It's been a long day (eight months, two years) and he can feel it tugging at him, like Maccachin's teeth in the hem of his coat. Yuri might not want to admit defeat -- and he never does -- but Victor can take that for him. He can take a little more.
"But..."
He always relents so quickly. They should go back, and Yuri should get a good night's sleep, and he should focus on their plan of attack –– but what is there really left to do tonight? And Yuri looks crushed at the thought of leaving already, of returning to their world, of shattering this brief, make-believe vacation.
Victor can carry a little more, but he can't take this. Not when it's such an easy fix. "If you want to walk a little more, I'd like that, too. Let's forget about the nuts. The Christmas markets are right over there, why don't we go take a look, while we're right here?"
no subject
"Well, I'm tired."
He is. In his bones. Muscles. Head. Spirit.
(How many years has it been?
How many months since then?)
It's been a long day (eight months, two years) and he can feel it tugging at him, like Maccachin's teeth in the hem of his coat. Yuri might not want to admit defeat -- and he never does -- but Victor can take that for him. He can take a little more.
"But..."
He always relents so quickly. They should go back, and Yuri should get a good night's sleep, and he should focus on their plan of attack –– but what is there really left to do tonight? And Yuri looks crushed at the thought of leaving already, of returning to their world, of shattering this brief, make-believe vacation.
Victor can carry a little more, but he can't take this. Not when it's such an easy fix. "If you want to walk a little more, I'd like that, too. Let's forget about the nuts. The Christmas markets are right over there, why don't we go take a look, while we're right here?"