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Pressed Flowers For You

Summary:

“ I’ll love you until all those flowers wilt, you know.”

“ They don’t, Victor?”

“ Exactly.”

A post-canon story that contains death. Because sometimes, you just need a good cry.

Notes:

To my best friend, who always becomes my test bunny for stories. Thanks for sticking with me even though I always ask you to read my saddest stories! (And making you cry in the middle of class)

I had to get this story out, so here it is! Enjoy!

(See the end of the work for more notes and other works inspired by this one.)

Work Text:

 

" Victor!"

The weather had just begun to warm up, melting the remaining snow from the year's cold, hard winter. The birds have just begun to sing, perching on the branches of trees, creating a beautiful symphony between them. Gentle waves swept the beaches of Hasetsu, shimmering in the early morning light. A few people were already out and about, enjoying one of the very first spring days of the year. Children played between the falling sakura petals, their cheerful cries and shouts fading in the background.

It was also the first day of the year where Victor got to run outside, alongside his beloved Yuuri.

Victor had just stopped to enjoy the view, opened water bottle in one hand, and his phone on the other. Makkachin was at his feet, panting from the exercise. There were beads of sweat forming on his brow, but he ignored the droplets for the sake of taking a picture.

Hasetsu was truly beautiful, just like the people than live in it. Specifically, one Katsuki Yuuri, who was jogging towards him and calling out his name. A slight blush was dusting his cheeks, likely from the running halfway through the island. The cool breeze played with his dark hair, slightly covering his glasses. His warm, cinnamon eyes shone beneath the frames. There's no one else I would rather fall in love with, Victor thought, as he smiled at him.

"Да, Yuuri?”

“ We should really go back. I promised to pick up Yurio from the airport later.”

“ Oh, he’s coming?”

“ You forgot, didn’t you?” Yuuri asked, giving him a disapproving look. Makkachin barked at his words, sitting by Yuuri’s feet, as if agreeing with him. Traitor.

Victor scratched the back of his neck. Two years after Victor showed up naked in Yu-topia was enough time for Yuuri to know him from the inside out.

“ You promised to help him polish his free skate, remember? “ Yuuri said, sighing.

“ Ah yes, that. Of course I did, Лапочка. I was just suprised that he came so early.”

“ You can’t fool me, Victor. Come on, let’s go back home.”

The walk back was mostly done in silence. Not that Victor minded. There were drawbacks to being viewed as a living legend, and one of them was never being left alone. There was always someone asking him to take a picture or answer a question, or someone who wanted to discuss sponsorship deals, or congratulate him. Over the years, he had learnt to cherish what minimal silence his life had.

He’d always thought that being in a relationship with someone else would always take away the little moments of silence that he had, robbing him of the freedom of being in his own head. The tabloids would say something different, that he’d had too many relationships to count, but the truth is, he was never fully invested. It was always the other party that approached him, that took the first leap. Victor just never bothered to leap with them.

Then came Yuuri, and for the first time, he didn’t take away the rare moments that Victor cherished. Instead of filling them up, he simply stood beside him, enjoying the silence along with him. How lucky am I to have met you, Yuuri?

Before Victor realized it, they were standing at the gate of a modest two-story house. ただいま, he thought, opening the gate for both him and Yuuri. The sight of their tiny garden greeted them, trees framing the front door.

“ Victor, look! Our bushes!” Yuuri pointed out, looking rushing towards what he was pointing at.

Flowers. There were light blue flowers covering their bushes that lined the fences. How cute was it for Yuuri to be excited over the sight of flowers?

“ They must have bloomed last night. How did I miss it on our way out?”

“ I’m not sure. But I’m sure that I missed it because I was too busy looking at you.”

Yuuri softly chuckled. It was harder to make him blush now, after being used Victor’s antics, but that made the moments where he did all the more satisfying.

“ Sap.”

“ I try to be.”

Yuuri stepped closer to the bushes, eyes admiring the buds up close. Victor smiled at the sight.

“ Nice flowers, aren’t they? They’re even in your favourite color.” Victor commented.

“ They’re hydrangeas, Victor, remember? We picked them out a few months ago,” Yuuri said, as he turned back to him.

“ Oh, right.”

“ Do you want to know the reason why I picked it?” Yuuri asked, recieving a nod in return. “Do you remember that costume that you wore the blue flower crown? There aren’t any natural blue roses, so I chose the closest one that I could find instead.”

Sometimes Victor forgot how his Yuuri was a fan of him. You still love to surprise me, don’t you?

Well, if you like it that much, let’s preserve them!”

“ Preserve them?”

“ Yeah, you know, like those pressed flowers they make. I’ve never done it before, but I don’t think it’s that hard.”

