; habromania

yuri plisetsky; the emotion

BEFORE YOU READ:

don't chastise me for making him "ooc", because I didn't. I wanted to write a story around longing, I was trying to capture what he would be like after realizing that he was in love. He's such an interesting character to write for, and one of his key traits is that is feels such intense emotions. He doesn't care for a lot of people, but the people he does, he cares for a ton, so I think that if he ever fell in love, he'd be head over heels, like he wouldn't be able to think straight in their presence at first. Of course, he's still our Yura, so he's a tsundere lil shit, but he'd feel incredibly soft around his significant other, I think.

Longing.

She never missed a competition of his, not if she was deathly sick, not if she had snapped her ankle (which happened once after she had been attempting one of his routines). He had taken it for granted, her diligence, and was finally suffering the consequences of it. She had hit some bad traffic, and would likely miss his routine, and for once, he couldn't pull himself together. She had been an anchor to him, his lighthouse, and like one would take the air they breathe for granted, he didn't realize what he had until he'd lost it.

"What?! You're not going to be here?"

"I'm trying! I can't control tourism! It's not like I want to miss it."

"Haaa? Sure, because that's the truth."

He regretted abruptly hanging up the phone, he regretted blaming her for something she couldn't control, and now his nerves were everywhere, his pulse thumping erratically.

"Yuri. Take deep breathes. It's okay. Be confident in yourself." He didn't want his coaches' petty reassurances, in this moment, he was absolutely sure that all that would soothe his nerves would be her sweet, lulling voice. He hadn't really noticed how relaxing and lovely it was until he didn't have it, and like most things taken for granted, he missed it more than ever. He itched to take out his phone and ring her up one last time for some mild relief, but his pride put up iron walls that were impossible to get past.

Unless you were her.

His heart always whispered the most appalling things, he had figured, and now it was aching in it's cage of bone so much, he found it hard to breathe. The beautiful, elegant tiger hated that her absence was affecting him this much, and in order to keep his head, he swore he would give her hell for making it that way. He'd start by grabbing her collar and staring into her iridescent hues, and then he'd... then he'd-

He couldn't shake the image of her melancholy, ashamed face, and that's when he knew that in that situation, he'd tug her into his arms and hold her like she was going to disappear at any second. God, he despised how weak she'd made him, the only person he'd admit to caring for was his grandfather, not some silly girl who made his heart soar like a fledgling bird just kicked out of the nest. Gripping the edge of the rink, he growled in his throat, his cheeks hot with the realization. 

He was catastrophically in love with her.

And like dark clouds heavy with rain, his emotions tumbled out all at once, but before he could do something about it, the announcer called for him to enter the ice.

Frantically, as if he would die, his alluring turquoise eyes scanned the audience, around him, everywhere, but the one face he yearned for was missing. Kicking the ice, he finally skated to the center, his mind in shambles, so much so, he almost missed the start of the music.

"Russian Yuri Plisetsky, age 17 is making a strong comeback after his stunning senior debut where he dominated the Grand Prix, taking home a shiny gold medal. He is skating to..." The world seemed to collapse around him, and he couldn't remember the last time he had been this panicked during a competition.

All he could think of was her dazzling smile and how he couldn't think straight without it, how her eyes glimmered when he successfully executed a jump, be it a single toe-loop or a quadruple flip, she always was supportive, her cheeks rosy pink with adrenaline. He glided into a spread eagle, suddenly leaping into a triple axel, his landing disappointingly shaky.

Damnit.

"Yura!" The voice was like a melody, and it stood out amongst the screams of support echoing from the audience. She was here, she didn't leave him.

He vowed to not get distracted, but he couldn't stop thinking about all the things he had to say to her. Mind racing, he finished the performance with vigor, pushing his emotions into his now confident routine.

Quadruple Salchow

Triple Toe-Loop

The jump combination was flawless, and he swelled with pride. He would show her his best skating, if not before, then now, when he had missed her presence more than anything.

There she was, like an angel descended from heaven, ephemeral and utterly perfect. The distance between him and her across the ice felt like light years, and he had never felt longing like he did right now. The warmth of her body, the gentleness of her arms were euphoric, and for once after a performance, he felt at peace with the result no matter what the score was.