Your blood 》Yuri On Ice

Connecting

Yuri Katsuki

Its been two days since the beach and I'm rather satisfied at how proactive I'm being. Yesterday I got the first drafts of my goodbye letters done (not that Victor knows that) and we watched Shakespeare in love which I must say is a great film with a really hot Shakespeare in it.

The day before yesterday I managed to get Victor and Makkachin to pose for that painting I really wanted to do. I got out my art stuff that's been collecting dust in the storeroom for about a decade and luckily it served me well.

I don't know about my art skills though. Victor said he loves it but my skills have deteriorated since the years I used to paint to ease depression.

Now I've decided it's a good time to contact Mila.

But what do I say?

I pace up and down, repeatedly passing the huge painting Victor insisted to hang in the hallway as I think.

When I finally stop walking I look up to said painting, smiling at the image of Victor sitting in a chair with Makka sat on the floor next to him. I admire Victor for grinning for an entire day, managing to keep Makka from moving too much and not busting his ass from sitting on wood for so long.

He's such a good fiancé.  People should be jealous of me for having him.

I'm sure anybody else would have given up and walked off after three hours.

I'm sure anybody else would have left me by now.

Anyway, Mila.

Taking advantage of Victor being out to get Jewel a phone, I retrieve my own phone and find her number, hoping it hasn't changed since university.

Just call her Yuri. Before you chicken out.

I slam the call button and nervously press the phone to my ear. I still don't know what to say.  We ended on a bad note in Moscow, how do I come back from that?

"Hello?"

Oh my God she answered.

"Hello?" She sounds half asleep. Shit. What time is it in Russia?

"Uh h-hi" The line goes dead for a few seconds and I can't help but think she's hung up at the sound of my voice. She probably hates me.

Why did I think this was a good idea?

"Yuri? Is that you?"

"Hai. I mean yes, yes" I sigh at my stupidity as she chuckles softly, making me feel less ashamed of myself.

"Hey. It's good to hear from you. I keep thinking about calling you but I've been too nervous" Her laugh reflects that. I'm just suprised she's actually wanted to talk to me.

"How are you doing?"

"Well I was a mess, in every sence of the word, and after I sore you in Russia I decided I'm going to clean up my act"

"That's wonderful to hear" I smile and lie on the couch, my back facing the door. Makka wastes no time in trotting up to the sofa, crawling onto me and curling up into a ball on my chest. The dog never fails to make me smile.