Yuuri placed an arm on Viktor's back and one behind his knees, then hoisted him up like a bride. Viktor instinctively wrapped his arms around Yuuri's neck. He was so much taller than him that he felt like a spindly sapling in Yuuri's strong hold.

Determined, Yuuri marched across the room. Viktor could feel his muscles tighten against his skin and shivered. Absentmindedly, he began to play with the soft strands of hair at Yuuri's nape. It was so strange and foreign to run his fingers through such comparatively short hair. The locks just- abruptly ended instead of flowing past the reach of one's outstretched arm.

It was rather like the way that one could run towards a stream, hear the sounds of splashing and tumbling water as you approached, know that it was coming, and then still be taken by surprise at the last second and trip over the bluff and into the brook. Viktor knew that it was a rather silly metaphor, but that's what it felt like to him.

The shortness of Yuuri's hair was utterly fascinating to him, and touching it offered some refuge from the horrible feeling threatening to engulf him.

They reached Viktor's room, and Yuuri carried him over to the couch. He lowered Viktor down so, so gently, as if he was the most precious thing in the world. The thought was probably inaccurate, but Viktor allowed himself to dream. Yuuri fetched one of Viktor's pillows and a blanket, then nestled them over his long legs.

"I'll go and get some tea," Yuuri said. He walked to the door, but gave a concerned glance back at Viktor before disappearing as he turned. Viktor folded up his knees and pulled the quilt over them, then leaned back and looked up at the sky. It was touched with golden streaks, like a painter had brushed on strokes of shimmering paint. The beautiful light bathed the room in gold, as if Midas himself had ran his fingers over every object. The color of sunflowers and jewelry and bells…

Wherever Chris was, Viktor hoped that he could see the sky too. Staring up at that great expanse above him made him feel incredibly small. He was just a miniscule part of an eternal universe.

Viktor heard Yuuri's footsteps approaching, and his heart leapt. It really needed to stop doing that. It felt like he had flown back to reality from another plane of thought. It was like settling back into a bed that was still warm and cozy. He could fixate his thoughts on the infinite nature of everything and how microscopic he was in comparison, or he could return to the here and now, where Yuuri was bearing a tray on which were two filled teacups and saucers, as well as slices of fluffy sweet bread.

Yuuri placed the platter onto the coffee table, then carefully seated himself at Viktor's side and took his teacup and saucer. Viktor stretched out his hand towards the remaining cup. It was a lighter color from the ridiculous amount of added sugar and milk.

"Thank you," he told Yuuri quietly. Yuuri was so thoughtful and kind… He knew and remembered how Viktor preferred his tea, and was willing to stay with Viktor to make him feel better.

"Of course," Yuuri replied in a soft voice. His eyes were brimming with sadness and caring. Viktor knew that he still blamed himself for his misfortune, although Viktor thought that it was clear that he was at fault, not his benevolent… He thought "master" at first, but then mentally corrected himself. What was Yuuri to him? He couldn't quite describe it. A friend? To Viktor, he was that, but so much more as well.

The pair of them sipped tea in silence, watching the light fading from the heavens and withdrawing caused the shadows to begin to creep and swallow up the room. Yuuri abruptly stood and walked over to the bedstand, extracting a box of matches from one of the drawers. He moved to the gas lamp on the wall and lit it.

There was a flicker, and the room was illuminated in a warm, gentle light. Yuuri returned, holding one of Viktor's books that he had picked up on his journey back to the sofa. Viktor pouted playfully.

"I missed you." He had meant to be teasing, but there was truth behind it. It didn't come from his lips with as light a tone as he would have liked. He was still shaken about the news pertaining to Chris. Yuuri sat down next to him, and Viktor was glad that he was close again.

"You keep saying that, but I'm never gone that long."

"I know." Viktor smiled softly, although his heart felt laden with lead. Chris had always been flirtatious, mischievous. It felt wrong to be having a lighthearted banter with Yuuri when Chris was still somewhere out there.

"We'll find him," Yuuri assured, seemingly reading Viktor's face. He placed his hand on his shoulder. Viktor nodded slowly, and turned his attention to the book to try and distract himself. He tilted his head to one side.

"I thought-" Yuuri began sheepishly. "I thought maybe I could read you a story." Viktor's heart welled up with gratitude and that emotion that he hadn't dared to label yet. "Sorry, it was probably a silly idea." Yuuri laughed nervously. "Would you like that?"

"Yes," Viktor whispered. "Very much."

Yuuri asked Viktor to pick a story, and so he selected one with an illustration of beautiful women dancing together. He had often admired the art, but never knew the context of the story it belonged to. The laughing, twirling maidens reminded him of what he'd imagined ballet to be like, with dancers gliding over the stage like snowflakes.

"The Shoes That Were Danced to Pieces," Yuuri read, adjusting his spectacles (he must have grabbed them when he made the tea). Viktor stared at the book in wonder, eyes wide and soul enraptured by how the symbols on the page could transform into the words that flowed from Yuuri's lips in a steady stream. The words formed sentences that integrated into a story in the way that a loom weaves threads into an exquisite tapestry.

Yuuri told of twelve sisters that were princesses. Their father, the king, locked them up every night. Viktor felt sorry for the poor girls; he knew what it was like to be trapped behind a bolted door, trapped down in the dark… He shivered. Chris all alone stuck in some mildewing dungeon, black as night. No matter what he did, it seemed that his thoughts rotated back to his dear friend. He drew his attention back to the story instead.

The princesses' dancing shoes kept being worn out somehow by the morning, although they couldn't leave their shared room. Viktor wondered how this could be possible. Perhaps they snuck out of the window, with sheets tied together? Yuuri continued, telling that the king decreed that anyone who could solve the mystery could marry one of his twelve daughters and reign as king.

"But whoever should attempt to do it, and after three nights and days fail, must lose his life."

Viktor gasped, wrapped up in the story. Lose his life? He'd become aware that he'd moved closer to Yuuri, but did not back away. He watched Yuuri's lips as he spoke, transfixed by them. Each word was a pearl of information tumbling down, full of luster. He clung to each one, holding his breath at times.