Yuuri peeked into his fairy's room to make sure that he was alright. Viktor wasn't on the sofa or the bed, and he wasn't dancing or looking at books or tending to his plants either. Yuuri's eyes were drawn upwards, and he spotted a long, pale limb and tendrils of silver hair hanging over the edge of Viktor's perch.
He couldn't help but smile. He was glad that Viktor liked the perch; he'd been worried at first. It did make him anxious to see him so high up, however. What if he had a nightmare and fell down? He tried not to think about it.
While Viktor had been sleeping more as of late, he seemed quieter than usual. Sadder. Yuuri wished that Viktor would tell him what was wrong. He'd do anything in his power to make him happy. He wanted Viktor to feel more comfortable about having open communication between them, but he knew that they still had a long way to go. Yuuri himself had a hard time expressing his thoughts and feelings properly.
Viktor stretched and and made a yawning sound, and Yuuri froze. His heart beating heavy and fast, and he backed away silently. He didn't want Viktor to realize that he had been being watched. With butterflies fluttering in his stomach and heart rate still elevated, he waited ten seconds and then walked to the doorway again.
"Yuuri!" Viktor called brightly, peeping his head over the edge. A thick sheaf of hair slipped over his shoulder, and he quickly pushed it back. Yuuri was sure that his cheeks were tinged pink.
"Viktor…"
Viktor smiled. "I'm so glad to see you!"
Yuuri laughed. "But you see me all the time."
"I know that." Viktor swung his legs over the side and hopped off of the platform. Yuuri's heart automatically panicked for a second, but Viktor fluttered down safely and alighted on the carpet gracefully. His flowing pink muslin layers floated around him as he descended as if he weighed nothing. He seemed to glow radiantly in the afternoon light, ethereal and impossibly lovely. Yuuri's throat went dry, and he realized his mouth had opened.
Viktor ran a hand through that long, long princess hair, encountering some loose tangles. He gently tapped his left index finger against his lips.
"I forgot to braid my hair before I fell asleep, it seems," he mused absentmindedly.
"Could I brush your hair for you?" Yuuri exclaimed before he could think about what he was saying. Even as the words were tumbling from his lips, he felt blood rush to his face. "Ah- I mean, sorry, never mind," he excused, flustered. He waved his hands nervously. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable or anything, I'm sorry I suggested it," he stammered out.
He dared to meet Viktor's eyes, afraid that he would find him scared or incredulous. Instead, he was met by a slightly amused expression. Viktor hesitated a second, as if thinking over it.
"Alright," he said simply. "As long as you don't pull hard, okay?" He cocked his head and closed his eyes at the last word. Yuuri gulped, heart racing.
Viktor elegantly stepped over to the dresser and picked up his brush. Yuuri followed, heart in his throat and feeling like he was under a trance. Viktor sat down on his canopy bed, legs crossed. Yuuri carefully seated himself behind him, and Viktor slowly pulled his waterfall of silver locks over his shoulder. For a moment Yuuri remembered the last time he'd been on this bed, and blushed.
He folded his wings, and handed Yuuri the brush. Yuuri took it, admiring its silver plating and engraved rose and ivy designs around the edges. On the back was an oval-shaped painting of a forest landscape, with a deer and a river and lush peridot moss.
Yuuri thought about pushing up his sleeves, but then quickly decided not to. Tentatively, he reached out and touched Viktor's hair. It almost didn't seem like this was happening, as if he was in a vivid dream or fantasy. The hair was so, so soft. The bulk of the mane was thick, but the individual strands were incredibly fine. Viktor's hair spilled everywhere, pooling in the space between them and over the thighs of Yuuri's kneeling legs.
There was so much of it; Yuuri gently took a small section in his hand and marvelled silently at its glossiness as he cautiously began to work the bristles of the brush through the ends. There weren't many knots in the first place, and the ones that were there slipped out easily. Yuuri was so captivated by the gossamer tresses that he failed to notice how tensed up Viktor's shoulders were. He felt immediate guilt, and pulled his hands away.
"Viktor? I can… I can stop if you want."
"No, I do." Viktor's muscles relaxed slightly. "I'm simply accustomed to having to be protective of my hair," he explained quietly.
