Author's note: So sorry for the delay with this chapter! I won't bore you with excuses about how being an adult sucks, so I'll leave you to enjoy the chapter instead.
Warning for mentions of panic/anxiety attacks and a little something mature near the end of the chapter.
I honestly cannot thank my wonderful beta, Spicenee enough for helping me with this chapter. If it weren't for her talking me off a ledge and helping me through numerous brainstorming sessions, I might still be struggling with this so be sure to go give her some love!
A beat passed, the silence deafening as Yuuri stared at Victor incredulously. Victor still held his hands, his blue eyes holding his gaze resolutely.
"I'm sorry," said Yuuri, laughing nervously. "I could have sworn you just said you're a vampire."
Victor nodded enthusiastically, his lips curving into a genuine smile. "I am."
"No you're not." Shaking his head, Yuuri tried to clear his thoughts. It was absolutely insane to even begin to wrap his mind around Victor's confession. "You two are just playing a prank on me."
Yuuri watched as Victor's smile faltered ever-so-slightly, his grip on Yuuri's hands tightening incrementally; if Yuuri didn't know better, he'd say that Victor was disappointed that he didn't believe him. "I'm not playing a prank on you, I swear."
"Prove it," said Phichit. Yuuri turned to look at Phichit; his friend had been uncharacteristically quiet since Victor's confession, but he never took his eyes off of Victor. "Prove that I'm right about you."
"Phichit, you're not still – " Yuuri's breath caught in his lungs as Victor slipped his finger under his chin, guiding his face so that their gazes met again.
"Pay close attention Yuuri." Victor's gaze left Yuuri's for a moment as he regarded Phichit from the corner of his eye. "You too, Phichit."
Yuuri held his breath, gaze unwavering as Victor slowly brought a hand to the corner of his mouth. After the briefest of hesitations, he hooked his index finger into the corner of his mouth, pulling the flesh back to expose his canine teeth. Yuuri's blood ran cold as he watched, transfixed as Victor's canine elongated into sharp fangs.
Fangs.
Perfect for drinking blood from unwilling (or willing) victims.
Yuuri heard Phichit's sharp inhale coupled with a whispered "I was right", though his brain seemed to refuse to process what he had just witnessed. His heart pounded painfully against his ribs, adrenaline pumping through his veins as his body begged him to choose whether to fight or fly.
He found that he could do neither. He sat frozen on the couch beside Victor, his hand still securely in Victor's grasp and he struggled to breathe under the weight of his realization.
"S-so you're..." he whispered, his voice failing him.
"I'm a vampire," said Victor, relief washing into his voice. "You have no idea how hard it's been to keep that a secret all these years."
Wrenching his hands out of Victor's grasp, Yuuri rose to his feet as he frantically scanned the small living room for something – anything – to ground himself. Not finding anything that wound help the slightest, Yuuri settled for pacing back and forth across the length of the room.
"Yuuri, I can explain –"
"What is there to explain?" Yuuri stopped his pacing long enough to glance at Victor before averting his gaze in frustration. "You're a vampire and I'm just..." He laughed to himself, the sound bordering on hysterical even to his own ears. "I'm just your...your..."
Between the storm of emotions and thoughts raging in Yuuri's mind and his exhaustion, he bit back a sob, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. His breath caught in his throat, his chest squeezing his lungs until he couldn't choke down a breath. Curling his fingers into his hair, he pulled on the strands in the hopes that the pain would break through the panic washing over him. His vision swam, lungs burning as he struggled to choke down enough oxygen, his breaths becoming shorter and more uneven.
Cool fingers curled around his hands, gently pulling his hands away from his hair. He tried pulling his hands away, but they just tightened their grip on his hands.
"Look at me Yuuri," came the soft plea.
Yuuri tentatively brought his gaze up, his body shaking as he found himself face to face with Victor. His eyes widened, his pulse skipping under Victor's concerned gaze and his skin growing cold despite the sweat breaking out along his hairline.
