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He didn't know when it got this bad.
Sure, he had his bad days. The days when he wished for nothing more than to relax underneath dozen of blankets, surrounded by even more pillows. The days when he slept his problems away, an unhealthy coping mechanism of escapism that has worked thus far.
But not today.
No, today was different.
He didn't even have the motivation to get underneath the covers, instead opting to lay on the neatly made bed. No matter how desperately he tried, he couldn't seem to sleep. Staring blankly at the ceiling, eyes unfocused and body still.
Today was indeed different.
Or was it the week that was different? Maybe the month?
He hardly knew. Everyday combined together in one undecipherable blur, the day a complete routine that no matter how hard he tried he would never be able to change.
He didn’t feel sad...He felt numb.
He felt nothing.
And it was selfish.
He should feel something. At twenty four he had a wondrous ice skating career, living and working valiantly with the Russian team, had a gorgeous finance who only wanted his happiness. He should feel happy, excited, content. But instead, he was rewarded with pure numbness.
This wasn't like his bad days, this was an ongoing pain that he couldn't get rid of.
No matter how hard he tried.
He didn't even remember how long he sat staring at the ceiling, hopelessly trying to sleep, trying to escape reality even for a little bit. All he did know was the door to his bedroom opened, and his name slipped passed his finance's lips in his sultry Russian accent.
Under normal circumstances, he'd run into his finance's arms but today, moving was incredibly grueling. So he continued to stare at the ceiling, even when he registered the concerned voice that wavered through the eerily quiet bedroom.
"Yuuri?"
Viktor's voice was laced with concerned, as he watched the love of his life stare at the ceiling. He would have believed he was dead, if it wasn't for the subtle movement of his belly as he breathed.
The Russian slipped into the bed, wincing as he realized how cold his finance was.
"Yuuri...are you oka..."
"I'm fine, Viktor,"
"Don't lie to me,"
The room slid into uncomfortable silence.
Viktor sighed, sliding further into the bed until he laid in the exact position as Yuuri, staring at the ceiling, however the difference was his blue eyes narrowed with intense determination.
"Yurio was being incredibly difficult today," Viktor began, and didn't wait for Yuuri's acknowledgement that he was listening, because he knew he was. "His short program is harder than last year, but it's expected now that he won gold at the Grand Prix,"
Viktor moved to run a hand through his hair.
"But," he sighed, "He doesn't seem to understand that practicing this now will help him later," Viktor paused to think, "He thinks he has to be the best now." He let out a low chuckle, "there's so much that boy needs to learn,"
Just when Yuuri thought his finance was done, he continued.
"The invitations came today, I assume you didn't see them, hmm? That's alright, we can see them in the morning and get them ready to be sent out in the afterno-"
Viktor paused mid sentence when he felt Yuuri shift closer, the only movement that he had seen from him since he returned home.
Viktor continued, "Chris asked if we are having maids of honor, which I guess we should figure that out soon. I don't know who I'd pick...Probably Mila? No, Yakov, Yakov would look great in a dress don't you think, Yuuri?"
A smile graced the Russian figure skater's lips as he heard Yuuri's small snort of laughter.
"Ahh, then I've been thinking. Where should I take my beloved for our honeymoon? Paris? The city of love. New York? I was thinking we could stay in Russia, but its been awhile since we saw the world,"
He noted the small nod of agreement, and another not so subtle shift.
"And-"
"Viktor?"
The voice was small, like a frightened child. Only being heard because the room was dead silent, and so was the quiet night outside.
"Yes, my love,"
Yuuri let out a whimper,
"Hold me,"
Instantly, Yuuri felt arms wrapped around him. Viktor's body heat filled him with much needed warmth, the beating of his finance's heart soothed him like a soft lullaby.
The love Viktor showed caused him to break.
Yuuri cried, harder than he usually did on days like these. He sobbed helplessly into Viktor's chest, his emotions not giving him time to realize he was ruining Viktor's shirt with his snot and tears. He choked out apologies, over and over again. Soft I love yous, mixed in.
"It's alright, Yuuri," Viktor soothed, tightening his arms around Yuuri, "Don't apologize. I'm right here. I love you,"
Through the choked sobs he could hear a small, "I love you more,"
"That's not possible," he murmured into Yuuri's ear, "Now do you want to tell me whats wrong?"
Yuuri shook his head violently, just desperately trying to sink further into Viktor's hold.
"That's okay. I'll stay right here until you do." With that, Viktor pressed a small kiss against Yuuri's forehead. "Now where were we? Yes, our honeymoon..."
Yuuri let out a small laugh.
Yes, he didn't know when it got this bad.
Nor did he remember when the days blurred together like a film.
But Yuuri did know that he'd always have Viktor right there beside him to help him through it.