- Ticking - (Otabek x Yurio) (COMPLETED)

{ 16- Food Chain }

Even while in the highest state if angst he'd been in recently-- well, rather his whole life-- Yurio's mind still went against him. At sporadic intervals during his fury-fueled storm to his hotel room, he could almost hear footsteps following him, whispers of his name.

Almost. He could almost hear it, except for the fact that there was nothing else; only Yurio walked the hallways, him and his mind with a dark sense of humor. Deep down, he knew he couldn't blame it on his mind, for his mind was him, but what else to blame it on? Surely not himself, for he couldn't accept it for anything else that he hoped someone in particular would be chasing after him.

It wouldn't be that easy, though. Yurio wasn't the type of person to forgive-and-forget, and he felt even more wronged right now than when his grandfather had died. Even if Otabek chasing after him was a secret fantasy, it wouldn't end as such a daydream that all fantasies did.

No, it would end in even more tears and shouts than had just occured; Yurio wasn't ready to forgive. He didn't think he ever would, but that wasn't the point-- that was just his hormones feeling betrayed. The innermost reason was him needing time to cool down, to not just think things over but to be away.

Never in his life had overexposure been a good thing. Instead, he worked best when given small doses of it, pacing his sanity each day, each hour, each minute. Facing his situation so soon would only harm him in the long run, and Yurio was well aware of that fact.

His steps were rhythmic as he approached his room, having traversed that section of the building many times. Without any thought put into it, his hand slid the key into the lock and brought his reign of malicious vibes into the small place he currently called home. Yurio walked to the bed, then stopped. He paced over to the balcony doors before pausing once more, frowning as he did so. Neither felt right, like an itch at the back of his throat that wouldn't go away. Yurio stomped back to the middle of the room and cleared his throat, trying to sort out what he needed.

"Yuri. This is Otabek. Please let me talk to you." The one person he didn't want to speak to was apparently outside his door-- Yurio was not pleased. He pursed his lips and cursed out the man just quiet enough to not be heard, attempting to keep the situation tame.

"Leave, fucker." Oh, well-- his previous endeavor was good while it lasted. For Yurio, his sour mouth would always prevail, whether a blessing or curse.

There was a moment of peace in their argument as Otabek sighed, a loud clunk emitting from the door as he most likely leaned his head against it. Yurio grabbed the remote, not disgusted by the idea of driving Otabek away by blasting it on full volume.

"This is a misunderstanding. I wouldn't do anything to hurt you, I promise. I know you're upset, and I'm sorry. Just please hear me out."

Yurio grimaced, finger hovering over the power button. He didn't like the words he was hearing; he'd encountered enough lies that day, and wasn't keen on letting any others form. Otabek did make a lovely case, and he dearly wanted to say yes, but... he couldn't. Not right then, not after all he had been through to purge himself of any feelings above friendship; giving another chance would be more like suicide to him. Maybe later, when the waters had cleared, he could go back.

But not now, not when it was too foggy to see even the black storm clouds above.

"Remember w-when I was sick and you said if I left practice you'd do a-anything for me?" Yurio turned his gaze to the ceiling, away from all temptation behind the door.

"Not right now. I can't do that."

"Oh? Fucking goody, there's another thing you told me that is fake! Liar, liar, liar, lia--"