The relief, though it lowers his shoulder and the press of his mouth, isn't warm or loose. There's a strange prickle of cold sticking inside his heart beats, inside the first breath he pulls in. A splinter of chill at the center of waves that should have been just relief, just gladness. Uncomfortably confusing, and almost disorienting ... and more familiar than he wants to even squint his eyes in the direction of.
It makes him want to push back into the bathroom, and to stand still.
It's easier to just swallow down some of the hot air, sticking on its way down his nose and throat. Swallow. Blink. Breathe in, again. Steel whichever part of him it requires steeling to turn his hand and close it.
(Pretend he doesn't hear the voice whispering
now that he thinks it works is the perfect setup for the next when it won't work at all.)
Yuri knows the door doesn't really make any more sound closing than it did opening it, but it feels more finite amid the complicated layering of thoughts and feelings blowing across his head and chest, and he blinks looking over at Yurio's words. Finding the brief moor of them, before adding to them. "Maybe it is whoever opens it from wherever they came, then."
no subject
The relief, though it lowers his shoulder and the press of his mouth, isn't warm or loose. There's a strange prickle of cold sticking inside his heart beats, inside the first breath he pulls in. A splinter of chill at the center of waves that should have been just relief, just gladness. Uncomfortably confusing, and almost disorienting ... and more familiar than he wants to even squint his eyes in the direction of.
It makes him want to push back into the bathroom, and to stand still.
It's easier to just swallow down some of the hot air, sticking on its way down his nose and throat.
Swallow. Blink. Breathe in, again. Steel whichever part of him it requires steeling to turn his hand and close it.
now that he thinks it works is the perfect setup
for the next when it won't work at all.)
Yuri knows the door doesn't really make any more sound closing than it did opening it, but it feels more finite amid the complicated layering of thoughts and feelings blowing across his head and chest, and he blinks looking over at Yurio's words. Finding the brief moor of them, before adding to them. "Maybe it is whoever opens it from wherever they came, then."