"Yuuri, I don't want this to come between us," whispered Victor. He brought his thumb to Yuuri's cheek to wipe away his tears; he was startled when Yuuri jerked out of his grasp, chest heaving as he stared at Victor as if he had turned into some kind of monster.
"Don't – don't touch me," he ground out, teeth clenched.
Victor stood stock still, unsure of how to handle the situation. He had never expected Yuuri to react like this, to push him away after learning the truth he had longed to share for so long. 'You should have known better,' whispered a voice in the back of his mind. 'Everyone runs when they learn the truth.'
Tamping down on the voice in his mind, Victor stubbornly ignored the truth behind the words as he watched helplessly as Yuuri crumbled into a sobbing heap on the floor before him, Phichit by his side.
"Breathe Yuuri. Look at me and breathe," murmured Phichit as he clasped Yuuri's hands in his.
Phichit coached Yuuri through his breaths, counting to four before releasing the breath slowly, albeit a little shakily. Yuuri kept his gaze solely on Phichit much to Victor's annoyance, his cheeks flushed a bright red against the pallor of his skin as he reigned in his breathing. Yuuri hesitantly brought his gaze up to Victor's and for a brief moment Victor thought he might have a chance; his hopes were dashed when Yuuri visibly tensed under his gaze, pupils dilating in fear.
Phichit must have noticed how tense Yuuri was before his gaze flickered up to Victor, his mouth set in a grim line. "I think you should leave."
"But Yuuri –"
"He'll be fine," snapped Phichit, his words clipped with anger.
With a sigh of defeat, Victor turned his back to Yuuri and made his way towards the entryway. Slipping his shoes on, his brows furrowed.
It wasn't fair. Why was he the bad guy for wanting to share his deepest secrets with Yuuri? Shouldn't that be something to praise?
Turning back towards the two men crouched on the floor, Victor opened his mouth to say something, but the sight of Yuuri in tears, body shaking as he curled in on himself in an attempt to make himself appear smaller caused the words to die in his throat. Phichit glanced at him from over his shoulder, the stern expression on his face further deflated Victor. Without another word, Victor slipped out of the apartment feeling more unsure of himself than he had in over a century.
In the week since Victor had confessed to actually being a vampire (something Phichit would be lying about if he said he wasn't just a little bit smug about) Yuuri had spent nearly all of his time moping around the apartment. Phichit would routinely find him lying on the couch, staring blankly at the TV or locked in his bedroom. On the rare occasion he left the apartment for class, he returned immediately afterwards and promptly went back to hiding under the covers of his bed. There had been plenty of tears shed, though they were mostly coupled with bitter mutterings in Japanese, of which Phichit was only able to make out a few choice words.
It was by far the worst break up Yuuri had experienced and Phichit knew exactly how to get him out of his funk.
Pushing the door to Yuuri's bedroom open, he marched past the large lump on the bed, black hair poking out from underneath the covers and threw the curtains open, bathing the room in light.
"Rise and shine Yuuri!" chirped Phichit.
"Don't wanna," grumbled Yuuri as he tugged the covers over his head in an act of defiance.
Gripping the end of the covers, Phichit ripped them off of Yuuri with a flourish, exposing his friend to the elements. He watched in amusement as Yuuri curled in on himself in an attempt to maintain what warmth he had left from his covers while simultaneously burying his head under his pillow to try and block out the bright light streaming in through the windows.
"It's time to get up and stop moping around." Clamoring onto the bed, Phichit laid on his side, facing Yuuri who was still preoccupied with shielding his eyes from the morning sun.
"I'm not moping," came Yuuri's muffled response from beneath his pillow.
"Yuuri, if someone were to look up the definition of the word 'moping', it would be a picture of you." The corners of Phichit's mouth quirked into a small smile when Yuuri pulled his head out from underneath his pillow to glare at him. "Come on, let's go get some breakfast. The first step in getting over a break up is a large stack of pancakes."
"You just want pancakes."
