Chapter 30 Yours, Excruciatingly Eternally
Yours, Excruciatingly Eternally
YESOH’S POV
The rink was a cathedral of cold, its air electric with the crisp sound of blades slicing across the ice.
Even bundled in my thick coat, I felt the chill seep into my skin as I pushed through the heavy doors.
Inside, the fluorescent lights reflected off the frozen surface, making it gleam like polished glass.
And there he was.
Wynter stood at the center of the rink, a figure of sharp lines and quiet authority. Dressed in black from head to toe—down to his fitted turtleneck and gloves—he looked like he belonged here, commanding the space with a natural ease.
“One more time, and this time, breathe through the turn!” His voice rang out, low and certain, cutting through the chatter of the young skaters.
A girl in a bright purple sweater nodded with wide eyes before skating off to try again.
The other first-years clustered near the edge of the rink, their expressions a mix of focus and awe.
Wynter carried himself differently here—no teasing remarks or casual jokes, just sharp observations and thoughtful advice.
“Better,” he called as the girl executed her spin. “But don’t rush the entrance. Let your arms guide you, not the other way around.”
He skated backward effortlessly as he spoke, every movement fluid and deliberate.
I could feel the admiration in the room like a tangible force, and I found myself captivated, too.
This wasn’t the Wynter I was used to—the one who couldn’t go a conversation without a sarcastic comment or a smug grin. This was someone… magnetic.
For a moment, I wondered if I’d underestimated him.
He noticed me then, his dark eyes meeting mine across the rink. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, quickly replaced by a warm, knowing smile. But before he could say anything, another skater called for his attention, and he turned back to his students.
I took a seat on the bleachers, watching as he coached the group through their routines.
Every so often, he’d throw in a teasing remark that had them laughing, but he never lost that air of control.
By the time the session ended, I was practically shivering—not just from the cold, but from something else I couldn’t quite name.
Wynter skated over to me, pulling off his gloves as he leaned casually against the railing. “Didn’t think I’d see you here,” he said, his breath misting in the air.
I shrugged, trying to keep my voice steady. “I wanted to see if all those stories about you being a great coach were true.”
“And?” He tilted his head, a teasing glint in his eyes.
“I’m impressed,” I admitted, folding my arms. “They really look up to you.”
He smirked, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “Don’t sound so surprised.”
“It’s just… different,” I said, searching for the right words. “You’re different here.”
“Different good or different bad?” He quirked an eyebrow.
“Different good,” I said softly, and his smirk melted into something gentler. “You’re much stricter with them than you ever have been with me.”
“Would you prefer that?” He questioned.
“Prefer what?”
“ if I directed you more harshly.” He explained stepping closer towards me, his light brown eyes twinkling, I backed up against the glass. “If I was more demanding, got more hands-on with you.”
“Maybe. It’s not like I can’t handle it. I’m a ballerina for crying out loud.” I cleared my throat.
“Be careful what you wish for, Soh.” He nodded with a menacing grin and I shoved his shoulder.
For a moment, we just stood there, the cold air swirling around us. Then he straightened, that mischievous grin back in place. “Well, since you’re here, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” I gasped sarcastically, “For me, to what do I owe the pleasure Kwon.”
“You can’t call me by my last name, that’s far too formal.” He disapproved, a slightly hurt look tinged across his soft features.
“What do you want me to call you?”
“I like it when you call me Wyn.” He spoke but it came out as more of a whisper. “I want to be your Wyn.”
“You want to…”
“So about that surprise.” He diverted almost as if he suddenly got shy.
The Wynter Andy Kwon got shy.
“What’s the surprise Wyn?”
“Well.” He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret. “We’re going on a date. Right now.”
I blinked. “A date?”
“Don’t sound so shocked,” he said, tossing his gloves over his shoulder and heading toward the exit. “Now come on, let’s go darling before you start asking too many questions and making a huge fuss about it.”
I followed him, my curiosity outweighing my skepticism.
The car was a pocket of warmth against the winter cold, the heater humming softly as Wynter navigated the snowy roads. Outside, the world was a blur of white and gray, the snowflakes falling thick and fast.
“So,” Wynter said, glancing at me with a sly smile, “how would you rate my coaching back there? Be honest.”
I pretended to think about it. “Seven.”
“Seven?” He shot me an incredulous look. “That’s it? A seven? Were we watching the same practice?”
