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Summary
Step. Turn. Twist. Look the judges in the eye.
He imagined flaring his hands to the music, his body bending artistically as his feet crossed over each other, propelling him across the ice.
Twist. Turn. Inner edge — outer edge.
As Vessel mentally cued up a jump, a nagging feeling creeped over his skin, the hair on the back of his neck rising. His laces felt loose. His ankles were unsteady, unsupported by the boots. He looked down, tripping into the jump, careening into the air ungracefully as he tried to see what was wrong, to identify it before he landed—
Or; the one where the past never stops chasing Vessel, but perhaps one day he'll learn that he doesn't have to run from everything.
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Bookmark Notes:
❤️🥰
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Bookmark Notes:
FUCKING INCREDIBLE. needs a reread to do it justice
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Bookmark Notes:
WOWZA
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Bookmark Notes:
FAV