"That's besides the point," countered Phichit. "The point is that you need to stop moping around."
Yuuri sighed and laid his head on his mattress, his face settling in a deceivingly neutral expression. "I'm not really hungry right now."
"But I bet if Victor asked you to go with him you'd jump at the chance."
"After everything that just happened? Fuck him," grumbled Yuuri.
"I think you've already done that," teased Phichit. Yuuri shoved his shoulder weakly in protest before cracking a small smile.
"You're horrible."
"I'm precious and you know it." A beat passed in silence. "You're really torn up about this aren't you?"
Yuuri's smile faltered and he sighed. "I really liked him..."
Biting his lip, Phichit wasn't sure what to do. Guilt had been eating at him for days; he was the cause of his friend's heartbreak, no matter how many times he tried to convince himself that it was for the best. "Listen, Yuuri, I –"
"It's okay." Yuuri cracked a wry smile, the corners of his tired eyes crinkling slightly. "It's for the best, right? Who knows what would have happened if you hadn't figured out that he was a..."
Inhaling, Phichit readied himself to protest, to say that it was all his fault that Yuuri had become a heartbroken wreck, that he was responsible for the tears shed at three in the morning when Yuuri thought he had been asleep. Before he could find the words to express how the guilt of what he had done gnawed at him day and night, Yuuri's phone rang on the bedside table. Phichit noticed how Yuuri's face fell, his eyes focused on his sheets as he visibly tensed at the first notes of his ring tone.
Cautiously, Phichit nodded his head towards the phone. "Aren't you going to answer that? It could be your parents."
Yuuri shook his head, eyebrows knitting together as the last notes of his ring tone faded. "It's not."
"Ah." Dropping his gaze, Phichit ran his fingers along the hem of Yuuri's pillowcase. Silence permeated the room, suffocating him as they both tried avoiding addressing the elephant in the room. Finally, Phichit couldn't take the silence any longer. "How many times has he called?"
Yuuri shrugged, keeping his gaze down at his bed. "I lost count around fifty."
"Shit."
"Yeah..."
Chewing on his lower lip, Phichit contemplated what to do. On one hand, he wanted Yuuri to be happy and if that meant being with Victor then that wasn't his place to say otherwise. But on the other, Victor was a vampire. A blood sucking, life draining creature that lived for all eternity.
But he made Yuuri happy.
After a short internal debate about whether it was the right thing to do or not, Phichit propped himself up and reaching over Yuuri to snatch his phone off of the table. Inputting the unlock code, he set about pulling up the messaging app.
"What are you doing?!" spluttered Yuuri. "Give it back!"
Phichit rolled onto his side, holding the phone out of Yuuri's reach as he hurriedly typed out an outgoing message before hitting send. With a grin, he handed Yuuri his phone back.
"I invited Victor over for dinner tonight. You're cooking, by the way."
Yuuri gaped at him as he clutched his phone to his chest. "You did what?!" He jumped as his phone chimed in his hands.
"Looks like he's accepted, so you'd better go shower," came Phichit's answer, complete with waggling eyebrows and a suggestive wink.
"Why are you suddenly alright with this? With him?"
Phichit's smile faltered, the cheery facade he had attempted to put up fading. "To be honest, I'm not. But I want you to be happy and I can't bear the fact that I'm the reason you're not with him." Scooting closer, he pressed his forehead against Yuuri's. "I won't let anything happen to you, Yuuri. I wasn't kidding when I said I would kill him."
"Phichit..."
"One stake to the heart, that's all it'll take."
"Phichit, I swear to God –" Yuuri sighed exasperatedly before he smiled shyly at his friend. "Thank you."
Grinning back, Phichit felt the ache in his heart ease slightly. "Anytime."
Brows furrowed, Yuuri concentrated on the knife in his hands. The sound of the blade striking the cutting board repeatedly as he haphazardly minced several heads of garlic sounded throughout the apartment. Phichit was sitting in his usual perch by the breakfast bar, legs swinging in the air as he watched Yuuri.
