…There’s Waterloo’s Andrew Poje all in black, his raven locks slightly blowing behind him as he strides around the oval…
This journalist needs to sit down… her fan girl is showing…
Is Andrew the hero of some gothic romance novel now?
… Actually, I would be okay with that.
YES. This is literally the beginning of a really bad fan fiction…
The cold of the ice rink was biting and harsh. So different from the thick, muggy air of the world outside. Everything seemed so much more serious and unforgiving in here. The open air felt of freedom and endless summers, but this place tasted of disappointment and bitterness.
Would this end the same way as last time, she wondered? She had her dreams snatched from beneath her before and the memories, fear and hidden desperation clenched in her chest.
A thick sheen of dewy wetness clung to the panes surrounding the rink. With a restless hand, she wiped at it, feeling the droplets of icy water run through her fingers.
A view of the rink and its skaters was now revealed. Shadows moving in the murky haze had uncloaked their form.
Then, through the swirling fog, emerged the imposing silhouette of a man. She immediately recognised him to be Waterloo’s Andrew Poje. He was resplendent all in black, his raven locks slightly blowing behind him as he glided powerfully across the ice.
He looked up and he searched through the foggy frame she had cleared in the glass. His dark eyes fixed upon hers. A small smile reached his lips.
Perhaps there is hope, afterall, she thought to herself…
—- What Kaitlyn was thinking when she went to try out with Andrew for the first time, probably.. god that was so bad I’m screaming. But I got a massive kick out of it