M.O.N.E.Y • viktuuri ✔️

47.| cafuné

cafuné
(n) running your fingers through the hair someone you love

victor nikiforov had always hated hospitals, although he had never had to see anyone dear to him in a bed all fragile and frail and had never had to watch them slip away. he had always hated the smell of the sterile antiseptic and hand sanitiser, the feel of linoleum under the soles of his shoes and the coldness of the lights overhead. he had been to a hospital more than once before, for skating injuries, the worst being a dislocated knee and fractured femur. but that painful experience, and the others before and after as a result of flubbing a jump in practice on the ice, was not why victor nikiforov hated hospitals.

he just always had.

he also hated sitting by the beside of yuri katsuki, who's body was still motionless and big brown eyes still closed. except now, he was asleep, an victor could comfort himself even a little - get his hands and breath to stop shaking just a little - with the knowledge that tomorrow, he'd hear his angel's soft voice again, and that yuri katsuki would open his eyes once again.

the last time he had seen them was in that guest bedroom in his own house after every fucking word he had said to hurt yuri katsuki.

victor knew that yuri was going to wake up; the doctors had given him naloxone, and his breathing had returned to the steady pace victor had fallen asleep to on his grey sofa that night; that and the scent of bubblegum.

but even though victor knew that yuri was going to be alright, he still couldn't bring himself to let go of his hand, in case his soft skin went cold.

victor was tired; the stress of nearly losing his angel, carrying his motionless body towards a cluster of paramedics and sitting in an ambulance whilst yuri remained motionless had had an affect on him. he couldn't think of sleep; the poor excuse for coffee chris had brought him three times hadn't been of any use, and the bags under his eyes were getting darker.

but he didn't care.

"i told you that you'd be ok, baby," victor murmured, fingers laced around yuri's. "i'm not going to hurt you again, you hear me? i meant that."

victor sighed, and rubbed one hand over his face and silver hair. he hated the voice in his head that was screaming out to him that it was all his fault, because he knew it was true; he had been like a selfish little kid who didn't like it when things didn't go his way, and that made him hurt yuri katsuki.

"you don't know how much you're worth, yuri," victor said, one hand still around yuri's, the other stroking his soft, dark, dark hair. his fingers entwined, he realised that not one of those at everg damn party he went to with his mind set on wasting hours away with coke had appreciated the softness of his hair, let alone how beautiful he was.

he was just there, and they had money to pay him. none of them paid attention to how soft his dark, dark hair was like victor had, running it through his fingers and pushing it away  to look at yuri katsuki's delicate, beautiful, soft face. even the feel of  his hair made victor's heart beat faster beside his hospital bed, against the slow, rhythmic beeping of the monitors around yuri.

"you're worth so much more than every fucking thing i said to you, возлюбленная," victor smiled sadly, and wished once again that yuri would open up his eyes, and smile at him, and forgive him.

victor knew that yuri wouldn't want him to be anywhere near him after he had hurt him like he had done, but he hadn't been able to stop himself from reaching out to touch his angel; the angel his arms had ached for so long to hold again.

"i love you, yuri katsuki," victor whispered against the beeping of the monitors and the sound of rain dripping onto the ground outside from the window. and victor rubbed his tired eyes and laughed at how painfully right the words sounded.

"and it's not guilt or anything, yuri," victor muttered, fingers still running steadily through his soft dark, dark hair. "i'm not saying that i love you because i'm guilty. i think that i love you. and that's crazy, isn't it?"

victor laughed again, and realised that he, the victor nikiforov, was crying once again. silently. yuri stirred in his sleep, and his head tilted a little more to one side so that a strand of hair fell over his left eye. victor brushed it away, and looked at yuri's beautiful, delicate, soft face.

"how many times have i been with you, huh? three? and yet, i can't seem to get you out of my head, yuri. to see jj touching you hurt me, to have hurt you in that bedroom broke my goddamn heart, and to see you in jj's hotel room, motionless, almost killed me."

victor kept on threading his fingers through yuri's hair, and wished that he would open his chocolate eyes right then and there, and that he would give a small smile that revealed a simple on his left cheek.

"i love you, yuri katsuki," victor repeated, before he took away his hand, leaned back in the uncomfortable chair he was sitting in, and had been sitting in for two hours, before he got to his feet and walked across the linoleum - the feel of it making him shiver.

he paused by the door, and turned back to look at his angel lying in the hospital bed, curled slightly on his right side, drip in his hand, monitors beeping and big brown eyes closed.

and victor longed to hear the soft voice yuri katsuki say "i love you too."

get over yourself, nikiforov.
you think he loves you after what you did to him?
selfish.
narcissist.

victor sighed heavily, and went to get more tasteless coffee.