“One more time, and this time, breathe through the turn!” His voice rang out, low and certain, cutting through the chatter of the young skaters.
A girl in a bright purple sweater nodded with wide eyes before skating off to try again. The other first-years clustered near the edge of the rink, their expressions a mix of focus and awe. Wynter carried himself differently here—no teasing remarks or casual jokes, just sharp observations and thoughtful advice.
“Better,” he called as the girl executed her spin. “But don’t rush the entrance. Let your arms guide you, not the other way around.”
He skated backward effortlessly as he spoke, every movement fluid and deliberate. I could feel the admiration in the room like a tangible force, and I found myself captivated, too. This wasn’t the Wynter I was used to—the one who couldn’t go a conversation without a sarcastic comment or a smug grin. This was someone… magnetic.
For a moment, I wondered if I’d underestimated him.
He noticed me then, his dark eyes meeting mine across the rink. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, quickly replaced by a warm, knowing smile. But before he could say anything, another skater called for his attention, and he turned back to his students.
I took a seat on the bleachers, watching as he coached the group through their routines. Every so often, he’d throw in a teasing remark that had them laughing, but he never lost that air of control. By the time the session ended, I was practically shivering—not just from the cold, but from something else I couldn’t quite name.
Wynter skated over to me, pulling off his gloves as he leaned casually against the railing. “Didn’t think I’d see you here,” he said, his breath misting in the air.
I shrugged, trying to keep my voice steady. “I wanted to see if all those stories about you being a great coach were true.”
“And?” He tilted his head, a teasing glint in his eyes.
“I’m impressed,” I admitted, folding my arms. “They really look up to you.”
He smirked, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “Don’t sound so surprised.”
“It’s just… different,” I said, searching for the right words. “You’re different here.”
“Different good or different bad?” He quirked an eyebrow.
“Different good,” I said softly, and his smirk melted into something gentler. “You’re much stricter with them than you ever have been with me.”
“Would you prefer that?” He questioned.
“Prefer what?”
“ if I directed you more harshly.” He explained stepping closer towards me, his light brown eyes twinkling, I backed up against the glass. “If I was more demanding, got more hands-on with you.”
“Maybe. It’s not like I can’t handle it. I’m a ballerina for crying out loud.” I cleared my throat.
“Be careful what you wish for, Soh.” He nodded with a menacing grin and I shoved his shoulder.
For a moment, we just stood there, the cold air swirling around us. Then he straightened, that mischievous grin back in place. “Well, since you’re here, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” I gasped sarcastically, “For me, to what do I owe the pleasure Kwon.”
“You can’t call me by my last name, that’s far too formal.” He disapproved, a slightly hurt look tinged across his soft features.
“What do you want me to call you?”
“I like it when you call me Wyn.” He spoke but it came out as more of a whisper. “I want to beyourWyn.”
“You want to…”
“So about that surprise.” He diverted almost as if he suddenly got shy.
TheWynter Andy Kwon got shy.
“What’s the surprise Wyn?”
“Well.” He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret. “We’re going on a date. Right now.”
