Page 126 of Chasing Gold, Catching Her

Alisa pursed her lips thoughtfully before nodding.

They posed again, Alisa’s hand still resting against Tora’s waist. But this time, just as Tora raised the camera, she turned toward Alisa instinctively and Alisa mirrored the movement, their lips meeting directly in front of the lens.

“You wanted to kiss my cheek too!” Alisa giggled against her lips.

Tora laughed back softly. “Well… this is honestly better than what I had planned.”

This time Tora did not even check the preview. She immediately pressed print, wanting the final image to stay a surprise.

While the camera slowly processed the photo, Tora turned back toward Alisa and kissed her again with these soft little kisses against her lips, smiling between them. Alisa tasted warm and sweet somehow, like summer evenings and recklessness and the kind of happiness that made you forget the rest of the world existed.

To Tora, Alisa embodied this fierce, fragile feminine strength that constantly survived despite everything trying to break her apart.

And to Alisa, Tora was still something dangerously close to a goddess.

Maybe that was why they fit together so naturally.

“Fuck, I missed you so much, Alisa…” Tora murmured quietly between those small, sloppy kisses, and Alisa nodded with her eyes closed, almost trying to hide the tears that desperately threatened to spill from her eyes and set her emotions free.

The camera hummed again behind them, and the finished photo finally slid out.

The shot came out almost absurdly perfect, the arch behind them blurred softly into glowing lights while they remained sharply in focus, kissing in the center of the frame.

Tora looked at the photo for a second, visibly delighted, before flipping it over and pressing a lipstick kiss onto the back of it.

Then she handed it to Alisa.

Alisa smiled helplessly as she took the photo and slipped it carefully into the pocket of her jacket, as if it were something fragile enough to break if handled incorrectly.

They walked deeper into the park, away from the arch, still hand in hand, letting the night air wrap around them. The city felt almost alive in a different way after dark, it was so much quieter and softer, like it only revealed itself properly once the daytime crowds disappeared. It was strange really, how few people seemed to care about the Olympics happening just nearby… but maybe that was just Alisa’s world shrinking into what mattered most to her.

She glanced sideways at her colleagues on ice earlier in the day, but now, honestly, the rest of the world felt less interesting than the warmth of Tora’s hand.

I just want to be here with her, the thought passed through her mind almost absently.

“How’s your mood before the short program in a couple of days?” Tora asked softly, lips slightly pursed as she looked ahead while they walked slowly along the dim park paths. The air was getting colder now, biting gently through their jackets.

Alisa exhaled, watching her breath disappear into the night.

“Honestly… I don’t know,” she admitted after a pause. “Every time I think about the performance, I get scared. Really scared. Like I’m going to let everyone down. My team, my coaches… everything.”

Tora squeezed her hand a little tighter.

“That’s okay,” she said gently. “It’s your first Olympics.”

“Aren’t you worried about tomorrow? You’re performing with Loke, aren’t you?” Alisa looked at Tora intently as they walked, their steps slow and synchronized on the quiet path.

Tora only smiled faintly, almost effortlessly.

“Yes, we’re performing tomorrow,” she admitted. “But I don’t think I’m really worried. I just… enjoy it. Being on the ice, being in front of everyone. It feels like a routine for me now. Maybe it’s because I’ve done it so many times that I’ve just gotten used to it…”

The first time Alisa competed at a championship as a child, her very first one, when all she had to do was earn an initial rank and perform relatively simple elements, she had been terrified. She was still terrified actually for just stepping onto the ice, terrified of making mistakes, because the coaches saw everything, every tiny error, and disappointment always followed. And the parents were even worse.

They reminded her constantly how many millions had been invested into her figure skating, as if that number had weight she was supposed to carry on her back every time she breathed. And when she lost, there was anger and humiliation. Words that reduced her until she felt like she was nothing at all.

But every single time, Alisa still came back to the rink.

She came back after failures, after competitions that ended in tears, after programs that collapsed under pressure. She came back, she rose again and again even after falling from the simplest jumps, even when her body hurt and her confidence was gone. She kept returning to the ice as if it was the only place that still made sense.