tyramarta
- Reads 1,476
- Votes 64
- Parts 55
Park Sunghoon is Korea's Ice Prince.
Perfect. Untouchable. Cold.
Jake Sim is Australia's Sun on Ice.
Warm. Loud. Golden.
They've hated each other since they were 14.
Rivals. Opposites. Enemies.
Now they're 20.
Roommates.
Olympic training camp.
Zermatt.
Three months. One room. Zero words.
"We're not friends," Sunghoon says on day one.
Jake doesn't argue.
Enemies don't talk.
Enemies don't look.
Enemies don't care.
But Jake looks anyway.
He sees the weight Sunghoon's lost.
The bruises under his sleeves.
The way he flinches when Coach Kim raises his stopwatch.
The way he doesn't eat.
The way he bleeds on the ice at 4AM to block the noise.
Jake should stay out of it.
We're not friends.
But every time Sunghoon cries, something in Jake breaks.
So he sleeps on the floor.
So the noise isn't as loud.
He leaves food. No notes.
He stands between Sunghoon and his coach during panic attacks.
Doesn't touch. Doesn't speak.
Just stays.
Because Sunghoon's coach says "Eat and you get slow."
Because Sunghoon whispers "the suit's too tight" before he sobs until his whole body is sore.
Because one night, Sunghoon cuts too deep.
And the only door he crawls to is Jake's.
"We're not friends," Sunghoon says, bleeding on Jake's floor.
"I know," Jake says, pressing a towel to his wrist. "Go back to sleep."
This is not a love story.
Not yet.
This is a story about winter.
About a boy who was taught he's only worth gold.
About a boy who burns himself on other people's ice.
About staying.