- Ticking - (Otabek x Yurio) (COMPLETED)

{ 8- Dark Water }

His throat felt parched; he wasn't sure if it was from thirst or anxiety. Most likely the fear of rejection, of Calliber not accepting his proposal. He didn't know what she would say-- he hadn't known her for long enough to decide that.

"Hon... are you really, really, really sure? 'Cause, of course I'll help you, but I think you should pursue him. It doesn't matter what the haters think! People who aren't soulmates can still date, and those who say otherwise can suck it." Calliber declares boldly, nodding her head with triumph as she finished off.

A weight was lifted from his shoulders-- quite literally, in fact, because Calliber removed her hands to give him some space. Other than that, there was no weight lifted; the ball was in his court now, and there was added pressure for him to make a decision.

"I want to. I want to get over him." He had taken a moment to speak, hesitant, but had known the outcome all along. That was his mission since the day at the banquet hall: to overcome his crush on Otabek and turn the love platonic.

And he really, sincerely meant it; it would be better for everyone, that much he knew. So much simpler, easier, allowing for them to have a deeper friendship-- one that he didn't have to flinch at any physical contact.

He doubted Otabek would date him if he asked. Not that Beka was a bad person, but because non-soulmate pairs dating was such a stigma, such a wretched idea, that it was rarely talked about. Barely anyone accepted it, much less the chance of someone catching feelings for people outside of their pairing; it was preposterous for Yurio to think anything of the sort. Even on the slight, slim, tiny chance that Otabek liked him back, he wouldn't dare do that to Otabek-- wouldn't put him through the social pressure and stress of being in a 'non-accepted' relationship.

So, he had known it all along. He'd known it, not only since the banquet hall, but since the first day he'd realized he liked Otabek more than a friend. Yet, somehow, he felt disappointed. A piece in the very back of his mind was tingling with sorrow, and he could feel it as if shot in the head; he didn't like it.

That sorrow, that guilt-- the hope that something could stem and grow if he'd chosen a different response, it was numbing and cold. And even though he preferred cold weather, he didn't like this coldness one bit. He pushed it to the back, the farthest back in his mind it would go, and bit his lip with a sinking finality.

"Okay, if you're certain. But let's have fun before we start talking! You know, proper sleepover etiquette is waiting to talk about deep, dark secrets at three a.m. when everyone is such a mess of popcorn and blankets, you can't tell your right from your left. I'll left you off the hook, though." She leaned in, giggling, and Yurio could really smell the coke emitting from her, if he didn't before.

He breathed out a sigh of relief he didn't know he'd been holding in, switching his uptight demeanor to that of relaxation. It was a black-and-white change that seemed as if he'd turned on a light.

"Alright, loser! Let's fucking party!" He smiled, genuinely, and hopped up from the bed, broken-off strands forgotten. The noise in the room seemed much too low now, and before he knew it, his phone was blasting mainstream tunes and he was singing along. Really, truly singing-- it was surely a sight to behold, especially considering that they were skaters, not singers.

Many of his favorite bands came on; of course, most of it was punk rock, suiting the grunge teenager's aesthetic perfectly. He rather enjoyed music, usually having an earbud jammed in his ear at any given point in the day. Often in competition season, he would be listening to music non-stop-- it was a major stress-reliever.

"Yuri! Can I please, with a cherry on top, braid your hair? And do your make-up? Please!" He felt a tug on his arm, causing him to stop dancing-- well, flailing around with a wretched sense of rhythm-- and face Calliber.