M.O.N.E.Y • viktuuri ✔️

48.| concealer

thank you for 3k reads !!

victor's back ached from sleeping in the hard, uncomfortable plastic chair by yuri's bed, and he stretched as soon as his aching blue eyes opened.

at the memory of cradling a motionless yuri katsuki in his arms on jj leroy's hotel bed, his head snapped up from between his hands to the hospital bed he had slept on, bent over the chair so that his head lay on the mattress beside the rise of the sheets over yuri's legs.

but no; he wasn't greeted by the cocoa eyes that victor now longed to see more than ever, but by the sound of yuri's steady breathing, mirroring the monitors beeping by his side, and the slow rise and fall of his chest.

and only now in the daylight pouring in from the window above yuri's bed - and after the concealer yuri must have used had rubbed away - could victor see the dark shadows under his eyes and the pale pallor of his skin from the heroin that jj had been injecting into his bloodstream; victor's hands clenched into fists around handfuls of the hospital sheets yuri lay under, asleep, curled up further on his right side with his soft dark, dark hair falling into his closed eyes.

victor grabbed his hand again; he smiled a little at the warmth he felt under his palm. his yuri was going to be alright.

he's going to be alright.

and only now did victor see the bandages across yuri's forearms, and his heart cracked like glass when he heard phichit's small, anxious talking down the phoneline.

"...ever since that party of your, he hasn't been the same..."

"i-i think he's started cutting again, victor..."

"i read through his texts last week, the texts from you. a-and it seemed as if you loved him, and i was wondering if he had been acting different around you before the party...or...did you both have a fight on friday? is that what this is? v-victor..."

victor could feel the pricks of tears behind his tired blue eyes, and shook his head to get them away; tears wouldn't erase anything. not every fucking word he had said to yuri katsuki.

the sound of yuri sighing in his sleep dragged him away from that darkened guest bedroom and tearful chocolate eyes at the hope of hearing his soft voice once more.

"yuri," victor started off, a lump in his throat, sniffing hard. "yuri? can you hear me?"

but yuri just lay back down on the two white pillows, in a new position, his eyes still closed. victor sighed, and then stood up, smoothing down his creased trousers and bending over yuri to press a kiss on his forehead, as he had done under the blinding lights of the elevator only hours before whilst yuri lay motionless in his arms.

"i'll be right back," victor said aloud, voice hoarse from sleep, "like i said, yuri, i'm not leaving you. again."

he wished that he would hear a soft voice say "i love you" as he stood there by the side of the bed, hand inches away from yuri's but too scared to touch him. he'd hurt him; he'd put yuri katsuki in that hospital bed.

don't be so fucking selfish, nikiforov.
not every is about you.
but, yes.
this is your fault.
are you happy now?