Ch 2
Yuri's POV
As soon as Beka spills that comment, I am shocked.
"EHHHH? BEKA, DON'T TELL HIM THAT!" I practically scream. Beka and the reporter look at me like I've lost my mind. I realize though, that I've basically just admitted to sleeping with the damn things. Fuck.
"Ok, so maybe I cuddle up with some of them, ok? They… get lonely sometimes. But that doesn't mean I'm a baby or anything…." I feel tears pricking at my eyes. Oh no. Not this again. Beka doesn't know, because there's no way in hell I'd admit this out loud, but I've been crying a lot lately… it started about a month ago. It's a good thing that he doesn't visit except every other weekend because it's easy to pretend that everything is fine for a couple of days. But lately, I've felt anything but normal. And now, now I feel like I'm beginning to unravel. The worst part is, I don't even know why. Nothing's changed… the only thing that's changed is me. It's all really my own fault, isn't it? Dammit, Yuri, why can't you keep yourself together? Why do you have to be so weak?
Beka is looking at me like I have two heads. I know it's because my face is producing tears, which isn't a normal response for me. Shit. He must think I'm an over-emotional crybaby right now. All I want is for him to let it go, to pretend he doesn't see anything. I need him to ignore my failures. Instead, his look softens. Dammit, Beka. I don't want your God damned pity!
I hate him. What is he doing, spilling my private secrets? And having the NERVE to LOOK at me that way? I can't stand it. It's true that a lot of my anger stems from other, unchecked emotions that merely pour themselves through me as anger. This time, however, I am furious. Plain, unaltered, unmeasured FURY is coursing through my veins, and I don't know what to do about it. Before I am aware of my surroundings again, I am stomping into the rink and throwing my bag in the locker room. I lace up my skates in a record time, slink onto the ice, and settle into the only place I can truly release some of this rage. As I skate, I feel myself tearing up some more. SHIT.
I am aware of another presence entering the rink. I know it's Otabek. Shit. I quickly wipe my eyes, and feel my body tense up. What if he saw me cry? What if he thinks I'm a failure? An overdramatic crybaby? Dammit, I can't let him see what a weakling I'm turning out to be…. DAMMIT BEKA, DON'T COME NEAR ME RIGHT NOW, I CAN'T HANDLE IT….
I'm coming undone. I'm not SUPPOSED to come undone, though. I am the Ice Tiger of Russia, known for my fierce and nonchalant attitude, my carefree spirit. Not my ability to cry; I am not a katsudon.
I feel a hand on my shoulder. "Yuri….?" He asks, tentatively, softly. I hate when he uses that tone with me. The tone of a person trying to soothe an injured animal, or a weak piglet. I can NOT let him see my weakness. I quickly sniffle my tears, and allow the fury to take complete control once again.
"Beka, I. Am. FINE." I spit out. I don't dare to look at him yet, lest I start crying again. I don't know if he sees me getting super emotional, but in case he hasn't I can't allow him to start.
"Actually, you know what?" I turn around to face him, with a predatory glare in my eyes. The tears are quelled, thankfully, and in place is that fury that everyone has grown to expect of me. Only, in a larger quantity than is normal. He'll know I'm upset, but at least he won't know how upset I truly am. If that makes any sense… it probably doesn't. I don't make much sense right now, even to myself.
"I am NOT FINE. Beka, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?! Why do you run your mouth like that? I am not a child, and I DO NOT SLEEP WITH MY STUFFIES ALL THE TIME." I know he didn't mean to upset me, it was just a comment, I am taking this way out of proportion. But right now, I can't help it. I am so angry, I don't care how foolish I sound. I am angry at him, but also angry at myself. Shit, shitshitshitSHIT. Otabek stares at me, in shock. We fight, yes, but we normally don't fight like this. He's still annoyed with me, I can tell. His shocked expression slowly conforms into a menacing sneer.
"Well, at least I don't talk when I chew. Or forget to set the alarm, causing me to almost miss my flight every other trip…."
"Oh, yeah? Well AT LEAST I WIN GOLD MEDALS." I know it was petty, it was stupid, as soon as I say that I clamp my hand over my mouth, and then scowl at myself. Shit, what the fuck…. Before I can register Otabek's reaction, I am skating off the ice and throwing off my skates as quickly as possible. I grab my bag and run as fast as I can towards my apartment, not bothering to look back to see if he has followed me. I know he probably hasn't. Why would he have? That was a stupid low thing for me to say. Even for me.
As I run through the door, I kick off my shoes and run into the bathroom, turning the water as hot as it will go. Not bothering to check the temp, I jump inside and let the water fall down. I stare down at my hands, which are trembling. My whole body is trembling, furious, loathing. I start pounding my hands against my stomach, my legs, my arms… it doesn't feel like pain. It feels like vindication. I start pounding against the wall, letting the rage clear out of me in the forms of punches, screams and sobs. I am no longer holding back. After what seems like hours, I am sitting here, crouching in the shower. The water is cascading over my head, and my mind is clear from all the anger. All I feel now is exhaustion and emptiness. I don't think, in all my life, I've ever felt more alone than I do now. More alone, and regretful.
What the fuck did I just do? I sigh. It won't be long now. It won't be long now until Beka says goodbye…..
I know I messed up today.
We both said things… but… I love him, you know? I… I haven't told him yet… But I don't want to live without him. And… sometimes I get scared he'll want to leave me and that causes me to say things I don't actually mean.
I don't feel I deserve him.
So, I push him away over some stupid comment and expect him to leave. Of course he stays when it's easy. Everyone does that. But if he's going to leave me when times get tough, I feel as though I should at least control when he walks away by making myself insufferable. It's safer than admitting the truth and hearing rejection. Sure, he may be into me now. But….. for how long?
