a/n: back w an update


"Higher! Higher! No-!" He shouted.

Our of the corner of my eye I saw him throw his hands up then make a frustrated noise.

I did a half turn on the ice and stopped skating, music still playing above me. I stared at him, breathing heavily.

"I'm trying my best." My cheeks were pink from the cardio and cold.

He stopped the music; sighed heavily.

"Yuuri you got to reali-" He stopped himself, "Yuuri you need to really commit to all your stunts."

I stared at him, silent, brows scrunched up.

"Your mind seems elsewhere."

Yes. To commitment issues. Trying not to drop hints or talk about weddings or going to special events with a heavy feeling in my gut. Or just bursting from all the pent-up unsaid feelings.

In the moment, my feelings-where my mind was felt intense and mixed.

I held eye contact with him, his looked tired. Viktor gave another deep sigh.

I took a breath in, I was tired, "Can we be done? I don't think doing more will help today."

"Fine. Sure. Skate a couple laps then stretch. I'll see you at home."

I heard rustling of a bag, a zipper of a jacket. It clicked.

"Wait Viktor-!"

"Yes?" He turned around.

"What-? See me? No ride?" I asked, getting off the ice.

"Work on your cardio." He just said in a small voice.

He started walking away giving me a half wave.

My head jerked back as I had been slapped. What was he to judge? I watched him from a distance, pushing on the doors to the outside, not even looking me in the eyes. I had been putting so many hours of work into my skating.

I said nothing, only knowing that I would stop at a restaurant and store before I went home.

When I knew he wasn't coming back to the echoing room, the only sounds my skates hitting the rink, tears started to spill down my cold cheeks. Why did he have to be like this sometimes?

.

When I was upset these days I ate, slept, or ice-skated. Skating didn't work now; it only reminded me of Viktor's shouting. I couldn't sleep because of my nightmares and well-Viktor was at home. The source of my feelings.

So that left one activity to soothe myself.

I walked to a restaurant I have been to before.

I ordered quickly without glancing at the menu. My usual.

When the server came by I ordered another, my second pork cutlet bowl at the sit down restaurant. I didn't make eye contact. The bowl was quickly made and placed in front of me.

It smelled so good and the server said, "On the house.

A couple of tears slid into my bowl but I wiped them away quickly.

When I was done and full I felt warm, airy, and disgusting from the guilt at the same time. I tipped extra on my table. After the wonderful and horrible meal I felt petty with the "work on my cardio" thing.

When walking inside the apartment, I smelled food.

"Uh- hi my love."

Viktor came to me in the doorway as I took off my shoes and hat.

"Hi." I said coldly.

I started taking off my jacket. Viktor helped me out of the sleeves. I stiffened, almost flinched, remembering what he last said to me.

"I'm really sorry I blew up at you and made you run home." He followed me as I walked to the living room.

"Hello Makkachin." I pet our dog, still not meeting his gaze.

"No- Hey. No. I messed up." He said.

He grabbed my shoulders, making me look into his eyes.

"I was frustrated about the routine not going well. I made the routine too hard. And expecting too much too fast." He was pleading.

I said nothing.

"I am projecting and as a partner I'll stop now. As a coach I might do it time to time, the projection. Please forgive me."

"Okay." I went around him, eyes dropping to the ground.

"That's all? Okay?"

"Yes." I headed in the direction of the bathroom, "You hurt my feelings, I forgive you but I need alone time."

"I have dinner when you come out!"

"Okay, thank you, love you." I said, closing the door shut to the bathroom.

"Love you!" He shouted after me, muffled.

I took off my glasses and put them on the sink. I looked at myself in the mirror, I was blurry but I knew I looked worn out and blotchy. Probably overheating from the eating too.

I touched my face with my left hand, ring finger lingering a little longer.

Was I even ready for marriage if overreacted to something small?