So, this was inspired by the same thing that happened to me when I was young; guys, always wear your shoes no matter what, or else you'll suffer like me!
Enjoy!
"Yuuri!" Viktor called out.
Yuuri placed his left hand on his hip, looking in the direction of where his husband called. "What is it?" he called back.
"I can't find the conditioner, where did you put it?" Viktor answered.
Yuuri shook his head. "It's on the windowsill!" He looked back at the stovetop, flipping a piece of toast on it. As so, a pair of small feet walked over the silver floor, as silver-haired streaks flew in the wind.
Yuuri raised his brows and turned to the floor. "Oh hi, Vassie, did you sleep well?" he smiled, looking at his young daughter, Vassilissa.
Vassilissa nodded, her brown eyes looking at Yuuri. She was dressed in a purple nightgown.
"Yuuri!" Viktor called out again.
Yuuri groaned. "Darn it…" He set the tongs on the counter. Before he could tend to his husband, Yuuri said to Vassilissa, "Stay right here, baby, okay?" Yuuri smiled larger. Vassilissa nodded again.
Yuuri walked to the bathroom, his fists swinging in the air. "Oh Viktor, if this is some excuse to get me where you are, I'm not having it!"
Vassilissa watched her papa go, her blinking only once. She walked to the fridge, hoping to help her papa with juice when her bare foot stepped onto something.
Once Yuuri stepped into the bathroom, he found Viktor in a white shirt and boxers. The silver-haired man looked pouty as if he were some child in trouble.
"Viktor, what happened?" Yuuri demanded, holding his hands up.
"I still couldn't find the conditioner on the sill either," Viktor answered. Yuuri looked like he could just tear his hair out. Damn it. The man's brown eye looked at the wooden hamper that was by the shower; he saw a gray bottle in it.
"Oh Viktor why-" before Yuuri could grab it, he heard the sounds of Vassilissa shrieking. Yuuri gasped. Damn it again! Both men looked worried, both rushing from the bathroom, as Viktor cried "Vassilissa!"
Even though Vassilissa was an extremely quiet child, her shrieking radiated through the whole apartment. The eight-year-old was grabbing onto the chair next to her, as she had her leg up on her left hand.
Her parents ran to her side with Viktor looking at her foot. Yuuri hugged his daughter, rubbing her stomach and he shushed her, hoping to calm her as small tears fell down her cheeks.
Viktor cursed under his breath, grabbing a piece of paper towel from the table. A dead bee was under his daughter's foot.
"Yuuri, it's alright, it's just a bee," he said. He pulled the bee off, smiling at his daughter. Vassilissa still had a few tears on her face, as her father took her chin. Viktor pulled out a piece of ice and placed it under her foot.
Viktor tried to soothe her, rubbing her cheeks. He tilted his head, eyeing her. "Shh, hush my sweet," he said.
The eight-year-old sniffed. It took at least a few cheek rubs and a hug and a kiss from Yuuri, and she was at ease.
"You okay, now, Vassie?"
The child answered. "Yes, father."
"Okay," Viktor hugged her, patting her back. He eyed his daughter. "I'm gonna go find your shoes, stay right here." The man told, patting her back and going to her room. Yuuri lifted her up and placed her on the chair.
"Here you are, dear," Viktor said, placing her sandals on. Yuuri patted her head.
"Do you want food, dear?" Yuuri asked.
"Yes, papa." She answered. With that, Yuuri went back to the stove top. He pulled out a white plate from the cupboard. He placed two pieces of French toast on the plate, in front of Vassie. Her father Viktor took a quick shower, scrubbing his hair as Yuuri sat next to Vassie, digging into his breakfast.
Vassie chewed, Yuuri asking if it was good. The child answered, yes. Yuuri chuckled, lightly stroking her long, silver hair. It was like her father's when he was young. After Viktor dried off and put his clothes off, he served himself. Viktor and Yuuri hugged Vassilissa, as she lightly kicked her feet around.
The family finished off their breakfast and spent the day outside.
End.