Dec 29, 2016
continued from [x] | @zimnij
Yuuri hadn’t intended to hold on for as long as he does. Viktor’s fingers are warm against his, the heat from their hands drifting lazily against the exterior of the small box. His first instinct dictates he avert his gaze, but Yuuri fights it, warring against habit until he manages to meet Viktor’s stare. His eyes are sparkling, he thinks absently, slowly untangling his fingers so Viktor can focus on the item that is, quite literally, at hand.
“Yes.” His voice, when it emerges, is a little weak with thinly veiled nervousness. “Happy birthday, Viktor. It’s, um—hopefully you—” Yuuri swallows, breaking that mess of a sentence. “I hope you like it.”