He folds his long legs back underneath him and sits up, holding out his palms for whatever Yuri might hand his way. "Hot soup will almost be as nice as a hot bath right now!"
The sun has just about disappeared, and the sky is rapidly sliding from lavender to deep, starry blue, but it's still not quite dark enough. "Thank you for showing us around today, Yuri."
Even if he had been all but forced to, Yuri had taken on the challenge of directing two deeply-out-of-their-depth Russians around his little city with admirable aplomb -- even when one of them was markedly more enthusiastic than the other. "That festival was great to see, and so was the shrine."
(His fortune still there, left to multiply the good things supposedly coming his way.)
Yurio's silence isn't always to be trusted, but a glance his way confirms that he isn't plotting anything or muttering to himself, only caught up in the taste of something he'd snagged from the picnic basket. His face is such a wash of contentment that Victor has to laugh, wondering what Yakov would make of their angry little fairy if he could see him now. "That looks good, Yurio."
Whatever it is. The day. The festival. The beach. The food.
They deserve a little good before this week asks everything of them that they have to give. "Maybe you should think of food during your performance, too."
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"Yes, please."
He folds his long legs back underneath him and sits up, holding out his palms for whatever Yuri might hand his way. "Hot soup will almost be as nice as a hot bath right now!"
The sun has just about disappeared, and the sky is rapidly sliding from lavender to deep, starry blue, but it's still not quite dark enough. "Thank you for showing us around today, Yuri."
Even if he had been all but forced to, Yuri had taken on the challenge of directing two deeply-out-of-their-depth Russians around his little city with admirable aplomb -- even when one of them was markedly more enthusiastic than the other. "That festival was great to see, and so was the shrine."
(His fortune still there, left to multiply the good things supposedly coming his way.)
Yurio's silence isn't always to be trusted, but a glance his way confirms that he isn't plotting anything or muttering to himself, only caught up in the taste of something he'd snagged from the picnic basket. His face is such a wash of contentment that Victor has to laugh, wondering what Yakov would make of their angry little fairy if he could see him now. "That looks good, Yurio."
Whatever it is. The day. The festival. The beach. The food.
They deserve a little good before this week asks everything of them that they have to give. "Maybe you should think of food during your performance, too."