To Know You [Yuri Plisetsky x Reader]

25

Y/n POV

The rolling boil of my blood reduced to a simmer, and my mouth remained frozen, unable to conjure up anything to say. I couldn't do much apart from stare at Marcella, waiting for her to cut the tension and say she was just joking.

Instead, she made it harder. "No, yeah, he definitely likes you."

I shook my head. "You realise we're talking about Yuri, right? Your friend, Yuri Plisetsky?"

Her expression turned fond and she gave me a warm smile. "Our friend, Yuri Plisetsky. Don't sell yourself short just because you're shy."

"Ha," I returned with a dry chuckle, "I don't think you could pay Yuri to call me his friend. But... no, wait a minute. If he likes me then why would he even mention you? Why bring you up at all?"

"Would you not play the 'asking for a friend' card if he found out you might like him?"

Taken aback, I pulled myself away from the sink and stepped back from her. "I do not like him!" She tilted her head with a knowing smile, and I could feel my expression betraying me. Do I like Yuri? Surely not. All I ever do is complain about him and argue with him. Backtrack for a second... why would Yuri like me? He hates me. He never wants to hang out and whenever we do he never acts like its an enjoyable time on his part. "No, I don't. And surely neither does he. You've never seen the way he interacts with me."

"Maybe not, but how come any time someone comes close to hinting at the idea that you guys are dating, you have the exact same reaction? You both stiffen up, and your eyes do all the talking. Y'all don't even need to say anything because those beautiful little windows lay it all out before you get the chance. And you're even worse about it! At least Yuri can curb his blushing. You get so red so fast, you're not hiding it from anyone."

I hated what she was saying. I hated the idea it might be true. I hated that I could feel the way my skin burned with embarrassment. "I don't... like... Yuri."

Her smile fell, and she squinted at me as her head tilted upwards. "Then what do you plan on doing now that you know he likes you?"

I didn't realise how intimidating Marcella could be. Her blue eyes looked fake, contrasting against the deep brown of her skin. The rims of her glasses reflected the bright light of the bathroom fluorescents. Even the tight curls in her hair seemed to wrap around me, binding me like a thousand snakes keeping me right in front of her sharp gaze. "I..." I tried to begin, all my words leaving me.

"I...?" She encouraged more out of me, her eyes squinting further, boring through me effortlessly.

"I, but I don't know that he likes me! He doesn't act like it! He just gets shocked like that because he's not good with emotions!"

Her eyes released her heavy hold on me, and she let out a quiet sigh. "If he didn't like you, then why would he pretend he likes me, pretend I'm just like you so he could get a read on your preferences? Why would he go through the effort of getting us to meet if he didn't want to make you happy? You said it yourself, he didn't seem to be having a great time on his own, so why bother with all of this?"

I couldn't respond. I hugged myself loosely and looked down at my feet, pursing my lips in hopes that that would rush any reply up to them. I want to believe she's joking, or lying, or something. But she made too much sense. And where does that leave me? I tried to justify the way I've responded any time someone's hinted to me that I might like Yuri. I tried to replace his name with someone else, like Mitsu or Aoi. But I just know that if someone asked if I had feelings for either one of them, well, I'd just laugh it off like Marcella did.