Yuri's expression ices over at that, a sudden frost almost visibly crackling in his eyes. It's a very good cover for the turbulent rush of frustration -- at Katsudon, at himself, at this whole mess -- that's searching for any excuse to sweep his less-than-perfect self-control out from under him and smash it to pieces on the nearest jagged edge.

'You opened the door to get here, right? It's not like when I....' He has to force out a breath before he can complete that thought, shift the weight of it slightly to one side so it doesn't press on the rawest, sorest point inside of him. 'It's not like what happened last time. So it won't be like what happened last time.'

He doesn't give Katsudon a chance to respond to that statement, which already sounds nonsensical in his own ears. Instead, he slides out of his seat, food and chopsticks left behind on the tabletop.

'Get up,' he says, and jerks his head in the direction of the door. 'We're trying it now. You can stay, or go, but we're trying it now.'

(You're coming with me. Right now.)

But this time, he's not going to push and shove. Only Yuuri Katsuki can open that door and make it go where he wants it to go. Because where he wants to go...well, Yuri is pretty fucking sure that it isn't here.