CRASH & BURN, GIRL!

    afternoon,   𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝘇𝗲𝗻 𝗹𝗮𝗸𝗲,   𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘻, 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘻𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥.

it  felt  cruel  to  be  on  the  ice  in  front  of  her,  preparing  for  the  very  thing  that  drove  the  biggest  wedge  between  them.   the  winter  olympics  had  hung  over  their  heads  like  a  butcher's  knife  on  a  fishing  line  for  too  long  before  ignacio  finally  decided  to  cut  the  cord.    it  wasn't  fair  to  her—    keeping  lexie  at  arms  length  while  he  desperately  grasped  at  victory.    as  awful  as  it  sounds  though,   he  still  liked  knowing  she  was  watching.    yanking  at  his  left  boot,  he  offers  a  small  upturn of his lips.   ❛  never.  ❜    his  subconscious  wants  to  hit  him  over  the  head  for  how  reverent  he  sounds  in  front  of  her. what the fuck are you saying, you idiot?! he attempts to correct with,    ❛  when  a  puck's  flying  at  your  face,  it's  kind  of  hard  to  be  bored.    you  should  let  me  teach  you  a  bit  of  it  one  day.    'promise  i'll  go  easy.  ❜

badrutt's   palace,   wine   cellar   /   11.23 pm.

knowledge  of  wine  is  far  from  ignacio's  specialty—    he's  much  more  of  a  'drink  whatever  is  in  front  of  me'  kind  of  guy  rather  than  a  glorified  grape  juice  purist.    alcohol  is  alcohol  and  red  versus  white  meant  more  about  which  color  he  thought  seemed  more  appealing  than  anything  else.    he  thinks  for  a  moment  that  his  mother  would  surely  kill  him  if  he  ever  uttered  such  blaphemous  words  around  her.    " not  at  all. "    broad  shoulders  lazily  rise  and  fall,  entirely  oblivious  to  his  newfound  companion's  desire  to  be  left  alone.    " how  the  hell  do  people  tell  the  difference  between  these  things? "

his plan had been to spend the entire day on the slopes, fully enjoying the last vacation before the new season kicked off, but despite the sun still high in the sky, feet dragged through the snow after the other. each step took him further away from the mountain. he removed his googles and adjusted his hold on his snowboard.  ❝  i still say we had time for one more run. this is a vacation; what's the rush? ❞

" time isn't the issue, man. " he shrugs, dusting fallen powder off the front of his goggles. the cold was something he was incredibly familiar with, but the snow itself was bothersome. thick and hard to move through in heavy gear— very counterintuitive in his opinion. " you don't want to overexert yourself this early into the trip, do you? "