As if it wasn't cold enough outside already, the witch insisted on going ice skating. It was their 3 month anniversary and Darko didn't want to mess things up so soon, so he agreed to take her to the skating rink.
The man wasn’t even good at ice skating and he was about 90% sure the witch only wanted to go ice skating because she knew this and wanted a good laugh. If not that, to watch him fall flat on his ass and mope about it for moments after.
Icy was waiting for him outside. She couldn’t be any more underdressed for the winter season; Darko was freezing in his three layers of clothing and she was just standing there in her tube top and miniskirt.
He saw her eyes scan him over. She gave a snort, “need another sweater with that?”
“Actually, yeah, kind of.” Darko replied.
Icy rolled her eyes and let his hand slip into hers. The moment his hand met hers she began tugging him off—he was never quite fast enough for her. In reality the woman walked at a borderline running pace. Eventually Icy had broken the hold deeming that he was slowing her down. She pretended not to care if she left him behind, but would occasionally spare a glance back to make sure he wasn’t too far off.
And he couldn’t imagine that it’d get any better once they were inside. In fact he nearly counted on Icy moving even quicker on the ice. She would be in her element.
By the time he caught up with her, Icy was already leaning in the entryway. She barely gave him time to catch his breath before rushing him into the building.
It was already decently crowded. Of course no one was shoulder to shoulder (by force) but there were certainly enough people to make him crash bound. No doubt he’d take a few down with him.
Icy was surprisingly helpful at first. When they stepped onto the ice Darko’s stance was rather messy and wobbly. Icy had allowed him to lean on her until her regained his balance. How the small woman managed to hold up his weight and her own was a mystery to him.
But he didn’t question it.
While the surprise was nice it didn’t last. After he mastered balancing he was left to his own accord. Icy hadn’t even shown him how to keep his balance once he started skating…nor did she tell him how to come to a graceful—or at the very least decent—stop.
Darko was slowly scooting his way forward—eventually resorting to a clumsy walk, clomping along the ice. Icy—probably on her 10 lap around—would shoot him that mocking smile and laugh at his last ditch efforts to keep his footing.
Whilst Darko was an utter embarrassment to all things made of ice, his girlfriend seemed to be the heart of it all. She seemed to draw the eyes of most everyone in the room between her mid-air twirls and perfect lands.
Each and every motion was full of grace and awe.
Not one act overshadowing another.
His sparkling moment of glory came much later in the day. Icy was just passing him again—this time adding a sort of show-offy spin. Darko…he was flailing his arms (sadly) drawing more attention than she as he tried not to land on his ass. Darko decided it was then or never; he grabbed Icy’s arm and took her down with him with a halfhearted “sorry, collateral damage.”
“Nooooob!” Yelled someone from across the rink.
Icy got to her feet with ease and watched Darko struggle for a bit. At last when it became apparent that he was utterly stuck the woman extended her arm.
By the end of it all Darko ached all over; back, arms, legs, and most of all his left butt cheek. But he wouldn’t bring that up—he had no desire for any further embarrassment. He was content to cling to what remained of his dignity.
“Next time, I’m choosing the activity.”
The man wasn’t even good at ice skating and he was about 90% sure the witch only wanted to go ice skating because she knew this and wanted a good laugh. If not that, to watch him fall flat on his ass and mope about it for moments after.
Icy was waiting for him outside. She couldn’t be any more underdressed for the winter season; Darko was freezing in his three layers of clothing and she was just standing there in her tube top and miniskirt.
He saw her eyes scan him over. She gave a snort, “need another sweater with that?”
“Actually, yeah, kind of.” Darko replied.
Icy rolled her eyes and let his hand slip into hers. The moment his hand met hers she began tugging him off—he was never quite fast enough for her. In reality the woman walked at a borderline running pace. Eventually Icy had broken the hold deeming that he was slowing her down. She pretended not to care if she left him behind, but would occasionally spare a glance back to make sure he wasn’t too far off.
And he couldn’t imagine that it’d get any better once they were inside. In fact he nearly counted on Icy moving even quicker on the ice. She would be in her element.
By the time he caught up with her, Icy was already leaning in the entryway. She barely gave him time to catch his breath before rushing him into the building.
It was already decently crowded. Of course no one was shoulder to shoulder (by force) but there were certainly enough people to make him crash bound. No doubt he’d take a few down with him.
Icy was surprisingly helpful at first. When they stepped onto the ice Darko’s stance was rather messy and wobbly. Icy had allowed him to lean on her until her regained his balance. How the small woman managed to hold up his weight and her own was a mystery to him.
But he didn’t question it.
While the surprise was nice it didn’t last. After he mastered balancing he was left to his own accord. Icy hadn’t even shown him how to keep his balance once he started skating…nor did she tell him how to come to a graceful—or at the very least decent—stop.
Darko was slowly scooting his way forward—eventually resorting to a clumsy walk, clomping along the ice. Icy—probably on her 10 lap around—would shoot him that mocking smile and laugh at his last ditch efforts to keep his footing.
Whilst Darko was an utter embarrassment to all things made of ice, his girlfriend seemed to be the heart of it all. She seemed to draw the eyes of most everyone in the room between her mid-air twirls and perfect lands.
Each and every motion was full of grace and awe.
Not one act overshadowing another.
His sparkling moment of glory came much later in the day. Icy was just passing him again—this time adding a sort of show-offy spin. Darko…he was flailing his arms (sadly) drawing more attention than she as he tried not to land on his ass. Darko decided it was then or never; he grabbed Icy’s arm and took her down with him with a halfhearted “sorry, collateral damage.”
“Nooooob!” Yelled someone from across the rink.
Icy got to her feet with ease and watched Darko struggle for a bit. At last when it became apparent that he was utterly stuck the woman extended her arm.
By the end of it all Darko ached all over; back, arms, legs, and most of all his left butt cheek. But he wouldn’t bring that up—he had no desire for any further embarrassment. He was content to cling to what remained of his dignity.
“Next time, I’m choosing the activity.”
