Well, whatever solid ground he'd finally felt he'd stepped onto turns out only to be quicksand again, as Yuri shouts at him that he knows, like it's so obvious even a child wouldn't need it told to them, but if he's worried about it –– ?
None of this is anything Victor understands or knows how to stop, and the tears streaming down Yuri's face are only making him more uncomfortable, left-footed in a way he hasn't felt since he was a tiny thing just learning how to stay upright on the ice. Yakov was right about one thing: he's never had to worry about anyone's feelings but his own, before, and his have always been as clear to him as running water. Yuri's, though: they keep shifting, clouds to sun to storm to impenetrable fog, and he's never quite sure of the right thing to do or say.
Which is why he turns away, a little, just to rub at his forehead and prop his hand on his hip, frustrated. "I'm not good with people crying in front of me." This is a problem he doesn't know how to fix, because he's not sure there is one, a solution that will set things right. It's not a question of teaching Yuri where to shift his weight to make his landings as strong as his take-offs, or promising not to go and having Yuri believe him. Yuri knows all that, and it isn't helping.
So if he can't fix it –– and make Yuri stop leaking in this deeply unsettling way –– what can he do? Wracking his brain for similar situations and their subsequent solutions unearths nothing of use. It's not like Yakov had ever done much for a sobbing skater other than hand them a tissue and tell them not to dehydrate themselves.
The closest he's ever even come to this situation was a handful of moments at the end of short-lived but intense relationships, and even then, he'd never known what to do, so he'd just kiss them or embrace them and assure them he cared, and go on his way. "I don't know what to do. Should I just kiss you, or something?"
Would that help? It's really the only option left in his arsenal, which he's now realizing is woefully thin on the ground.
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Date: 2017-04-09 01:41 pm (UTC)None of this is anything Victor understands or knows how to stop, and the tears streaming down Yuri's face are only making him more uncomfortable, left-footed in a way he hasn't felt since he was a tiny thing just learning how to stay upright on the ice. Yakov was right about one thing: he's never had to worry about anyone's feelings but his own, before, and his have always been as clear to him as running water. Yuri's, though: they keep shifting, clouds to sun to storm to impenetrable fog, and he's never quite sure of the right thing to do or say.
Which is why he turns away, a little, just to rub at his forehead and prop his hand on his hip, frustrated. "I'm not good with people crying in front of me." This is a problem he doesn't know how to fix, because he's not sure there is one, a solution that will set things right. It's not a question of teaching Yuri where to shift his weight to make his landings as strong as his take-offs, or promising not to go and having Yuri believe him. Yuri knows all that, and it isn't helping.
So if he can't fix it –– and make Yuri stop leaking in this deeply unsettling way –– what can he do? Wracking his brain for similar situations and their subsequent solutions unearths nothing of use. It's not like Yakov had ever done much for a sobbing skater other than hand them a tissue and tell them not to dehydrate themselves.
The closest he's ever even come to this situation was a handful of moments at the end of short-lived but intense relationships, and even then, he'd never known what to do, so he'd just kiss them or embrace them and assure them he cared, and go on his way. "I don't know what to do. Should I just kiss you, or something?"
Would that help? It's really the only option left in his arsenal, which he's now realizing is woefully thin on the ground.