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Viktor's eyes opened, and he looked at his alarm clock.
7:52
He still had a little over an hour before work, and he didn't want to get up just yet. He laid in bed, not moving. It was a Monday.
He hated Mondays.
Viktor's eyelids drooped as he began falling asleep again.
A song started playing, the beat very familiar to the half-asleep Russian.
Viktor opened his eyes again, slightly irritated. He'd be okay, probably.
The Russian forced himself to climb off his comfortable bed, turn off the song on his phone, and step onto the cold floor of his apartment.
Viktor had always felt that it was missing something; he just didn't know what it was. But he hoped that one day, he'd figure it out because as the days went by, he felt more and more empty inside.
"Der'mo, it's too late to make a proper breakfast. I'll just have to eat at the Cafe," Viktor muttered to himself whilst getting dressed. something he did quickly, putting on a white and red sweater and black jeans.
Grabbing his keys, which lay on top of the kitchen counter, Viktor quickly made his way towards the door. As soon as he stepped outside and closed the door, he realised he'd forgotten to put on his shoes.
Upon recognising this, Viktor became totally aware of the fact that he'd done something very stupid and he returned to his apartment to retrieve his footwear with only minor feelings of embarrassment.
When he was finally on his way, he was so distraught by his thoughts that he didn't notice a door opening right in front of him until it hit him squarely in the face, sending him to the ground with a spectacular 'Oof!'.
"Oh my gosh! I-I'm quite sorry. A-are you alright?" asked a panicked voice.
Viktor took an outreached hand, an incredibly soft and delicate one, and managed to stand up. He put a hand on his face, trying to ease the pain from the door hitting him.
"Yeah, I-I'm fine. It's okay. I'm partly at fault as well. Say, you're pretty-looking. Why are you in such a hurry? You're not late to work are you?"
The stranger simply stared at him, completely lost. He opened his mouth to speak.
"Great! I'm on my way to work just now! I work at Yakov and Yuri's Kafe! Where do you work? Oh, wow! You look like you're Japanese. Are you Japanese?" Viktor began spitting out sentence after sentence, question after question, much to the latter's distress
"I love Japanese food! Obviously, I'm not Japanese, though. I'm from Russia, and proud to be, too. Have you had Russian food before? Pirozhki, perha—"
"SHUT UP!"
Viktor shut up, which was a good thing. It was a good thing for the Japanese man in front of him, anyway.
The Russian, who'd been taken aback by the sudden strength in the latter's voice, stood still.
"I have no idea who you are, and you're talking to me as if I'm your friend! You don't even know my name, and yet you're interrogating me! Just calm down!"
Viktor felt a pang of guilt for not taking notice of the stranger's feelings. "Oh...I'm sorry. I get really excited when I meet someone new. I've never seen you around the building before. Are you new here?"
"Viktor Nikiforov, I have been living right next to you the past three years. I work at Yakov's, have the same shift as you, so how on Earth do you not know me?"
Viktor blinked. He rubbed his hands together, embarrassed. The stranger knew his name. He didn't know the stranger's name. "Really? I... I wasn't aware. I suppose it's because I never really took the time to get to know anyone at work. Anyway, don't you think we should get to work? We'll be late if we just stand here and you know Yakov, always getting on us about timeliness and whatnot."
Viktor's new acquaintance gasped, suddenly realising the Russian was right. "Oh! Yeah, I know. I'm Katsuki Yuuri... Or, actually...Yuuri Katsuki. I'm sorry, I've lived here for years and yet I'm not used to American introductory traditions."
Viktor smiled. "It's okay."
Thus, the two began the ten-minute work to Yakov and Yuuri's Kafe. They chatted along the way, though it was mostly Yuuri attempting to answer all the questions the talkative Viktor threw at him.
Yes, he liked Pork Cutlet Bowls, yes he liked Pirozhki, no he had not tried Pork Cutlet pirozhki, yes he was Japanese, no, yes, no, and the like.
Viktor was a talkative, irritating man. That was the impression Yuuri got, anyway.
It wasn't exactly a satisfactory one, not really a good one either, but Yuuri was intrigued by him nonetheless. Even though he so desperately wanted to stitch his mouth shut, Yuuri couldn't exactly bring himself to tell Viktor to stop talking.
There was something about his voice that kept Yuuri from wanting him to stop talking. Maybe it was the way it said 'Yuuri' or the softness with which it spoke of Viktor's favourite things.
Either way, Yuuri knew he could listen to it without fatigue. He loved it.
So maybe Viktor did make a good impression on Yuuri.