"I know you're making garlic chicken and pasta, but I think you went a bit overboard there," quipped Phichit.
Yuuri shot Phichit a scathing glare as he gestured towards his friend with the knife in his hand. "You're the one who went and invited him over."
"And I'm not the one waving a large knife around at my best friend."
Huffing in agitation, Yuuri placed the knife down on the cutting board before wiping his hands off on his apron. His stomach had long since tied itself in nervous knots, his anxiety simmering just below the surface. Phichit had been a constant presence throughout the day, talking him out of calling the whole thing off, reassuring him that he'd be there the entire time. He had escorted Yuuri to the store, mentioning that according to his research vampires had an aversion to garlic in such an off-handed way Yuuri almost thought it hadn't been intentional.
A knock sounded at the front door, causing Yuuri to jump. His heart hammered wildly in his chest as he gripped the edge of the counter tightly. He could do this. He could invite Victor into his home and hear his side of the story. He could keep a cool head, keep his emotions out of the picture, keep his distance.
Another knock.
He couldn't do this.
"Phichit, I can't do this," he whispered.
In an instant, Phichit was by his side, pushing a glass of amber liquid into his hand with a reassuring smile. "Yes you can. I'm here to back you up, whatever happens."
Downing the contents of the glass in a single gulp, Yuuri focused on the burning of his throat, the warmth spreading through his chest. Setting the glass on the counter, Yuuri gave Phichit a small nod before making his way to the front door. Steeling his resolve, he opened the door and found his gaze immediately drawn to Victor's.
"Hi."
Yuuri was caught off guard by how simply the word was said; it was as if nothing had happened between them. He stared at Victor, unable to move under his piercing gaze but wanting desperately to get back to the safety of Phichit's company. "Hi."
Victor chuckled. "Can I come in?" he prompted, lips quirked in amusement.
"Oh, right!" Yuuri scrambled to step out of the door frame, his cheeks heating in embarrassment. "Come in."
Retreating back into the relative safety of his kitchen, Yuuri cautiously watched Victor from the corner of his eye; the way he methodically shed his jacket before toeing off his shoes and placing them in the shoe rack, as if he had done it a thousand times before. Yuuri tensed as Victor turned towards him. Victor opened his mouth to say something, but stopped as a grimace twisted his face.
"What is that smell?" he asked, as he covered his mouth with his hand.
"Garlic. Didn't Yuuri tell you he was making his famous garlic chicken tonight?" inquired Phichit, a look of pure innocence on his face.
Victor's brow furrowed in confusion as he glanced towards Phichit. "I didn't know he was going to be here as well."
"He's my support system," replied Yuuri coolly.
Phichit gave Yuuri a thumbs up and a wide grin. "You're doing great Yuuri!"
Yuuri absently grabbed the knife off of the counter, resuming his task without a second glance towards Victor. "After everything that happened, I didn't feel..." He trailed off, his motions slowing as he fought back his emotions.
"Safe," supplied Phichit. "He didn't feel safe being around you by himself. I hope that's okay."
"Of course it is," replied Victor smoothly. The tone in which he responded sent shivers down Yuuri's spine; there was no warmth in his words, none of the fondness that he used to imbue his words with. "I hope you'll understand if I don't assist you in the kitchen tonight, Yuuri. I'm not fond of garlic."
Yuuri nodded his head jerkily, refusing to look in his direction. Phichit joined Victor in the living room, Victor sitting as far away from the offending smell as he could. As they chatted, Victor answering the slew of questions Phichit threw at him, Yuuri focused on the cutting board in front of his as his mind ran rampant, thoughts disappearing as soon as they appeared.
Why did Victor agree to come? Did he come because he truly cared for him or because he was trying to secure his next meal?
Bringing his fingers up to the nape of his neck, Yuuri swallowed thickly. Victor had most certainly fed on his blood already, but why didn't he kill him? Isn't that what vampires did to their prey? Or did they just wipe their memories before moving on to their next victim?
