It's not even sharp, that order, but Victor stills into silence like he's been smacked, head tipping towards the teacup in his lap just enough so his eyes are shaded by the fine silver fall of his bangs, his light chatter gone as if he'd swallowed it, or like he'd been playing some recording that was suddenly cut off, and he remains silent as Yuri keeps going, the only indication he even hears those words the way his shoulders tighten, and then fall.
If Yuri's not doing well, he is a disaster equivalent to at least the Hindenburg, floating blithely along before suddenly bursting into flame and ruin when he least expects it. Case in point: he doesn't even know what to do or say to improve this situation. He'd thoughtlessly suggested a date, Yuri had panicked and slid into a fumble of words in Japanese, and all but threw up a stop light in his face, but now he's ... what is this, annoyed? Angry? Exasperated? When Victor tries to make it better.
So what can he do? Is there anything, that isn't taking the coward's way out and simply tossing himself out the window?
The tip of one index finger rubbing along the edge of the teacup in an idle tic. "You're doing fine."
It's not a lie: Yuri may be confusing him, and this may not be going exactly how he thought it would, but that's his fault, not Yuri's, and his shoulders lift again, abortively. "You don't have to apologize for not wanting something."
Him. Right? Is that what he's saying? It has to be, if he's going to do his absolute best. And if he's going to face that, well, then, he should face it looking Yuri in the eye, too, shouldn't he? Even if it feels like lifting a reluctant weight, even if he's nervous about what he might see there. That tip of his index finger shifting from a rub to a tap-tap-tap-tap he doesn't even notice is happening, and a wry puff of breath from his nose. "You looked horrified at the very thought."
Horrified, startled, surprised into flustered Japanese. None of that looking anything like Yuri thought it would be a good idea, the memory of it, perfectly fresh from only a few moments ago, cramping his stomach painfully. "Should I keep pushing for something you don't like or want? I'm just trying to ..."
It's all escaping him, when with anyone else, he'd be throwing his most charming apologies and winning smiles their way, but Yuri's nearly glaring, and he mostly just feels uncertain. "... not make you so uncomfortable."
It's not a thought he can really handle. Yuri uncomfortable with him. Yuri afraid of him, like he said he wasn't. Yuri looking pale and terrified at even the thought of an innocent outing, doing something they both love, coincidentally in public. "It's my mistake, Yuri, not yours."
Which may be the only thing he feels really clear on, in this precise moment, but that does at least settle his shoulders a little more firmly, even if his finger is still tapping at the teacup.
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Date: 2017-04-20 04:57 am (UTC)If Yuri's not doing well, he is a disaster equivalent to at least the Hindenburg, floating blithely along before suddenly bursting into flame and ruin when he least expects it. Case in point: he doesn't even know what to do or say to improve this situation. He'd thoughtlessly suggested a date, Yuri had panicked and slid into a fumble of words in Japanese, and all but threw up a stop light in his face, but now he's ... what is this, annoyed? Angry? Exasperated? When Victor tries to make it better.
So what can he do? Is there anything, that isn't taking the coward's way out and simply tossing himself out the window?
The tip of one index finger rubbing along the edge of the teacup in an idle tic. "You're doing fine."
It's not a lie: Yuri may be confusing him, and this may not be going exactly how he thought it would, but that's his fault, not Yuri's, and his shoulders lift again, abortively. "You don't have to apologize for not wanting something."
Him. Right? Is that what he's saying? It has to be, if he's going to do his absolute best. And if he's going to face that, well, then, he should face it looking Yuri in the eye, too, shouldn't he? Even if it feels like lifting a reluctant weight, even if he's nervous about what he might see there. That tip of his index finger shifting from a rub to a tap-tap-tap-tap he doesn't even notice is happening, and a wry puff of breath from his nose. "You looked horrified at the very thought."
Horrified, startled, surprised into flustered Japanese. None of that looking anything like Yuri thought it would be a good idea, the memory of it, perfectly fresh from only a few moments ago, cramping his stomach painfully. "Should I keep pushing for something you don't like or want? I'm just trying to ..."
It's all escaping him, when with anyone else, he'd be throwing his most charming apologies and winning smiles their way, but Yuri's nearly glaring, and he mostly just feels uncertain. "... not make you so uncomfortable."
It's not a thought he can really handle. Yuri uncomfortable with him. Yuri afraid of him, like he said he wasn't. Yuri looking pale and terrified at even the thought of an innocent outing, doing something they both love, coincidentally in public. "It's my mistake, Yuri, not yours."
Which may be the only thing he feels really clear on, in this precise moment, but that does at least settle his shoulders a little more firmly, even if his finger is still tapping at the teacup.