Chapter 1 (aka 'until it doesn't get a more official name.' Also, don't mind grammar, nothing is formatting correctly loooll.)
They glided across a sea of glass, each movement made by one a mirror image of the other as if each was dancing with an exact copy of themselves. It was as if they had their hands pressed to a mirror and continued to dance around it. Each time they once again came face-to-face with the line of symmetry, it was as sure as the sun that the person facing them would be prepared to meet their gaze, and two sets of hands would join as one in perfect rhythm with not only their partner but the classical sonata slowly hazing out of the ceiling speakers like morning fog lifting from a dewy field.
The young boy led, though with an abnormally mature stature for only fifteen, he seemed to be more of a man. He commanded the atmosphere of the room with the poise of one, too. Usually they had a large audience, though an empty auditorium did far more to soothe his nerves--the nerves which their abundantly numerous fan-base could never suspect he had. His partner seemed to do a far better job controlling her energy into the routine, and her calm energy was the only thing that seemed to get him through most nights, both in and out of the figure skating rink. They were partners for life, and had been partners on the ice for longer than either could remember, both skaters’ attractions toward each other and the sport almost instantaneous, and known far earlier than most could admit.
Each time he glided forward with his right skate, he glanced down with gentle eyes at the far more vertically challenged young girl he had the pleasure of calling his partner, and each time, he already found gazing back at him a pair of golden-tan irises. When Emily looked up at him, her eyes were full of hope, full of sympathy, full of all the things he could never see in the eyes of anyone else. Not his family, and he could hardly deem anyone in their school a friend. In fact, the concept of friendship was quite foreign to the boy, whose life had been filled with nothing but hardship. The girl’s too, which was secretly why he over-dramatized his own inhibitions far more than was necessary--it gave him a calm feeling to see her happy, to see her focus on him rather than her own heartache.
Emily felt her face grow closer to his, as if an unknown force was pulling them together like magnets. Subconsciously, her tan eyes flicked down to his lips, yet before she could comprehend her own feelings or motives, she was already off the ground, secure in the oh-so-familiar grasp of her partner. She felt like the was flying, a glowing grin creeping onto her lips as she felt her lower-body swinging faster and faster in a tight circular motion, both the vertigo and adrenaline catching up to her as the momentum grew exponentially. Her upper-body felt so lithe, so secure in his strong frame. It was something she attempted to take a mental note of each and every time, yet all of the feelings were so overwhelming that she often forgot just how thrilling the feeling was until the next time it happened. The feeling was so timeless and enamoring that the lifts alone made up half of her passion for the sport.
At just the right moment, Emily’s eyes met Riley’s, which were a dark hue richer than chocolate. She knew what it meant without a word spoken between them, and within moments she was back on the ice, her own skates picking her weight back up in a tactful, smooth fashion. Perhaps second to the feeling of flying was the way Riley set her down after the lifts. He was so gentle, so caring. It was as if he were trying to set down a baby bird, and if he didn'’t do it meticulously and with the perfect touch, something undesired would result. Each and every time they skated, whether it was in an Olympic-sized rink or fooling around on a frozen pond, he treated her with an astonishing maturity and mindfulness for a boy of only fifteen. And it wasn’'t something she could ever or would ever take for granted, yet she couldn'’t possibly imagine her life without him, or without the only sport she’d ever known or loved. Her entire life revolved around those two elements, and the thought of losing either was enough to make her heart hurt in a way that she couldn’'t quite fathom. Yet, it wasn’'t something she ever thought about--she had her whole life ahead of her, the beginnings of a prosperous, long-lasting career, and her best friend and life partner by her side. Wasn'’t it just pessimism that caused doubts and ‘what ifs’ to cross her mind?
Grinning that beautiful smile of hers, Emily attempted to suggest in a professional tone, "I think we should try that lift again, I think we can do better.”
Riley shot Emily a teasingly suspicious glance, his eyes alluding to what he hadn't yet said. Casting aside his retort with knowledge that her fallacious reasoning had been identified by both parties, Riley simply ran his right hand through his thick chocolate-colored curls, giving an adoring smile in the direction of his partner. "Alright, let’s start from the top…"
Evening Thunderstorms, Hail Possible
