Hey guys, I am proud to announce that am entering this book in the 2017 Fanfiction Awards! I'm not sure how it all works (I don't even know if you can actually enter a book by yourself?) but it would mean a lot to me if I got nominated so like, please. This one shot is for their monthly one shot contest, so here it goes!
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For all of your brothers and sisters, the bone-chilling cold of the ice rink had been a deterrent to the thrill of ice skating. The ice was too slippery, the temperature was too low- but you dared to disagree. The calm exhilaration of gliding across the smooth, glistening surface of an ice-skating rink was unlike anything you'd ever experienced. In the youth of some less confident people, a passion different than one's siblings could lead to them quitting for fear of separation, but the dislike of the sport by your relatives only kindled your devotion to the activity.
The rigor of ice skating was one thing to be accounted for when your parents tried to dissuade you from pursuing the practice, but the clenching and release of muscles, the inhale and exhale of oxygen, the rush of adrenaline you couldn't suppress just fueled your desire to be out in the spotlight, doing what you loved. It was hard for your parents to admit that the sport was not beneficial to you; your current position as Rapunzel in Disney On Ice's "Tangled" produced large sums of money. Of course, you weren't in the show specifically for the money- or the thrill, surprisingly- you were in it for the opportunities and for one person in particular: Newt Scamander.
Newt Scamander was playing Flynn Rider. As everyone who's seen Tangled knows, Flynn Rider is the "love interest" (as the director stated it) of Rapunzel; and as everyone who's ever gotten past the thick layer of your steely skin knows, you were deeply and completely infatuated with Newt. Which, as one could guess, made playing opposite Newt a sunny paradise for you.
Such thoughts permeated your brain the most during practices with Newt; your thoughts were filled with not only the complicated steps and songs, but the man across from you. During one song especially your head was filled with him: the famous ballad I See the Light.
You'd never practiced the song in full. Your hands would get clammy, your throat would close up, and you'd stop; for some reason, the proximity between you and Newt was too much for you to handle. When asked why you you didn't have an answer, but inside you knew. It was because his hand was so close to yours, and a perfect smile was on his face, and the whole scene was so picture perfect you couldn't help but loose every ounce of confidence you had.
"(Y/N)," Newt approached you one day. "I think we should practice our I See the Light Number," it seemed like he'd practiced the statement, and you bet he did; Newt was not a bold person.
You sighed. "I can do the number. I don't need to practice it," you sat down on a nearby bench and began to unlace your ice skates, preoccupying yourself with a task to remove yourself from a conversation you did not want to have.
"You haven't been able to do it once fully through, and I just think that maybe you should try it again..." Newt wobbled awkwardly on his skates, which were still laced on his feet. You had just finished a perfect practice together; well, save for the "I See the Light" number, of course.
"I can do the rest of it perfectly... I just can't do that song." You sighed, finishing the laces of your left skate. You dared to glance at Newt, peering up between the tendrils of hair that snaked over your face. He looked hopeful, and nervous, like he knew you'd do anything for him yet he was scared of what you'd say.
"Yes, that's obvious..." he went red in the face. "But it's okay! You know, I think I might have an idea to help you get the scene right, or something," his accent sounded heavenly with the acoustics of the ice rink.
You straightened your spine briefly, setting your palms on the cold metal of the bench you were sitting on. "What's your idea?" You asked, curious as to what Newt's solution to your problem would be.
"You're a fantastic performer, (Y/N)." Newt said, moving to sit next to you on the bench. You blushed.
"And the only reason I could come up with to you not finishing the song is stage-fright."
"That's not the reason-"
"So I think we should practice it together one more time, completely alone."
Your mouth went dry. "Oh, I don't think that's necessary," you laughed immediately.
"I think it would really help you," coaxed Newt, his blue eyes imploring you to comply.
Your brain frantically searched for a way out of the situation. You couldn't perform the number with him, especially not alone (you'd be in shambles!), but you knew there was no getting around the task. Newt may have had a shy character, but he was stubborn, and once he had an idea he was set on it.
"I don't think it would," you replied breathlessly, shooting to your feet. You almost keeled over, since you'd forgotten to take off the other ice skate. With a sigh, you plopped back down on the bench.
"(Y/N)... whatever is keeping you from doing this routine, I promise I will do my best to help you get over it." Newt leaned forward on his elbows, looking up at you sheepishly through the tangled mess of his hair. "But you have to let me help."
You slumped against the wall behind you, running a hand through your hair. "I don't think there's anything you could do that would make this better. My problem... it's private," you looked at a distant spot on the ground.
Newt nodded. "Okay," was all he said. You sat there in uncomfortable silence, you debating what you could tell him, and Newt waiting patiently for your resilience to crack. Finally, Newt broke the silence with a defeated exhale.
"If you really don't want to talk about it, I won't pry," he smiled gently.
"No!" You exclaimed, your mouth working ahead of your brain. "I... just," you huffed in frustration. "I just get.. uncomfortable, I guess..."
"Uncomfortable?" Questioned Newt, a look of confusion spread across his face.
Your face turned a very attractive shade of red. "You know, this was a bad idea. Next time we practice I promise I'll be able to do it." You started to gather your belongings, quickly unlacing your remaining ice skate.
"No, please.." Newt protested quietly. "You can trust me."
You paused, looking into Newt's pleading eyes. In that moment, you felt completely at ease with Newt- he was one of your best friends, and you could tell him anything. Even if that anything was that you were in love with him.
"I can't do the song because I'm in love with you," you blurted. The words hung in the air, reverberating throughout your ears. Part of your brain couldn't believe you were foolish enough to say those sacred words out loud, and the other half was relieved you had let your feelings out.
Slowly, Newt stood up and laced his warm hand with yours. You turned your head to the side, not wanting to see the expression on his face. "Come with me," he said softly.
"What?" You replied. Newt tugged you toward the rink.
"Onto the ice," he insisted.
"I'm wearing socks!" You protested. "I don't have my skates!"
He released your hand. "Just... come," he skated out a ways onto the ice, beckoning you to follow.
Confused but intrigued, you cautiously stepped onto the ice, which was criss-crossed with deep slashes from the various ice skaters that practiced on it's surface. The cold seeped through the woolen fabric of your socks, almost instantly soaking your feet. You were experiencing the ice rink in a new way, and you weren't particularly sure you liked it.
You shuffled forwards, your hands outstretched to keep your balance. "Newt," you called. "Come back!"
Gracefully, Newt pushed forward on his skates until he was in front of you. "Can I take your hands?" He requested softly. You nodded. Taking your chilly hands in his once again, he started to skate, keeping you upright with his arms.
You started to gain speed, Newt skating impossibly fast while going backwards (which was a feat all on its own) and you growing increasingly nervous that you were going to crash. "Do you know what we're doing?" Newt asked over the light wind that could be heard.
"No," you admitted bluntly.
"We're skating the routine," he replied.
"Could we stop?" You asked. "I think I'm going to fall!" Newt slid to a stop in the middle of the rink.
"(Y/N)..." he smiled. "You don't need to be nervous during the routine."
Something inside of you shriveled in shame. "Why is that?" You asked miserably.
Newt moved closer to you, snaking his arms around you waist and resting his forehead on yours.
"Because," he claimed quietly. "I love you too."
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