Father Winter, Snow Miser, Mr. Ten Below -- a lot of names, don't you think? I prefer Jack. Jack Frost. It's the one the Man in the Moon gave me. He also gave me purpose, so I think I'll trust his judgement.
{ ❆ } —- It felt easy. So easy. Pushing her feet to propel her forward, Elsa took off on her left foot, managing three and a half revolutions before landing gracefully on her right, a smile gracing her face once she realized she’d done the triple axel correctly —— the revolutions were what got her every time, she never seemed to get them right —— and allowed herself a layback spin in glee, arching her back and lifting her leg, her hands forming a graceful arc above her.
It was so easy. Almost like breathing.
Deep breaths, Jack.
One, two, three.
It’s just ice. Nothing under there. The most that’ll happen is you embarrassing yourself and getting a bruised ass.
It’s not like you haven’t done that before.
It took some effort and not a small amount of willpower but his hands stopped shaking. There was nothing he could earn while sitting here, and he’d promised himself that he’d at least get out there today. He was off from work, had no plans, and nothing he needed to be doing, so out of past habit, this is where he’d come. Leaning against the side board of the rink, he tiled his head back against and it and tried to go over a routine in his head, but he couldn’t quite envision himself performing it. He remembered doing it, but it had been so long ago. Things had changed. But now, he wanted them to change back. With a soft exhale, Jack pushed himself up off the ground, balancing naturally on the skates and carefully stepping out onto the rink through the door. All he could do was hope he’d been out of the spotlight long enough for his local fame to have died down so nobody would recognize him here, and not collide into anybody.