Dismissals are easy, in almost any flavor. Even when they hurt, Yuri knows them. They have a particular flavor and feeling, and he can just wander off, and, well, he'd been mostly certain that was where everything was going with Yurio saying thank you here at the door. Even if Yuri had closed the door intending to keep his word.
Dinner would keep, the same way his family would keep, and Victor would ...
Except put that way, it felt too weird. For Victor. A complicated knot of longing.
(Not to be confused with the complicated knot that reminded him 'keeping Victor' was not something he got much longer.)
Stealing minutes from the end of time didn't change the timer. Not if Victor wasn't in them, too. It's a confused feeling. Whatever else goes with it in conjunction, it was confusing. An ache that pressed down on his ribs, making him realize as he was focusing, that Yurio had his hands up and was talking about -- it took a second, and scrunch of his forehead. Oh, noodles.
Yuri nodded, again. Seemingly unable not to. "Mostly."
It's an odd place to stand, but then so was no being certain if he was supposed to stay or leave now.
"You have to be--" What was the word though even when the thought was contradicting and the only thing he could think, which meant it just went falling out of his mouth instead of staying to be labeled with any more helpful terms. "It can be more complicated, because the noodles are slippery than the rice and won't stick to each other, so you have to hold the chopsticks tighter. But not too tight, because they can be thinner and softer and ended up breaking apart between the chopsticks with too much pressure, too."
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Dismissals are easy, in almost any flavor. Even when they hurt, Yuri knows them. They have a particular flavor and feeling, and he can just wander off, and, well, he'd been mostly certain that was where everything was going with Yurio saying thank you here at the door. Even if Yuri had closed the door intending to keep his word.
Dinner would keep, the same way his family would keep, and Victor would ...
For Victor. A complicated knot of longing.
(Not to be confused with the complicated knot
that reminded him 'keeping Victor' was
not something he got much longer.)
Stealing minutes from the end of time didn't change the timer. Not if Victor wasn't in them, too. It's a confused feeling. Whatever else goes with it in conjunction, it was confusing. An ache that pressed down on his ribs, making him realize as he was focusing, that Yurio had his hands up and was talking about -- it took a second, and scrunch of his forehead. Oh, noodles.
Yuri nodded, again. Seemingly unable not to. "Mostly."
It's an odd place to stand, but then so was no being certain if he was supposed to stay or leave now.
"You have to be--" What was the word though even when the thought was contradicting and the only thing he could think, which meant it just went falling out of his mouth instead of staying to be labeled with any more helpful terms. "It can be more complicated, because the noodles are slippery than the rice and won't stick to each other, so you have to hold the chopsticks tighter. But not too tight, because they can be thinner and softer and ended up breaking apart between the chopsticks with too much pressure, too."