“Fine,” I said, fighting a smile. “Seven and a half.”
“Ouch.” He groaned, leaning back dramatically against his seat. “I deserve at least a nine. Maybe even a ten. I was actually being lenient today.”
“You’re a solid seven,” I said with mock seriousness. “Maybe eight if I’m being generous.”
“Never heard that one before.” He commented and I rolled my eyes.
“You’re so cocky has anyone ever told you that?” I scoffed. “You’ve grown up far too pretty for your own good.”
“Maybe I just like hearing you call me pretty.” He swallowed gripping the steering wheel.
I made a mental note of that.
“Whatever.”
He glanced at me, his lips twitching like he was trying not to laugh. “You know, I could make you bend over backwards during training for this kind of disrespect.”
“I don’t even train with you and your students,” I shot back.
“Who said anything about skating?” He held my gaze and my mouth hung open in shock, he placed his thumb and pointer finger to my chin and laughed. “Kidding.”
“Ha ha..” I sighed.
“Exactly,” he said smugly. “So I’ll just put you on ice-duty—resurfacing, scraping snow, the whole nine yards.”
“You’re all talk,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.
“And you’re all attitude, always have been.”
“Isn’t that what you like?” I lifted an eyebrow.
We lapsed into comfortable silence for a moment, the kind that only happens when the company feels right. Outside, the snowy forest began to thin, giving way to rolling hills dusted in white.
The heater in Wynter’s car was working overtime, blasting warm air that fogged up the edges of the windshield.
Afterwards Outside, all at once the snow fell steadily, turning the world into a soft blur of white.
I leaned back in my seat, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I was on a date.
With Wynter. Who apparently made executive decisions about these things without consulting me first.
“So,” I said, breaking the silence as I fiddled with the radio. “Is this where you reveal your master plan for the night? Or do I just have to sit here and hope you’re not leading me into the woods to murder me?”
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, his expression cool and unbothered. “That’s Plan B. Plan A is more fun.”
“Comforting,” I muttered, flipping through static-filled stations before landing on one playing a cheesy holiday song.
“Leave it,” Wynter said, his hands steady on the wheel. “It’s festive.”
“Festive is just code for ‘annoying after five minutes.’”
“Sounds like someone’s a Scrooge.”
“Sounds like someone doesn’t know good music,” I shot back, crossing my arms.
He smirked but didn’t respond, his focus returning to the road. The silence stretched, and I wasn’t about to let him win this round of banter by default.
“Fine,” I said, sitting up a little straighter. “Let’s play a game.”
“A game?” He sounded skeptical.
“Yes, a game,” I said, refusing to let his composed demeanor throw me off. “We’re playing I Spy.”
“That’s a kids’ game.”
“And yet, here we are,” I said with a grin. “Come on, Wynter. Don’t tell me you’re too sophisticated for I Spy.”
He sighed, his lips twitching like he was trying not to smile. “Fine. You start.”
I scanned the inside of the car, trying to come up with something good. “I spy with my little eye… something black.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? In a car that’s mostly black? Way to make it challenging.”
“Stop stalling,” I said, smirking. “What is it?”
He glanced around the car, his gaze settling on the dashboard. “The steering wheel.”
“Nope.”
He frowned, his fingers tapping lightly on the wheel. “The seatbelt.”
“Wrong again.”
He gave me a sidelong look. “The giant puffy jacket you’re wearing.”
“Excuse you, this is navy, not black.” I tugged at the fabric for emphasis.
“Looks black to me,” he muttered.
“That’s because you’re colorblind.”
“I’m not colorblind.”
“Then maybe you just have bad taste,” I said sweetly.
He laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “Okay, I give up. What is it?”
I pointed at his gloves, which were sitting in the cup holder. “Your gloves.”
“Unbelievable,” he said, though the corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement. “You’re impossible.”
“Thank you,” I said, flashing him a grin. “Your turn.”
He sighed again, like he was being forced into some great hardship. “Fine. I spy with my little eye… something red.”
I glanced around the car, my brow furrowed. Red? Where was there anything red?
“The taillights of the car in front of us,” I guessed.
“Nope.”
“The emergency light button on the dashboard.”
“Wrong again.”
I squinted, leaning forward as if it would help. “The little stripe on your water bottle label?”
He shook his head, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.
“Ugh, I give up. What is it?”
“The blush on your cheeks,” he said smoothly, his voice laced with teasing.