"Oh," Yuuri said, sounding like the epitome of intelligence. His cheeks felt aflame. Clearly this meant something deeply significant to Viktor, and he felt honored to be trusted with the task. As he ran the brush through the shining mass of hair, the bristles slid through like the strands were liquid silver. A gleaming river bathed in moonlight.
As he worked his way higher, the strokes became long, smooth, and continuous. He was extremely careful not to touch Viktor's wings; he didn't want to cause any damage. Viktor tilted his head back as Yuuri tenderly moved the brush over the top of his head. His eyes were closed, and he was nearly purring. He let out a contented sigh, although it carried a note of melancholy and wistfulness.
Because of the hair's length, it was impossible to do one brushstroke from the top to the bottom. It instead took another arm movement to get all the way to the ends, as if Yuuri was combing out a skein of silk. In the silence between them, the only thing to fill it was their steady breathing and the brushstroke, which sounded like wind rustling the leaves of the trees or like waves lapping against the sand.
Yuuri awkwardly scooted back and spread out the hair so that it wasn't folded over itself in any places. Again, he marvelled at the length. The swathes of hair were like a fine argent carpet covering the quilted blanket. Mesmerized, Yuuri sat the brush aside and softly ran his fingers through. He could smell the faint scent of lavender, was that weird of him to notice? His cheeks burned. Oh, he was so strange.
He grasped a handful of hair and slowly let it slip from his hand and fall back into a straight curtain. He was still in disbelief that this was actually happening. He pictured doing this more times than he would ever admit, but nothing came remotely close to the real thing.
"Christophe used to brush and play with my hair…" Viktor said out of the blue, voice quiet and sad. Yuuri's hands stilled, and he racked his brain trying to recall if he'd ever heard Viktor mention a "Christophe" before.
"Christophe?" There was a pregnant pause.
"He was my fellow slave," Viktor elaborated, voice laden with melancholy and woe.
Yuuri's blood ran cold.
"Fellow slave?" he echoed, mind racing. 'Then…' Anxiety constricted in his gut.
"Yes, under Augustus Winthrop." Viktor's voice was trembling. "He was the only reason I kept on living."
Yuuri was frozen in place.
"Is he…?" He couldn't bring himself to ask what he was thinking.
"I pray he's alright. I don't… I don't know." Viktor sounded so broken. He turned to face Yuuri and swallowed delicately. On his features was the same somber, worried expression he'd been wearing so often lately.
Realization dawned on Yuuri that he had been concerned for his friend. It must have been very hard to open up about it.
"Oh Viktor, I wish… I wish you'd told me sooner." The notion that another fairy was living in the same squalor that Viktor had endured was heartbreaking.
Viktor hung his head. He suddenly looked guilty and disappointed in himself, and Yuuri quickly intervened.
"Viktor…" His heart felt like a pillow overstuffed and bursting at the seams with empathy and something else, something deeper than he'd ever really felt before. "It's alright. You didn't do anything wrong. I'll… I'll try to fix this, alright?" He felt determination rising up inside of him. "I'll see if I can find Mr. Winthrop's number." He didn't miss how Viktor shrank back a little when he heard the name.
Yuuri climbed off of the bed then slowly reached out and brushed his knuckles against Viktor's cheek. His fairy's lashes fluttered shut and he closed his eyes. He leaned slightly in to Yuuri's touch.
"Thank you so much, Yuuri."
This warmed Yuuri's core like metal within a forge, glowing bright and malleable. Viktor smiled hopefully, and Yuuri returned it. He prayed that this mission would be successful, but he didn't want to get too optimistic. He silently wished that Viktor's friend was safe, then tenderly tucked a lock of silver hair behind his pointed ear.
"I'll ask around after dinner, alright? I'm going to go and make you something delicious to eat." Before he left the room, Yuuri glanced back a final time to see Viktor surrounded by his own hair and with a grim expression on his face. His lips were pulled into a thin, resolved smile, but it was distant somehow.
It was a poignant image, and stuck with Yuuri all throughout his preparation of dinner.
(Official start of the new arc! Tell me what you thought :) Love you guys.)
