♤ Victuri ~ Limits ♤ ✔ [EDITING]

Chapter 1 ~ The Fall

3rd Person POV
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Yuuri entered the building, he could already feel the anxiety bubbling and rising up in him, practically bursting. This was the building that he was about to perform in, it was going to decide what path he would take, would everything go as planned? Or would it all come crumbling down?

His eyes rapidly darted around, trying to analyse the people he'd soon be competing against. As he was looking around the building his hands started to shake more as he began to realise just how impressive his competition looked. Then out of the corner of his eye a mop of silver hair passed by, immediately recognising the iconic style, his eyes almost reflexively followed the skater he grew up watching and had been admiring his whole life, his inspiration, his crush. Viktor Nikiforov.

He peered over to see the platinum haired male signing autographs for his very excited and squealing fans whilst talking to a very persistent news crew. Remembering he had to skate against the famous world champion, Yuuri felt his stomach twist.

'What was I thinking, there I no way I can win against Viktor.' Yuuri could feel his eyes start to burn with tears 'Come on Yuuri, you can't cry here, not now.' he was so focused on trying not to  cry that he didn't even realise that he was staring right into Viktors icy cerulean eyes until they stared back at him, Viktor flashed Yuuri his signature blinding smile, but his smile soon faltered when he took notice of how sickly and pale Yuuri appeared. But just as quickly as his smile faltered it went back to normal.

Yuuri's cheek slowly transitioned from the usual pale of his skin to what could only be described as firetruck red. He turned as fast as he could manage and sprinted away, all while a certain pair of eyes followed him.

Time Skip

Silence.

All of eyes were concentrated on Yuuri, he felt like a deer in headlights. Helpless. He felt as if there were holes being burnt into him, cooking him alive. He had never been so nervous in all his life. But it was the Grand Prix Final, he couldn't give in to the pressure, he was up against some of the best skaters, the likes of Viktor Nikiforov. He couldn't let them see him mess up, they'd laugh at him and think he was a loser.

Everything had to be perfect if he was going to have the slightest chance of making it on the podium. The music started as Yuuri began his routine.

Ugly
Worthless
Fat
Disgusting

The all too familiar voices were back to torture him. 'Not now'  Yuuri thought, but they wouldn't listen, in fact they got louder and louder in his head, taking control of everything. He could barely hear the music.

Failure
Failure
Failure

That word repeating in his head over and over and over and over again, like a broken record. He couldn't deal with it anymore, he felt his breaths become deeper and more frequent but not due to fatigue. His movements became sloppy, he couldnt think straight. Everything was going wrong.

I knew you would mess up.

It was taking over, he couldn't hear the music at all. He felt the sensation of falling as everything went dark and quiet...

"Yuuri! Yuuri!" A thick russian accent sounded in the distance. The voice held great concern but to Yuuri's ears could only hear a voice full of malice.

Skates against ice. Voices. Lights. People. Talking. He recognised that accent from TV. It was him, Viktor Nikiforov, his idol. Yuuri wanted the world to swallow him.

'Why was he so concerned about me? No. That's dumb, he probably came over to laugh at me and see how truly pathetic I am' Yuuri thought. But little did he know the reason that Viktor wanted to help him.