#yurio01

@kotyonokonice

He hasn’t grown used to the aptly-named city of Fuckoville, but Yuuri has settled into a certain numbness which makes leaving his apartment manageable, provided he can summon the energy. 

In a way, it’s nice not having to worry about the Hot Springs on Ice tournament. If he never competes, he can never fail, can never see the look of disappointment in Viktor’s eyes. By default, Viktor will be Yurio’s coach, right? Something in his chest tightens at the thought, and he has to get out. There’s nowhere to go; he’s trapped here, but he can’t sit still doing nothing. Is there an ice rink in Fuckoville? A ballet studio, at the very least?

He pulls the backs of his sneakers over his heels and ties the laces, and then he rushes out the door. The nervous energy which had dissipated from his body returns in full force, and he runs through the city, heart pounding against his throat as he tries to escape every thought of home. 

In his rush out the door, he forgot his mp3 player, so he listens to the sounds of the city instead. People talking, some sort of loud crash -- wait. He skids to a stop and sees a kicked over garbage can. He looks past the poor object and finds a foot belonging to a certain familiar face.