Chapter 1
Saint Petersburg was being covered in a perfect blanket of snow. The buildings in the far distance were blurred in the background, and the ivory snow descended idly as it gently covered everywhere it landed. From where he was standing he could observe the onion domes protruded solemnly above the rest, accentuating the landscape by the typical orthodox influence on Russian architecture. I should not venture too much outside when it is probably below seven degrees Celsius , Yuuri idly thought as he hugged himself through the fabric of the trench coat he was wearing. But he needed to step out to the balcony in order to take a breather from the suffocating tension that enveloped their apartment. That feeling embodied a kind of heaviness and a bitter realization that even the best marriages carry their own challenges. Yuuri's body involuntarily shivered at the thought and because he was starting to feel the chill biting through his clothes. He was still not used to Russian's winters and staying out for too long turned the tip of his nose icy and red and so did his ears. He huffed warm breath into his numbing hands and rubbed them together, knowing that it was time for him to get back inside although he was reluctant in doing so;
And he didn't know why.
Finally he gave in and stepped through the glassed door and into the kitchen area. He headed to the bedroom and shed his coat onto a hanger. Since they had a heater inside, there was sufficient warmth ventilating in their apartment. A warm hot chocolate sounded like a perfect idea to ease the cold, maybe I should make one for Viktor too, he thought to himself as he cross the empty kitchen once again. He knew that a small gesture like that was good remedies to ease any tension between Viktor and himself since it had worked in the past. Yuuri walked over to the counter and started filling the kettle with water and switched it on. While he waited for the water to boil, he prepared two mugs and filled them with a teaspoon of drinking hot chocolate. With a soft thud, the kettle was ready so Yuuri lifted it and filled the mugs with hot water when a sudden realization came to him; and it was a bitter and sharp like a slap in the face.
His hand was shaking so badly that he had to put the kettle down. His body started to feel as though it was going to become wrecked with a sobbing fit. His wedding ring reflected dully against the light bulb as he placed his hand over his mouth and tried to prevent the whimpering that were escaping from his mouth. It wasn't until he noticed the droplets falling on the counter that he realized that he was crying. He sniffed and ran his hand through his hair as he pulled back a chair and sat down, mulling over the memory;
Viktor putting on his trench coat and walking out of the door, the sound echoing dully as Yuuri was left alone in the apartment.
Hot and thick tears blurred his vision so he removed his glasses and dried his eyes with the back of his sleeve. He discarded the glasses on the table and buried his face in the gap between his arms. The most painful realization for him was the fact that Viktor continued to distance himself in order to process through everything that has happened, while leaving Yuuri feeling powerless to help him. Only now he could understand that his husband better, but it also made him realize that he was a fool to believe that he knew Viktor better than anyone else in the world, and that was a bitter pill to swallow. He thought about their marriage and how beautiful it was, but now he's forced to realize that it was more flawed than it appeared to be. Yuuri wondered to himself how really involved he was in this relationship, when Viktor failed to speak about such important matters to him. Perhaps it was selfish because he knew it was difficult subject to talk about but Viktor decided to keep him in the dark. He couldn't even open up to him little by little as Yuuri did and so it was painful to know that this level of trust was not returned.
He thought that he knew Viktor more than anyone in the world; his odd habits, his insecurities, the freckles on his body and Yuuri worshipped every little thing about him but somewhere deep in his heart, that adoration still had a hold on him. He is that young boy who grew up admiring Viktor from afar and he dreamed that someday he would compete equally on the same ice with the Russian legend. It was the very thing that drove his passion for skating forward, and again it was Viktor himself who had pushed him forward when he thought that he lost his place in the skating world. Those thoughts brought him strength, but now he could no longer look back at those feelings and memories without feeling confused, and he hated it. He felt guilty for feeling at loss when he thought of his husband.
He still wants to work things out with Viktor, he didn't want to lose all the incredible things that they shared together. Viktor just needs to think things through and he'll come back and then we can make things right again. Absent-mindedly, he lifted his head and his glimmering brown eyes darted towards the door as though he expected the doorbell to ring any time soon. His stomach twisted terribly and so he shut his eyes and tried to keep his anxiety in check.
Yuuri felt something wet and cool tingling on the back of his hand so he opened his eyes again and found that Makkachin was there. The dog lifted his eyebrows and looked at his human caretaker with doe eyes. He chuckled and petted the dog's head, feeling strangely uplifted when he remembered that Viktor had left Makkachin in his care. It occurred to him that not everything was lost because there was still time for them work things out. They were still in a moment of transition.