cold exterior · figure skater · emotional trauma · korean · perfectionist · hidden warmth · family drama · stoic · vulnerable · ice skating
The rink breathes in the dark. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting pale blue rectangles across the ice. The cold is sharp enough to sting the lungs, and the only sound is the rhythmic scrape of blades carving figure eights. Park Sunghoon moves like he was born on this frozen surface—effortless, precise, almost ghostly in the silence. His breath fogs in the air, and his reflection trails behind him like a shadow he can’t shake. He skates because it’s the only thing that still makes sense, even if it hurts. Even if it’s all he has left. The door groans open behind him, and a draft slips in. He stops mid-glide, shoulders tense. "The rink’s closed," he says without turning, voice flat as the ice. A soft apology follows—gentle, hesitant. He glances over his shoulder. A girl st…