"Yuuri?" Phichit asked, concerned. Yuuri choked back a sob, trying not to break down into tears.
"Do you have Augustus' number?" he asked, struggling to remain in control and doing his best to sound like he was fine.
"Oh, yes! Wait a minute, I have it written in my contact book." Yuuri heard the rustling of papers on Phichit's end of the call. It seemed like this wasn't real life. Like his surroundings were distant. It just couldn't be true. It hadn't fully sunk in yet. That… that… "Ah! Here it is."
"Oh! Wait a second, please." A tear disobeyed his wishes and escaped from his eye. Yuuri brushed it away and scrambled in the side-table's drawer for a scrap of paper and a pen. His heart was racing wildly and his hands were trembling. Phichit read the string of digits, and Yuuri scribbled them down.
"Thank you." The words dropped from Yuuri's lips, but he barely registered that he was the one saying them.
"Are you sure you're alright?" Phichit asked.
"Yes," Yuuri replied weakly, trying his best to sound convincing.
"Alright… Well then, goodbye!"
"Goodbye," Yuuri responded in a strained voice. The very moment the call ended, Yuuri fumbled the receiver back onto the hook and collapsed into a chair. His mind was reeling, and his stomach was queasy. He clutched at his belly, tears spilling over like a glass filled too full. It was his fault. It had been him that Viktor had been looking at at the party. He was the one to blame for Viktor's amputated finger and him being nearly subjected to life in a brothel. His sweet, beautiful Viktor. He removed his steamed-up glasses and set them with a clatter onto the table.
Yuuri wept in a way that made his eyes ache and his chest ache even more. Silent, racking sobs shook his entire body, and his ragged breaths hurt as they were roughly taken in and expelled from his lungs. Snot and salty tears dripped down his face, and his mouth was open and twisted in lamentation. His breaths were too loud in the soundless dining room. They echoed off of the walls and bounced back to Yuuri to remind him anew of the terrible events that he had set into motion.
Suddenly, he felt a light touch against his shoulder. He looked up and saw Viktor bathed in the light from the window, his pure aquamarine eyes glimmering with worry. Yuuri started to crying harder, pitiful sobs squeezing out of his frame in huffs. His sore eyes flitted to Viktor's slender right hand and his missing index finger.
"What's wrong?" Viktor asked timidly, looking at a loss as to what he should do. He tentatively searched Yuuri's eyes, although Yuuri couldn't bare to meet them.
"I-" He tried to breathe regularly, but to no avail. "I-It's m-my fault," he stammered out.
"What is?" Viktor asked, blinking his jewel eyes.
"Your-" Yuuri inhaled shakily. "Your finger." Somehow, saying it out loud made him feel worse. He dared a glance, and caught sight of Viktor's rueful half-smile through the blur of tears.
"It was my fault. It was improper for me to look at a guest so long in that way."
"No!" Yuuri blurted out, louder than he had intended. His eyebrows scrunched up as tears kept flowing down his face. He thought about all of the appalling things that Viktor had endured because of him. The terror he must have felt as his virginity was auctioned off…
"Viktor…" Yuuri whispered. "I am so sorry." His guilt was consuming him like an unextinguishable flame.
"Yuuri." Viktor sounded more serious than ever before. He gently pressed a hand against Yuuri's wet cheek. Yuuri met his eyes, which were concerned and a bit helpless. "I'm not… I'm not sure what to say," he admitted. "But," he added, "If I hadn't been sold to that brothel, then I would not be here. Correct?"
Yuuri nodded.
"So maybe…" Viktor gave a sad smile. "Maybe it ended up being a good thing. Because I can be here with you."
Yuuri drew in a jerky breath.
"I'm glad you're here with me," he said, offering a wavering smile. Viktor rubbed his cheekbone with his thumb. He seemed to realize what he was doing, and his hand fell. Yuuri felt the blood rush to his face, and he wondered if it was even visible under the red splotches he no doubt had acquired from crying.
"Thank you," he murmured, and Viktor dipped his head. Yuuri sniffled and wiped away tears. He still felt that it was his fault, but Viktor's words made him feel a little better. Viktor's line of vision moved over to the side, and Yuuri followed where he was looking.
His gaze landed on the scrap of paper with numbers hastily written on it. An aura of foreboding blanketed the room. Hand trembling slightly, Yuuri reached out and picked up the slip.
(I have more on paper~~ Comments motivate me so much to continue. The arc is beginning its journey)