- Ticking - (Otabek x Yurio) (COMPLETED)

{ 18- personalized }

"Earth to Yuri. Yuri." He heard his name being called, every syllable growing more impatient as the speaker began to add in a barrage of impending finger-tapping. The owner of the voice wasn't hard to figure out; weeks of being around the shrill noise had made him ultra-aware of its presence. Over all the commotion going around him, it jutted out like a knife, whether that knife be lodged in his stomach or not.

People were complicated, that much he knew. They acted as if death was welcomed: driving without a seatbelt was 'brave', chugging a gallon of milk was 'amazing', bungee-jumping, finger guns-- maybe it was hypocritical. He had done those things, no doubt in his mind, but the knife bothered him despite his past experiences, and he didn't like it. The protruding weapon was a nuisance-- to say the least-- and he just wanted Otabek to appear now, the same that he'd wanted for the past half-hour.

She wasn't being particularly annoying in that moment; it was more complex than pure aggravation. She was his friend, yes, but-- wait, no, that analogy wouldn't fit, for Otabek was not his soulmate either. Then was he really a better match than if he had chosen to love Calliber? If both weren't meant for him, then was either really...?

He steadied his breath, careful to keep his emotions underneath his visage and tucked away, marinating in his turbulence.

Maybe neither were his exact match, but favorability was still a factor; basic knowledge showed that some people were more magnetic than others. Yurio only needed to calm down now, resonate his decision within him and quit with his indecisiveness. He was the embodiment of trepidation: sweaty hands; sunken, sleep-deprived eyes; hair so carelessly hanging in front of his face, the world was nearly indiscernable. But then, suddenly, it wasn't; his hair was tucked back behind his ear, the perpetrator's hand sneaking back to the owner. He whipped around, visibly sighing at who he saw: Calliber. Just Calliber, her cheery cheeks and freckles so heavily scattered towards the right they seemed painted on greeting him warmly.

"From my oyster to your clam, you'd better check on your lovely Beka babe. Or not. Or yes. Yes, no, yes, no, either one will do-- did I mention we've been here an hour and a half? We've been here an hour and a half. There you go! Well, not literally. But you should. Or not. Ha!" She heartily smiled and waved a fork at him as if a conductor. However, Yurio was slowly inching towards the stage exit of her close-knit orchestra.

"Go right now, as in now-now? O... kay."

"Ya ain't seem so sure, hon."

"I don't know, I guess I just forgot to read the reviews before purchasing. I'd pined for so long, wanted this while I couldn't have it because of the credit card debt I'd wracked up; my credit score is bad, it's really bad, and I'm not financially stable. I should return this. right? Even if I can't get my payment back, trying is... well. Well." He looked at Calliber's eyes, then the ceiling; eyes, ceiling, eyes, ceiling, until it was all a blur that blended to a slate gray.

Calliber smoothly smiled, offering her pinky to him, "Not all banks are out to get you. Take a loan, take a chance, take a! Take a! T-t-t-take, ooh, I'm making my own song here!"

Yurio hesitantly nodded, wrapping his pinky around hers and giving a firm shake. Calliber waited an extra beat to let go, keeping his promise right between them. After she let go, her usual demeanor was back, fake tears included.

"Oh, my young 'un is all grown up! No, these aren't tears. Nope. No sir, my eyes are just leaky." She sniffed with an unbelievable amount of drama embedded in a mere gesture, fork dipping so low it was nearly touching the table.

"Better go before the sky turns into a shitstorm like the fucking weathermen pre--"

"No! No! My virgin ears, you monster! This is what happens when your babe ain't around. Gah. Gah, gah, ooh la la! I'm French now? Hon hon hon croissant! Now bonjour your way to your destiny, hon." Calliber gave him a tilted smile that nearly resembled a smirk and motioned-- with her fork, naturally-- towards the door.