ᴅᴀʏ 3: ʟᴇᴛ ɪᴛ ꜱɴᴏᴡ | ᴀɴᴀᴋɪɴ ꜱᴋʏᴡᴀʟᴋᴇʀ ʰᵒˡⁱᵈᵃʸ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗ ²⁰²²
⋆꙳·❅*‧ ICE SKATING ‧*❆ ₊⋆
warnings: female reader, flirting, fluff. w/c: 1077
notes: my posts should stop flopping and appear in the tags (real)
event masterlist ❄︎ star wars masterlist
"How the kriffing hell do you do this?" Anakin bitterly grumbles, his hand firmly clutching yours like a lifeline as he stares at the snow-sprinkled ice beneath him. You almost want to laugh at his frustration but hold your tongue for the sake of Anakin's ever-inflated ego. He tries again to take a step forward as if he was walking, and if it weren't for your hand, Anakin would have landed flat on his ass, which you can imagine would not have helped his rapidly decreasing patience.
"Careful, Ani. I wouldn't want you to fall now, would I?" The glare Anakin sends you is cold and threatening, a sign that he doesn't appreciate your teasing. You bite back a smile at his reaction before your blades glide across the ice and swiftly change direction.
"Here." To Anakin's surprise, you take his hand and start pushing backwards. At first, he lets you move him, his body slowly relaxing under your fingertips, a sign of the trust he has placed in you. "Push with your dominant foot, then with your other, and glide. Stroking is one of the simplest skills you will ever learn as it is the foundation of everything."
Your feet criss cross each other as you reach the curve of the ice, your toe picks scratching before you continue simply pushing. It takes Anakin a moment as he mules over your directions before his left foot extends ever so slightly. His skate returns to the ice as he mirrors what he did before but on the other foot, and this time he hardly stumbles.
Younglings, teenagers, and adults alike pass you, their chatter never reaching your ears while your attention focuses exclusively on Anakin's progress. Then, finally, his feet come together in a glide, satisfaction shining proudly on his face, bringing a smile to yours.
"See, not so hard," you note, watching as he repeats the steps again, his movements growing more confident and assured by the minute.
"I still don't get how you are so good at this," Anakin mutters, his tone akin to something of jealousy.
"Years of practice, Anakin, years of practice." You chuckle, your head shaking ever so slightly.
"Yeah? Then show me something, pretty girl." You stutter in your movements, taken aback by his request, while a feverish heat rushes to your face. Your eyes dart away from him. It's not as though you're not confident in your skills, far from it, but doing it in front of Anakin? Yeah, no. The risk of embarrassing yourself is too high to even entertain the idea.
"I don't know…I haven't seriously skated in a while. I'm rusty." You round another corner, but this time Anakin pulls you into his chest, your gloved hands still clasped together. For a moment, the both of you just glide, your heart beating furiously as if it was trying to escape your chest. Even though you and Anakin had been involved for quite some time, his closeness, the intoxication of his presence, never lost its effect on you. Simple words parting his piquant lips are able to render you a mess of tangled emotions.
Anakin's mouth remains a hairsbreadth away, and you can feel every warm breath puff over your lips. It's nearly impossible to think of anything besides the insurmountable urge to claim those lips between your own, to feel him closer than you ever thought possible.
Your momentum that you had gained before recedes, and you push the both of you back to a comfortable speed. Anakin's head tilts to the side, his curls brushing against your exposed ear as he leans forward, sure that you are the only one to hear his following words.
"C'mon, sweetheart, be a good girl for me and show me a trick of yours." You're stunned, completely stupified, not by his request but by the hungry lilting in his voice. It never ceases to amaze you the power he has over you and your own willingness to submit to whatever request he has- it's your weakness.
The flow of chatter rises in volume, and you blink once, then twice, only to realize that you are lost in thought. But, of course, it doesn't help your embarrassment to look up and witness Anakin's ego swell at your breathless features. Cocky bastard.
"Fine," you relent, pushing off him towards the center of the rink. Your blades cut deep edges in the ice as you let yourself glide, taking this moment to look up at the gloomy gray sky. Snow falls around you, slowly covering the ice in a sheet of white, while faux trees and lights bring sparkling diamonds of color to this otherwise gloomy day. Yet, you return your gaze forward, passing the cones that keep out non-professional skaters.
You had decided to show Anakin a spin, for they were always preferable to jumps. You could spot Anakin leaning against the barrier, his mouth curved into an attractive, poised smirk. His eyes, however, were dark as if shadow itself resided in them, scrutinizing as if your every move was a clue to a puzzle he couldn't solve. If you were nervous before, you didn't know what to call what you were feeling now.
A couple of crossovers are all it takes to wind up in your spin and step forward. The cold wind nips harshly at your exposed face, and you can feel the cold finally seep into your bones. Your free leg curves behind you and stays there as you arch back, careful to keep your hips pressed forward. Your hands meet, intertwining as they press against your momentum in front of your face. Your arms are kept broad, your fingers the only thing holding them steady. The wind rushes past your ears while your blade rips the ice and drowns out all other noise or distractions. It only feels like seconds before you pull your limbs in and finish out the spin by exiting in a landing position.
People, the rink, and the sky spin at an ungodly rate, and it takes a minute before you gain your bearings and can skate back to Anakin. His irises are tainted with sin and desire, ever watchful as you stop. A smirk of your own ghosts over your lips at your performance.
"What did you think?" Anakin doesn't need to respond, for his expression is dark as the sky above you and, while cocky in its own right, gives him away.
"Beautiful."
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