Left Behind

Chapter 7

The clang of dog food hitting metal caused a fluffy head to raise from the couch. Makkachin sat up slowly and yawned stretching his large paws in front of him. He lumbered off the couch and padded towards the kitchen doorway. Viktor placed the food bowl down and the poodle let out a soft bark. He slowly walked over and sniffed the food before taking his time to eat. "You've gotten so old huh?" Viktor pat his head and walked to the sink.

He placed both his hands on the edges of the sink, a sigh escaping him. It had been two days since Irina had left to get back to her own life, promising to check in on them occasionally. Viktor glanced at the bedroom door and started tapping his fingers restlessly on the metallic surface. I know I should give him time... but how much time? When will it be okay for me to see him. Is now okay?  Viktor was torn on these decisions. He had been in the bedroom these past few days a couple of times to leave food for Yuuri, but each time Yuuri had been under the covers and unresponsive.

Viktor wanted to talk to him; He missed his voice. Viktor clenched his hands into fists and pushed away from the sink, stumbling backwards and sinking into one of his kitchen chairs. There was a knock on the door and Viktor rested his arm over his eyes groaning softly.

He pressed both hands onto the table and pushed with all his might to heave himself out of the chair. He hobbled to the door and opened it, not even checking to see who it was.

"Hey. you look awful." The blonde hair of his old rink mate was the first thing Viktor noticed before processing that he had said something.

"Thank you." Viktor said, his mind still not very clear from his previous debate with himself.

"You're so weird." Yuri said as he let himself in, pulling both his boots off and strolling down the hall, making a sharp right into the living room; Viktor following behind. "So is the piglet here?" Yuri asked and sat down on the couch, kicking his legs up onto the coffee table.

"He's in the bedroom." Viktor said, his voice void of any emotion. Yuri scowled and sighed.

"I wouldn't have come over if I knew it was like a morgue here." Yuri pulled his legs up and rested both feet on the ground. "We should get you out of this place."

"But Yuuri is-"

"No. C'mon you just need a breather. You'll go crazy if you stay here much longer." Viktor stayed quiet, unable to argue with him. Yuri pulled Viktor to the door and helped him with his shoes and coat. They left leaving the hallway dark and quiet like the rest of the apartment.

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What time is it... is it dark? It looks dark... or are my eyes closed?.. Yuuri blinked. My eyes are open... the room is dark. Yuuri sat up slowly and put his hands on his lap. He glanced down at them and began to open and close them.

Am I doing this? Are these my hands? Yuuri thought as he lifted his arms slowly then let them fall back down to his lap. Yuuri pushed the sheets he had been under off him and looked at his legs. He lifted one, then the other. Are these mine? He bent his knee, then the other, eventually letting both his legs lie flat.

He turned his body so that both his legs were hanging over the side of the bed. He looked down at them and squinted. He pushed himself up with both hands and stumbled forward a bit. I stood up.

Yuuri took a couple unsteady steps forward towards the door. He reached a shaky hand out as he made it to the door. His hand brushed the cold doorknob and he hesitated before grabbing it gently. He opened the door and stepped through the frame. The room before him was dark, a small buzz in the silence caught his attention and he glanced to the TV. It wasn't on, but a noise still seemed to be emitting from it. He carefully made his way over to the TV and looked down at it, his eyes adjusting to the dark as he did so. He took a step back and glanced behind him.