He really should have read some of those articles Phichit sent him.
"Yuuuuriii," whined Victor. "Why don't you come here and talk to me?"
Yuuri regarded Victor for a moment; his lips turned down into a pout as he sat beside Phichit. Biting his lip, Yuuri fought the urge to give in and jump into his arms. Ignoring the pit in his stomach, he murmured, "What is there to talk about?"
"Everything. Or nothing. We can talk about whatever you're comfortable with."
Turning his back to Victor, Yuuri preoccupied himself with pulling out a large stock pot and filling it with water. Setting the pot onto their small stove with a little more force than necessary, Yuuri silently seethed.
Victor just had to be so accommodating, never pushing him out of his comfort zone, never being the one to steer the conversation. He was a gentleman through and through and for some reason, that irked Yuuri to no end. How could someone who was perfect in every way be so adept at fooling everyone around him?
Pulling the chicken out of the fridge, he methodically rinsed and patted the meat dry as he tried to reign in his emotions. Transferring the garlic into a small bowl, he wiped down the cutting board before tossing the breast meat onto the surface. His hands shook as he bit back the words begging to break free, the anger and hurt threatening to spill out.
He distantly heard Phichit call his name, concern lacing his voice, but the blood pounding in Yuuri's ears drowned it out. Picking up the knife, he set about butterflying the chicken, concentrating on the task at hand. Picking up the final piece of meat, he exhaled slowly to steady his nerves.
"Yuuri, please," came Victor's voice from across the breakfast bar. "Talk to me."
Glancing up, Yuuri flinched when he saw that Victor was sitting opposite him at the breakfast bar. "Victor, wha-" The words died in his mouth as he hissed in pain, the knife clattering onto the counter top as he instinctively gripped his left thumb tightly.
Phichit dashed into the kitchen, his eyes wide at the sight of blood dripping down Yuuri's hand. Pulling his friend towards the sink, he turned on the water. After a minute spent coaxing a panicked Yuuri to let go of his thumb, Phichit swore when he saw how deep the cut was.
"Shit, I think we need to go to the hospital. That's really deep," murmured Phichit, more to himself than to anyone else.
Grabbing a towel, Phichit wrapped up Yuuri's hand the best he could before instructing Yuuri to hold his hand above his head to help stem the bleeding. Yuuri stood in the middle of the kitchen as Phichit buzzed around him, muttering things to himself as he helped Yuuri slip his shoes on. In his panic, he had forgotten that Victor was there until he heard a sharp inhale.
Lifting his gaze, Yuuri's blood ran cold at the look in Victor's eyes. No longer were they the clear blue he often found himself drowning in; instead they were a deep crimson, his pupils dilated in hunger. Victor himself looked conflicted. Yuuri watched as his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed thickly, his hands clasped tightly together, his back straight as an arrow.
"Yuuri, what are you doing? We need to get you to the –" Phichit paused when he caught sight of Victor, his face paling as the realization of the situation dawned on him. "We need to go. Now."
Despite Phichit tugging on his arm, Yuuri found himself rooted to the spot under Victor's gaze. His breath caught in his throat when Victor slowly rose from his seat, his gaze never leaving Yuuri's.
"Come on, we need to go," urged Phichit, his voice hushed as he put himself in between the two other men.
Victor hesitated near the threshold of the kitchen, his nose wrinkling as the smell of garlic enveloped his senses. Panic spiked in Yuuri, his mouth going dry as he swayed slightly. Victor's brow furrowed, concern marring his features as he forced himself across the room.
"Let me see your hand."
Phichit gripped Yuuri's shoulders tightly. "Don't listen to him Yuuri. We need to get you to the hospital."
"Yuuri," breathed Victor, his voice pleading and wanting all at one. "Let me see your hand."
