He's there, and gone, sliding off across the ice, and Victor can't quite tell, but he thinks there's might be a flush of pink staining Yuri's cheeks.

It might just be the lighting.

What is certain is that Yuri looks motivated, focused, ready to go, and when the music begins –– that sultry tangle of strummed strings –– he moves with it like he owns it. (Like he's creating it.)

The pose and popped head aren't directed at Victor, this time (Victor, currently trying to swallow hard against the knot of his tie, wondering if it was this tight before). They get tossed with a flirtatious blown kiss at the panel of judges, and Victor almost laughs out loud and claps with sheer delight, because this is what Eros was always supposed to be. The playboy, blowing into town, stealing hearts left and right.

The audience is getting into it too, as the music picks up and Yuri swings into his step sequence, twisting and twirling around the ice like a licking flame. For all he'd been worried about the Russian audience, he seems more confident than ever: maybe he feels more motivated away from home, away from the pressures of performing under the eye of his hometown fans.

Victor's not sure, but either way, he's in his best form yet.