Smoke and Mirrors : Royal Angels I

Thin ice

~Daniel~

This isn't rocket science.

Because I knew enough aeronautics to make a rocket.

This is Mission fücking Impossible.

Adriana glided over the ice on her skates, as graceful as a prima ballerina.

Whilst I was busy consistently falling on my äss like Charlie Chaplin.

It had snowed all week and the lake a few miles away from the mansion had frozen over, the ice thick enough to support me fall like a skittle minus the bowling ball.

In all fairness, Adriana had tried to help me because she was a poised soul who didn't understand that some of us were born with two chopsticks for feet.

No manuals were ever written for chopsticks on fücking ice skates.

Eventually I just gave up and sat cross legged on the ground. My butt was probably going to get frostbite but the view was certainly worth it.

The princess moved like poetry over her empty rink, dancing to an invisible crowd to her own silent song.

Why are you so goddämn out of my league?

She didn't notice that I was watching her so she didn't feel self conscious like she usually did. Her feet left the ground in a twirl, her skates cutting the ice with confidence.

And you can't even move in a straight line without making like the weird giant air puppet at the gas station.

The first three jumps she nailed, adding another twirl with every try and sticking the landing like a figure skater.

The fourth she twisted her foot and lost her balance, falling on the ice.

I'd never missed the ability to run in my life. Now seemed to be a great time to start.

She was alone out there, probably hurt, in pain -

A soft laugh cut through the cold air.

I ran a hand through my hair, smiling.

It was always the little things.

The little things that were nailing my own coffin shut because this woman would be the death of me.

"Well, my instructor always did say I was clumsy." Adriana said sheepishly. She dusted herself off and skated over to me.

"If that's clumsy, that makes me paralysed. Or retarded." I muttered. "Probably both."

She smiled, helping me up. "It's not that hard. I've just had a lot of practice."

"And I've had a lot of pizza." I muttered. "The only balancing my gut does is between alcohol and food."

"Just follow me."

She put her arms on my shoulders and pulled me steadily onto the ice. Eventually, we settled into an easy pace and rested her head on my chest like we were slow dancing.