Chapter Text
Saeran has never been ice skating before. It obviously wasn’t something he had access to as a child, and when he stayed at the cathedral, Rika deemed the practice too unsafe on account of the other people he might meet. At Mint Eye, it was never very much of a priority, and once Saeran finally got out, there were so many other things for him to experience. He didn’t have time for all of them at once!
Now, though, he’s excited to try his hand at ice skating. “Look at these ridiculous rental skates,” you comment, dropping to your knees in front of Saeran. “Let me help you with these. It’s supposed to be kind of tight.”
“Oh.” Saeran understands why you were so careful to get him lower-rise skates with extra padding around the ankle area. You're being careful because the pressure of the skates around his ankles might be triggering for him, after what he went through with his mother and Rika, not to mention that it could upset his physical scars. “Thank you, my love.”
“Let me know how it feels, okay?” You urge softly. “I don’t want to hurt you or ruin your first time on the ice.”
Saeran is wearing thick, fluffy socks, the kind that are most gentle against his skin. For now, he feels okay to proceed. “You won’t hurt me,” he assures you. Since leaving Magenta, Saeran has come to know his own body and its limits. He knows that he’ll be able to handle this, but he appreciates your concern. It’s nice to know that you’re looking out for him and that you’re conscious of his comfort level. You always defer to what Saeran tells you, never trying to shelter him from the world.
“Okay.” You return your attention to the skates, carefully tightening the laces from the bottom up before threading the ends through the metal eyelets on each side of the skates. It takes you a few minutes to fix both of them, but Saeran doesn’t mind— he’d rather have somebody with experience lacing his skates than try to do it himself. In his initial research, he discovered that many people struggle to lace their own skates properly for the first time, and he doesn’t want to take chances. “That should be good. How do you feel? Can you stand up?”
Saeran rises, making a brief attempt to walk on the blades. This endeavor is cut short when he nearly falls over, steading himself by gripping your outstretched arm. “It feels okay,” he informs you. As of now, he’s not feeling any pain, though the skates will take some getting used to. “Let’s try it out on the ice.”
“Alright,” you agree. Despite the fact that you are also wearing skates, you’re able to help Saeran down from the stands and over to the ice. You have much more practice with this than he does, and Saeran wants to see how you skate. “They give out these little, like, bar things for people to hold onto when they’re learning to skate. If you want, I can pick one up for you.”
“Yes, please.” Saeran likes the sound of that. He wants to try skating, and he knows that falling on the ice will be an integral part of his learning process, but he’d still like to avoid it as much as possible.
“Just a minute, then, love.”
You disappear for a few moments and reappear bearing a metal contraption that resembles a walker. “Thank you,” Saeran graciously accepts the thing and uses it to maintain his balance as he shuffles out onto the ice. He’s not very graceful, but the chill of the skating rink is exhilarating. He's glad he brought his hat, jacket, and mittens.
“Try, um, whooshing more,” you advise. "With your feet." Thankfully, you offer a physical demonstration of this cryptic advice.
Saeran tries to copy the way you move your feet. The first time, he nearly falls, catching himself with help from the bar. After a few more near misses, he starts to get the hang of it. “This is fun,” he decides. “I can see why you like it. But how… would one stop?”
“Uh,” you seem to be searching for the words to describe something that’s become intuitive to you after so many years of practice. “Do you see the pokey bit on the tip of the blade? You just dig that into the ice. Like so.” You demonstrate an impressive sort of twist that Saeran greatly admires, coming to a stop in the middle of the ice. The other skaters seem to appreciate this significantly less than your husband does as they swerve to avoid running into you.
“Wow,” he breathes, attempting to copy you, but ultimately stopping only when his shoulder makes contact with the wall of the rink. “You’re very good at this, my love.” It’s always exciting to learn about another one of your talents.
“I’m really not,” you assure him, “I only know the basics. I can’t even skate backwards, and you’re a fast learner, anyway— I’m sure you’ll be skating circles around me in no time, baby. Just you wait.”
“But I’d rather skate in circles together,” Saeran informs you, offering his hand. “It’s more fun that way.”
“You know what? You’re right, and it’ll be easier to support each other if we’re skating together, too.” You take Saeran’s hand, and the pair of you begin another slow lap around the perimeter of the rink.