"And...?" the memory of them at that celebratory moment on the ice, swept up by emotions and perhaps slightly embarrassingly captured forever on worldwide camera had a dust of pink lightly across his cheeks. Ashton was tempted to just close the gap entirely, end the teasing pretense, give in to the sweetness of a kiss and derail their concentration of warming up and practicing. But a part of him was still childish with Ruth, in a way he still felt like a kid sometimes in the memory of them being kids in this same place, once holding each others' small hands as they clumsily glided across.
It was all worth it seeing the mocking look of insult to his joke as a laughter bubbled at the back of his throat. "Yes yes, well practiced soon to be Dr. Ruth Ellery," it's still insane to him at the sheer power she has to be juggling these two things. Ashton was an all-in kind of guy, once locked in, he was all yours and all in. So for Ruth to be able to excel at both, he couldn't be prouder. He still flashed a cheeky grin at the question after a genuine pause with a glance of affection and pride, "does that mean next time I can reap your rewards and see a doctor for free?"
Ash hummed and simply shrugged at her rebuttal, "we can fake it for a longer period that they are with a new pair of skates." He wouldn't even be one to ask for his opinion on the artistic choices made in figure skating, barely having much taste in the arts himself. As long as Ruth felt it was right and wanted it, there's where his opinion would sit, unwavering with her. He'd happily disagree and debate on anything else in the world but the arts, he leaves it to her expertise unless she really wanted his lowly regular opinion of a common man to the arts.
And with that he snorted at the idea of pulling him into her version of the world on ice. His was more gruesome, more animalistic, just a bunch of people fighting over a puck that a kid at an athlete meet and greet once asked him why they were all fighting over a huge oreo on ice. "Me, figure skating?" Ash asked her to rethink that scenario, he picked up his hockey stick as they made a lap passing by it before he began to casually form up in his own way, gently handling a puck at their relaxed pace while they continued their laps, "you know I literally have no grace, or musicality, or flair. I doubt Team USA wants me on that Olympic team." He could help but chuckled at even the idea, perhaps they can pass it off as a controversial artistic choice. Though he rather not be infamous. One big spotlight on them both last time was enough for him.
Deep blues flashed back to her though, not ever willing to completely dismiss her words, "but lifts? I'm good at lifts, and lifting you up." The difference of their careers on the ice were night and day, yet like eclipses they were also similar enough to meet ever so often. "Maybe- I'm not saying yes, but maybe we can try it again for fun," not at this high stress high pressure environment of representing your country, but something fun just for them. "You could find another man on the ice for the Olympic pair skating, I won't get jealous," a soft but bright laughter echoed in the empty rink for the joke of jealousy but the genuine idea if she ever wanted to actually try it for a different way to push herself, they were both athletes through and through, never settling with their current state.
she avoids the puck, turning in little curves, until she switches positions to skate backwards on the long stretches so she can see him more clearly, cheeks pink from the cold, glowing like only the ice can procure. the calm before the storm, the ability
"i wouldn't say you have no flair." though, they were pulled into different skating classes early on, there was still a hint of each style. she hit the ice like a line change each and every time, he could handle the rink solo just fine. they practiced so long with each other that it was impossible to tell where the moves had first been learned.
"pair skating?" she scoffs, a fake insult at the idea. she'd gotten herself this far and back again, she didn't need someone to help her with that. she knows him better, to see through the offer for the gentility — nothing more. team usa wanted the both of them to stay exactly how they were for the next four years. "you think i need the help?"
her laughter at her own joke comes free and easy, supporting his own humor at the situation they've found themselves in. there was nothing left to be jealous of, nothing at all to question. "i'm not sharing the podium with anyone." a twirl of added support for her own solo career carves a path away from him before she drifts right back into orbit. "well— anyone else."