Before Phichit could protest further, Yuuri hesitantly lowered his arm, extending his hand to Victor. The towel had become stained crimson, the fabric wet with blood; Victor gingerly removed it before tossing it in the sink beside him. Yuuri trembled, his head becoming fuzzy as Victor's fingers brushed against his palm. His throat tightened as Victor brought his nose to Yuuri's wrist, inhaling deeply.
"Victor, I –"
His thoughts skittered to a stop when Victor's eyes opened, his pupils blown wide, warm breath fanning over his bared wrist. Nerves sparked as Victor swept the flat of his tongue up Yuuri's wrist, humming against the skin. Yuuri face flushed hot, feeling dazed as pleasure coursed through his veins causing the pain from his wound to become a mere throb. Victor took his time, laving his wrist and palm with open mouthed kisses and swipes of his tongue, removing any trace of blood in the process. A moan slipped past his lips unbidden when Victor's fang skimmed across his wound.
With a soft hum against the palm of his hand, Victor met Yuuri's inquisitive gaze in a silent request for permission. Swallowing thickly, Yuuri nodded. He gasped as Victor's mouth encompassed his thumb; the throbbing pain vanished, replaced by a pleasurable tingle with the swipe of Victor's tongue. His body trembled as a wave of pleasure washed over him, breaths becoming ragged bursts as he desperately tried to hold onto a thread of his sanity. Victor gripped Yuuri's hip, pulling him close, fingertips digging in hard enough that Yuuri was almost certain he'd find bruises in their place later.
Victor moaned around Yuuri's thumb, the vibrations traveling down Yuuri's spine to the growing heat in his stomach. After what was both an eternity and not nearly long enough, Victor removed Yuuri's thumb from the heat of his mouth, his cheeks flushed. Yuuri barely had time to note the flush on Victor's cheeks before his lips were claimed in a heated kiss. Nips to one another's lips, breaths exchanged like prayers; nothing else mattered as Yuuri desperately clung to the feeling surging through him.
"Mm...Victor," he groaned, lips pressed against the corner of Victor's mouth, hips canting upwards and against Victor's.
A loud throat clearing startled them, dragging Yuuri out of his daze. He and Victor turned towards the direction of the sound and was greeted by the flash of a camera and a wry smile. Yuuri scrambled to distance himself from Victor, unceremoniously shoving the other man away from him as his face burned.
"What the hell are you doing?!" he hissed.
Phichit stared at him like it was the simplest thing in the world. "Taking a photo."
"But why?"
"For posterity's sake," said Phichit as he pocketed his phone before holding up his index finger, brows uncharacteristically furrowed. "One, that was hot as hell. Two, what the fuck was that?! Three, what the fuck you guys?! My non-virgin eyes!"
If Yuuri hadn't been certain that one could not, in fact, die from embarrassment he was sure he would have dropped dead right then and there.
"I healed Yuuri's wound," replied Victor brightly, oblivious to the trembling man discreetly distancing himself. "Vampire saliva has healing properties. Comes in handy when you don't want people knowing that you've fed on them."
Taking a brief reprieve from his existential crisis, Yuuri glanced at his hand in curiosity. The pain had vanished, as did the gaping wound along the side of his thumb. A small, silver scar ran along the length of his thumb in its place.
"That doesn't mean you two need to go full on porno in our living room! At least warn me first!"
"I can't control what effect my blood lust has on others," said Victor, shrugging nonchalantly. "Some people don't react at all."
"Phichit, can we have a minute?" asked Yuuri quietly, interjecting as Phichit stared at Victor in stunned silence. "Alone?"
Phichit's eyes narrowed as he regarded Victor suspiciously. "Yeah, of course. I'll be in my room if you need anything, so just yell."
"I will," promised Yuuri.
"The walls are thin, so it won't take much to get my attention," warned Phichit.
Yuuri nodded in understanding before squeezing Phichit's shoulder, hoping to ease some of his friend's worries with a reassuring smile. As Phichit made his way to his bedroom, a pit formed in his stomach with each beat of his heart. No sooner had the door handle clicked into place did Yuuri find himself swept up into Victor's arms, back pressed flush against Victor's strong chest.
