‘ everyone can forget us — as long as you remember. ‘
the ghost of their shared past lives on in old medals and records that have long been broken, and even in aches and pains that still haunt viktor often as the years go by far too quickly. it’d been almost a decade since he’d stood on a podium with cheers of fans filling the arena and soft plush toys covering the ice. does he miss the sport or the attention from the world that came from being the best of the best ?
both - if he’s being truthful. index finger traces a photo of himself and yuuri skating that had been framed to proudly hang on the wall. the click of a door makes viktor jump in surprise, too lost in the memories of the past to hear the little footsteps of their daughter, and knocks the photo off the wall. luckily it doesn’t shatter. akira pays it no mind, giving a yawn before reaching up until she’s lifted up and nuzzles into viktor’s shoulder, he can’t help but smile at the warmth she brings his heart. it’s soothing to the part of him that yearns to relive the past just once more.
it’s on instinct that he sways, a new kind of dance, one not meant for the ice or cameras - just for her. viktor barely notices yuuri picking up the frame until he speaks, quiet, calm and exactly what needed to be heard. they’d spoken about viktor’s itch to return to the glory years on and off, there’s still parts of him that needs thawing out, maybe those parts have been lost to the ice completely. ❛ how could i forget the best gift i’d ever been given ? ❜ cheek resting atop of akira’s head, free hand intertwining with one of yuuri’s. ❛ you. ❜
