some things were.

Lazy mornings spent in bed, Viktor's arms tightening around Yuuri's waist as he nuzzled his neck.

Waking up to the smell of waffles, Viktor's loud humming coming from the kitchen.

The sound of laughter, filling the apartment as Yuuri tickled Viktor, knowing all his weak spots.

Whispered promises, silly arguments, passionate kisses.

Unshed tears.

some things are.

A photograph, taken when they weren't looking, their eyes shining as they stare at each other.

Stupid and cheesy voicemails, left when they were apart, replayed again and again.

The smell of his clothes, traces of that cologne he liked to use.

Lonely days, endless tears, all-consuming grief.

Silence.

some things will never be again.

In the mornings, there's no warmth on his side of the bed.

His skates no longer slide on the ice, instruments for beautiful and flawless movements.

Their apartment doesn't feel like home, not without him there.

His smile, his touches, his voice.

Memories.

some things will be forever.

"I love you."

I miss you.