something that made one hold onto hope, hope that would inevitably be shattered eventually.

I made mistake number two.

สอง

二

екі

due

два

I took his pinky, and made a promise I couldn't keep.

A/N - Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed! Sorry for the late update! School stuff! I have an exam on Tuesday soooooooo.....yeah it's been hell. Please leave a vote or a comment! I love feedback and fangirling and all that good stuff! Have a great weekend!