“ Alright. Let’s go then. I still have a bit of time before Yurio comes. It can’t take that long, right?”

 


 

 Apparently it did take long. Yuuri ended up being late in picking up Yurio, which ended up in said russian yelling at him. Who knew pressing flowers involved so much work?

That night, Victor kept the pressed flowers by their bed, displaying his masterpiece for everyone to see. Mostly for Yuuri, though.

 


 

The hydrangeas bloomed for about two months, before the cold came again.

 


 

Victor was proud to say that it became somewhat of a tradition for his Yuuri. Every spring, his beloved Yuuri would pick out the hydrangeas that he loved the most, and Victor would press it for him. One pressed flower for each year they’re been through together. Over the years, the papers holding the flowers began to stack up, until Yuuri bound them together to make a book of sorts. To anyone else, it was made up of simple, repetitive pages, unlike what others would do. A flower on each page, accompanied with a year next to it. To Victor, it was treasure. Proof to the world just how much he loves Yuuri.

He was never really good at arts and crafts as a child, and his ‘skills’ continued to worsen as an adult due to lack of practice, but he’d do it for his дорогой.

Yurio had called him an idiot on several occassions when he’d seen Victor pressing the flowers, but he knew that his words held no venom behind them.

“ You’ve fallen so hard for Katsudon, you know. Arts and Crafts aren’t even your hobby, old man,” Yurio had said during one of their family dinners, as Victor liked to call them, when Yuuri had gone to the kitchen to get their dessert.

“ I can’t help it. You’ll understand one day, Yurio. Speaking of which, how’s things with that Otabek kid? You like him, don’t you?”

“ Shut the hell up, Victor.”

Yuuri was oblivious to the conversation when he came back, as Yurio glared daggers at Victor.

  


 

“ I’ll love you until all those flowers wilt, you know.”

“ They don’t, Victor?”

“ Exactly.”

 


 

Of course, like all good things, it came to an end. Not the flowers, no. They were permanent, unlike most things in life.

The end came in the form of a drunk driver crashing into Yuuri late one January night. They didn’t even catch the guy, considering that it was a hit-and-run. There was hope at first, when the emergency services found him still breathing. Victor had dropped everything and immediately went to the hospital upon hearing the news.

At least the world was kind enough to let him see Yuuri breathing one last time, before taking him away. At least the world was kind enough to hold Yuuri’s warm hand one last time, before it went cold. At least the world was kind, but not kind enough to not take away his husband. The doctor’s couldn’t do anything to save Yuuri.

The doctors couldn’t do anything to save Victor from the dark, hollow feeling he had in his chest either.

 


 

 Victor couldn’t remember much of Yuuri’s funeral. His close friends and family had come to pay their respects, as the funeral was barred from the public. He remembered giving a speech, but having to stop halfway through because he couldn’t talk through his tears that were flowing from his already swollen eyes. Even Yurio had shed tears.

Katsuki Yuuri laid in a coffin, face pale, as if he were sleeping. Even then, he looked ethereal. His ring glinted on his finger in the faint morning light, before the lid of the coffin closed, allowing Victor to see the love of his life one last time.

His favourite hydrangeas were laid on his grave, put there by none other than Victor.

 


 

Yuuri’s glasses lay unused on top of their pressed flower book, gathering dust.

 


 

The house felt so big, while Victor felt so small. Makkachin whined when he wanted Yuuri, but how can Victor tell him that? Voicing it out loud made the whole situation sink in, and he didn't want that. Some days, he had expected to see Yuuri in the morning, drinking coffee at their dining table. He had expected Yuuri to accompany him on his daily run, laughing as they enjoyed each other’s presence. Some days he expects to wake up to Yuuri’s smiling face, body flush against his, as the soft morning light streamed through the windows. Sometimes he felt that it was all a nightmare. That he was going to wake up any moment.

The world is cruel sometimes, isn’t it?

 


 

That year, Victor couldn’t bring himself to look at his - no, their - garden. Couldn’t bring himself to see those flowers that reminded him of what he had lost.He couldn’t bring himself to think of Yuuri, which left him too empty, too cold.

That year, there was no addition to their book.

Soon, two pages were missing from it.

The next year, three pages.

The following, four.

As the years passed by, instead of counting how many pages there were, Victor counts the ones that are missing, that should have been there, when things were perfect. When his beloved Yuuri was still there with him.

 


 

The hydrangea bushes in the garden wilted away, dying, never blooming again.

 

 

 

Notes:

Translations
Да - Yes
Лапочка - Honey
ただいま - I'm home
Дорогой - Darling

I hope you like it! *Gives out tissues and hugs*
Please do leave comments! It makes me
happy ! ( God knows how much we all need it after that story)

P.S Anyone catch that Dear Evan Hansen reference?

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