Victor doesn't come in, and Victor vanishes, closing his door for him, as soon as he's answered and been given a time table. Leaving Yuri staring at the closed door like he's shifted from a cat to a gaping fish. Because he hadn't been yelled at. It hadn't even been mentioned. None of it. Victor just stood there. And told him they were going to beach. And that he had five minutes.
Probably four now.
Yuri shook himself. A movement almost too like Maccachin, who shows up under his feet and even in his bed more often than Yuri's quite sure how he even got in. But it was comforting. Putting a soft balm on the empty unshapabale ache of Vicchan's loss even after five years of being half a world away from him, even a year after he'd passed. The hurt hadn't cared about the details, seemed more real here at home, where the hole he should be in was, and sometimes it was better when he woke up with Maccahin curled against the bottom of his bed, or even him under his blanket.
An absolute stowaway, but one who asked nothing of him. Except an occasional pet and patience with being licked at.
Three minutes. He blinked, rubbed his eyes and hauled himself off the bed this time. Tossing his night clothes on the rumpled blankets and digging for clean pants and a nice shirt. Then, covering the second with a loose grey sweatshirt. Socks and shoes, hopping around a little, before throwing a look in the mirror as he quickly brushed his hair. He looked about as well as he felt. But he was up, and he was dressed, in what he hoped was the time.
Or close enough to it, after not even attempting to meet Victor's first time mandate on this day. Coming down the hallway, calling his name once in question, as though in search of just where Victor might have ended up in five minutes. It was Victor, after all. But Yuri doubted he turn up forgetful enough this sudden newest trip and just vanished.
no subject
Probably four now.
Yuri shook himself. A movement almost too like Maccachin, who shows up under his feet and even in his bed more often than Yuri's quite sure how he even got in. But it was comforting. Putting a soft balm on the empty unshapabale ache of Vicchan's loss even after five years of being half a world away from him, even a year after he'd passed. The hurt hadn't cared about the details, seemed more real here at home, where the hole he should be in was, and sometimes it was better when he woke up with Maccahin curled against the bottom of his bed, or even him under his blanket.
An absolute stowaway, but one who asked nothing of him. Except an occasional pet and patience with being licked at.
Three minutes. He blinked, rubbed his eyes and hauled himself off the bed this time. Tossing his night clothes on the rumpled blankets and digging for clean pants and a nice shirt. Then, covering the second with a loose grey sweatshirt. Socks and shoes, hopping around a little, before throwing a look in the mirror as he quickly brushed his hair. He looked about as well as he felt. But he was up, and he was dressed, in what he hoped was the time.
Or close enough to it, after not even attempting to meet Victor's first time mandate on this day. Coming down the hallway, calling his name once in question, as though in search of just where Victor might have ended up in five minutes. It was Victor, after all. But Yuri doubted he turn up forgetful enough this sudden newest trip and just vanished.