Teach Me ⚣ Victuri

•Steal My Heart Why Don't You•

Yuri's Point Of View

Victor's Apartment
8:30 p.m.

Cold air was pressing against my face and eyelids while the sky outside fell in hues of navy.

Bright European stars lighting it up through those clear windows.

I pulled the grey bedsheets over me instantly, my body shivering from Victor's preferred temperature setting.

Falling in love with a Russian had its pros and cons.

One con being that they wanted it just as cold on the inside as it was on the outside.

Survival was crucial in a relationship like this.

I listened to the sounds of the Kardashian's voices echo through the room as the harsh screech of Victor's hair dryer rang in my ears.

Why couldn't he just let his hair air dry like everyone else?

Oh, that's right.

He was high maintenance.

I found myself losing interest in the tv screen as I rolled over to find something that always caught my interest.

God, I was so lucky.

He was shining in the warm, bathroom lighting as the shower water on his skin glistened, making him out to be the God that I truly believed he was.

A towel wrapped around him and his bare feet on the white tile, while his immaculate torso and v-line smacked a blush on my face.

And his hair was light and fluffy as he ran his fingers through it, the hair dryer seeming to do a successful job.

How he could still have this effect on me was a mystery.

It was a deep mystery.

I just wanted to run my hands through his platinum hair for hours on end, while his eyes...........

I'm such a mess.

I had been staring at him all night.

Hell, I'd been so invested in him ever since that day down at the rink.

For more than just the reason of him being the most beautiful specimen that has ever set foot on this unworthy earth.

I had been staring at him so I could figure him out.

Figure out what I hadn't been told, what I hadn't picked up on........

I held countless conversations on the top of my tongue and I could not find the courage to let them go.

Let them off my chest.

I didn't know if he wanted me to ask him the questions I had, begging to be said.

I didn't know if he wanted to talk to me about them either.

I just.......didn't know.

Victor was at times so easy to read for me, so easy to figure out........

So attainable.

Other times, he was miles away.

Out of my reach and out of my comfort zone.

Completely leaving me confused.

My whole being was constantly aching for the chance to get that much closer to the mystery that was Victor Nikiforov.

I needed to talk to him.

I needed him to tell me everything.

To tell me everything that my dad had touched upon.