#tag. starter

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tag. @emilnekolakofola

❝ Why did I ever agree to this. ❞          He asked himself for the thousandth time as he put his arms through his suit jacket. Going to a club with Sara and. . .  Emil. . . wasn’t exactly his idea of a good time. Mainly since in a dress like that -- when his sister looked so beautiful --- he’d have to look out for her. Men would flock to her the way mosquitoes did sugar water.

Mosquitoes he’d undoubtedly end up fighting off all night. 

❝ Sara, are you ready? ❞      He called out -- only to frown when he heard no response from the bathroom. Upon further inspection a great, completely undignified yell was heard all the way down the hallway as he gaped at the message she’d written in the fogged up bathroom mirror.

    Meet you there Michi  ~♡♡

As if on cue his phone vibrated and he answered the call mid-screech, blubbering to that happy go lucky idiot-        ❝ Sara's gone! Is she with you? Did you two ditch me so help me if you’ve left without me I will hit up every club in RUSSIA and smoke you two out! Che palle! ARRGH! You were behind this all along weren’t you! ❞

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tag. @yuriieros

❝ Who the Hell does he think he is? Getting close to my Sara like that, ❞       He grumbled, slumped over the bar counter and gazing into his near fourth empty wine glass with contempt.

❝ That smiling bastard will feel my wrath tomorrow, ❞       the boy continued to mumble and hiccup, his mood changing suddenly when he saw the other skater enter the establishment. 

With a sharp HMPH and snap of his head in the other direction he ran a hand raggedly over his face. As if he’d let Yuri Katsu- Katsuko? Katsudon? Katsuki- well whatever his name was see him like this. Growling he downed the remaining remnants of vino and set the glass down on the bar.

He couldn’t exactly make eye contact with anyone right now. Like an irritable cat he tried to ignore everyone around him when he really just wanted some attention, muttering under his breath.

[serenatapattinatore-blog]

tag. @appassiceonato

❝ Ayy, I understand. Si, mammaaa, ❞        He groaned aloud, pinching the bridge of his nose as he briefly removed the cellphone from his ear amidst a litany of Italian from the speaker that could be heard. After a moment, he brought it back to his ear. 

❝ I will tell Sara to text you when we are on our way back to the airport. Si. Si, ❞         he grumbled squinting up at the sky. Looked like rain.

❝ Mamma I have to go. Ti amo. Yes, yes I- pfft, of course I’ll remember. Ciao. ❞      Pocketing his phone he turned to walk back inside the hotel when his gaze met that of another’s, supposedly out to find cellphone service as he had.

Only that glare on his mug was mildly irritating. 

❝ What? ❞ he challenged him, with only the red tips of his ears to indicate any form of embarrassment. 

     ❝ Don’t tell me you don’t call your parents during competitions too. ❞

If this shorty so much as breathed a word about him being a Mama’s boy he’d be sorry. Of course he loved her it just. . . it had just bothered him in the past when others had teased him for it.

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tag. @trueerros​

❝ Ah Madonna, ❞      He swore as his cellphone died -- and with it his google maps app and the only means of figuring out where the hell he was. A street. Somewhere. In Russia. 

Without complete certainty as to what Russian taxi drivers looked like he felt completely at a loss. Well, hopefully if he started walking at the very least he’d figure something out.

He’d been on his way for about ten minutes when a car pulled up beside it and the window rolled down to reveal a familiar face.

❝ Chris! ❞      Came the strangled exclamation.

Thank God he was saved!