consider: misala, or mila and sala, the real yuri on ice
-they meet a figure skating competition in florence, mila, the favoured skater by all, sala, the underdog with a bright future. its rivalry at first sight, both of their competitive streaks not fading for a second as they move onto the ice. mila is sure in her abilities, in her sheer strength in power in her jumps, but she isnt cocky. the moment shes left the kiss and cry, shes watching sala as she skates onto the ice, confident despite not a spectator outside her country knowing her name. and she watches in earnest as sala pulls off a performance with grace she can only dream of, watches as the crowd is silenced into adoration as her program ends after what feels like a millennium that had passed in seconds. in seconds, all rivalry is thrown out the door. she comes in second that day, but spends the entire night drinking in her hotel room and asking if italian cuisine is as good as its said to be.
-they hit it off from there, phone numbers exchanged, skype calls and text messages sent during times not on the ice. sala is one part cheer and two parts cheek, teasing even mila, whose known for her antagonistic mannerisms, to a flush in seconds. it doesnt stop mila from retaliating, from sending the girl who exists in bright smiles and beautiful into looks of shock and surprise when she spends a competitions earnings to visit her and sweep her off her feet for real. sala doesnt admit it, ever, but she loves how strong mila is, how she can pick her up in seconds and lift her with ease. you shouldve done pairs, sala teases, poking her cheek. only if you join me, mila responds, sing-song with a wink.
-friendship turns to romance before either girl has an inkling of whats happened. touches become frequent at competitions, either girl leaning over the boards during programs and watching with glee as the other performs, mila, hollering with excitement, sala, silently beaming with pride. the first time sala notices her eyes lingering on mila’s thighs as she jumps is the same day mila kisses her in the halls. she’s just gotten off the ice, hairline slicked with sweat, smile wide and cheery across her face. when she spots sala, she bolts, tackles her into a hug and brushes their lips together before the other has any idea of whats happened. they’re practically the only ones there, and sala cant even bring herself to worry about cameras when mila is lifting her by the waist and smiling against her lips. ive wanted to do that for ages, sala tells her. mila laughs, says, at least one of us had the balls.
-michele, as much as sala loves him, is an idiot. she receives daily compliments of such good friends! and im glad youve connected with another girl instead of fooling around with those boys! sala snickers onto the phone with mila, laughs as her girlfriend (she bubbles and prides at the word, cant imagine being in love with someone this perfect) as she impersonates her brother. it must be so late for her, sala knows, but still stays up until the dawn breaks to hear her voice.
-in the end, nothing really changes besides shared rooms and yuri plisetsky frustrated glares when he realizes hes dealing with two couples instead of one. mila doesnt think theyre that big on pda, but she wont lie: they hang off each other and flirt at any given moment, laughing and catching eyes from across the ice.