"Yuuri, I'm so glad you're alright," he whispered, nuzzling against Yuuri's neck.
Whirling around in Victor's embrace, Yuuri shoved Victor away. His breaths were labored as adrenaline surged through him. Coupled with his lingering anger, he punched Victor in the shoulder as hard as he could; it felt like punching a brick wall. "What the fuck was that?!"
Victor blinked in surprise, eyes wide. "I healed your wound."
"Thank you, Captain Obvious," retorted Yuuri dryly. "I meant what was all of that...that –" Yuuri resorted to gesturing vaguely, his words failing him.
"You felt it too?" Victor stepped forward, taking Yuuri's hand in his. His expression softened to something akin to fondness, his eyes shining brightly. "Yuuri, I know you're upset – "
Wrenching his hand out of Victor's grasp, he took a step backwards. "Upset isn't the word for it."
"Whichever word you want to use, you know I never meant to hurt you."
Yuuri snorted derisively. "But you did. You lied to me about you, about everything! How do you think I would react when I found out what – who you are?"
Victor's eyes widened and Yuuri could see the hurt flash in his eyes, but he didn't care. He was angry and frustrated and his heart ached every time he looked at Victor's stupidly perfect face in a way that he knew would ruin him.
"After so many years of keeping a secret and lying about who you are, it's hard to finally tell the truth," said Victor quietly. "But I don't want to lie to you – to myself – anymore, Yuuri."
Yuuri regarded Victor silently for a few minutes, trying to gather his thoughts. Victor's expression was more open than he had seen before, the corners of his mouth downturned as he finally let the happy facade that he had held in place for who knows how long fade from his features. Against his better judgment, Yuuri was willing to hedge his bets.
"How will I know you're telling me the truth?" he whispered.
Yuuri's heart leapt into his throat when Victor stepped forward, hesitantly, as if testing the waters. When Yuuri didn't turn and bolt, he reached for Yuuri's hand, fingertips brushing against the back of his hand.
"You'll just have to trust me," he murmured. The air between them was thick, charged with an electricity that thrummed at Yuuri's nerves and did nothing to quiet the anxiety slowly winding its way through his chest. Sensing Yuuri's unease, Victor twined his fingers with Yuuri's before lifting his hand to rest on his chest. "Do you feel that?"
Yuuri's brow furrowed in confusion. "Your heart beat?"
"Vampires aren't supposed to have heart beats unless they find the one they're meant to be with. Soul mates, if you will."
"Soul mates, huh?"
Hooking a finger under Yuuri's chin, Victor tilted his head up until their gazes met. "My heart beats only for you, Yuuri."
Biting his lower lip, Yuuri focused on the slow, methodical beat of Victor's heart beneath his fingers. Uncertainty and doubt resurfaced, leaving Yuuri questioning his feelings. He had been convinced that Victor was only using him for a free meal and hadn't he just fed off of him with the ruse of healing his wound? Blood pounded in his ears as he drew his hand away, fingers grazing the soft fabric of Victor's shirt.
"Victor, I need some time to think about this. About us."
"If this is about me being a vampire –"
"It's not, I mean, it is about that," interjected Yuuri. "It's just that this is a lot to process. You being a vampire. This whole soul mates thing. It's a lot."
Victor's shoulders slumped, disappointment flashing across his face briefly before he smiled softly at Yuuri. "I understand. Take all the time you need and I'll be here when you're ready to talk."
Yuuri silently walked Victor to the door, watching him slip his shoes on and slip his jacket on, tugging at the collar to straighten it. Avoiding his gaze, he opened the door for Victor. He stiffened when Victor leaned down, his lips brushing across his cheek.
"Budu zhdat', moyo solnyshko," he whispered into Yuuri's hair.
Before Yuuri could register what he had said, Victor walked out of the apartment leaving Yuuri with more questions than answers.
Translation notes: Budu zhdat', moyo solnyshka = I'll be waiting, my sunshine
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