He didn't see the signs.
He was too ignorant, too confident in himself to even know what they truly were. He trusted that his presence would be enough. That's what he'd been told, everyone said that just his presence would do wonders. "You're his hero, he'll be thrilled," they said to him, words that were simply expected. He was a world-renowned gold medalist. Of course he was this figure skater's hero.
They'd been wrong. If their words had been true, he wouldn't be standing here.
Viktor stared emotionlessly down at the headstone, wondering where exactly he went wrong or whether he'd ever had it right.
He refused to let the tears collecting in his eyes fall as he thought of the precious soul he'd stupidly and quickly fallen in love with. He had thought that Yuuri would be happy, that he could bring to light the talent Yuuri couldn't see in himself. Viktor had been determined to save him.
"I am so sorry." He whispered. "I thought I was helping you."
It was obvious now. All he had done was further convince Yuuri that he wasn't worthy, hadn't he? Yuuri watched him and took his words of praise as pity rather than honest feedback. Yuuri had listened to Viktor and automatically labeled himself as lowly and pathetic in comparison. Viktor's training was simply judgment in Yuuri's eyes. His praise was empty.
The worst thing Viktor could have ever done as come here.
He came here to save himself. He was so confident that he could save Yuuri too. He thought Yuuri would give him a true purpose at the same time.
In reality, he could save no one. And no one could save him.
Viktor was worthless.
Yuuri was gold.
They would both be loved more after they were dead.
