[06] Friday 05.28.17 10:33 p.m. : "Get Comfortable"

It wasn't until I entered the front door of Viktor's hotel room did I realize that it was very much a mistake agreeing to come here. As I pull my worn out sneakers from my feet, Viktor is pulling his dress shoes off to my right, I manage to get a small peek of the living room beyond the doorway. As my eyes travel from the plush brown leather couches, to the pure white silky curtains, all the way up to the twinkling golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling, I develop the same sense of unbelonging and unworthiness that I felt first entering his sports car.

Viktor, obviously with a sense of familiarity of his temporary flat, has no problem with kicking his shoes off and entering the posh living room, only pausing when he realized I wasn't behind him. He stops at the doorway to the living room, and throws a half smile my way. I can't help but awkwardly shift from one foot to the other in the entrance, attempting to smile back.

"Well, come on in." He waves me over. "What's mine is yours, don't be shy."

I feel the hesitation strengthen its hold on my limbs, but my pride forces me forward to stand beside the silver-haired man. Viktor's half smile blossoms into his infamous ear-to-ear beautiful smile, and he gestures towards the living room, insisting I go before him.

"You can get comfy in here," He calmly assures, as if he had noticed my hesitation, taking my shoulders and pushing me into the room from behind. Once we reach the center of the light carpet, he takes his right hand off of my shoulder, and points to the kitchen at the other end of the room. "While I'll be over there prepping dinner. If you need something, just ask for me or don't hesitate to get it yourself if that's easier. Otherwise, you can relax in here; you just got off of work and deserve a little rest."

I simply give a small nod. My eyes travel down to the dark colored couches Viktor gestures to, and I find my body resisting. There is no way in hell I'm sitting on these nice, expensive couches looking like a literal circus clown. Viktor, whom I'm 100% sure is probably irritated by my reluctance ness by now, grips both of my shoulders once again and pushes me down onto the couch. Once he settles me into the cushions, I curse at myself both for not wanting to sit and how heavenly it felt on my aching back.

"I'll go get you something to change into, I'm sure you don't want to stay in your work uniform all day." He says as he grabs a baby blue blanket that hangs over the other side of the couch and drags it over my legs, tucking it under my thighs. He throws me a quick smile, tucks a strand of hair behind my ear quickly, then almost tiptoes away around the corner, where I assume his bedroom is. I finally let out the breath I didn't know I was holding, holding a hand to my chest to assist in my breathing.

All he's doing is speaking to me, helping me out, and being a good friend… yet the past hours I have spent with Vitya have been blissfully breathless. At this point, the second time I am left to myself, I'm not exactly sure if it's necessarily a good or a bad thing. This much happiness must be bad for my health. I look down to my hands, the one pressed to my chest and the other already wound in the soft blue fleece blanket. This can't be real; after what happened yesterday, for Vitya to just show up again and make my life more… lifelike than it's ever been. What did I ever deserve for the angel of Viktor to grace me? I watch as my knuckles turn a sickly pale yellow as I grip the blanket tighter in my hand. There has to be something I can do in return. As a man, my pride won't allow being chauffeured everywhere like a princess like this forever.

I catch the noises of the bustling around of Viktor in the room over, and for some reason my heart starts to race in panic. What could I possibly do for him? I'm working a full-time job at a coffee shop, and I'm just barely getting by living on my own as it is. On top of that, there are so many things I want to ask Vitya; about what his life has been like, what happened those two years ago when I supposedly disappeared, and what he wishes for us in the years to come. Under the circumstances, I'd probably follow him anywhere.

My gaze rises up to the chandelier dangling above my head, and I bathe in the bright, sparkling light reflecting from the jewels. A millionaire like Viktor Nikiforov… what could a college dropout like me do for his benefit? The idea imprinted in my brain from really bad stories I've read that I could offer him my body, but I shake my head at the thought. Even if he were into men, I don't think I could satisfy him with something like that.

I mean… not that I wouldn't want to. That's something that shocked me when I first met Viktor in the coffeeshop after Vitya disappeared. I felt… attracted to him. When I knew him as Vitya, he was just my best friend that hadn't changed since we were small, and I recognized that he was attractive, but back then it wasn't anymore than that. Suddenly… the "real" version has so much sex appeal that I didn't realize before. He must have tons of fans wanting to fuck his brains out. Or for him to fuck their brains out, whichever suits their fantasy.

"Is this alright?"

I'm startled out of my thought process, my head snapping up to meet Viktor's eye, who is slightly leaning over the back of the couch. My gaze travels to the object he holds in his hand, a pair of grey sweatpants and a black, long sleeved t-shirt. At a loss for words, mostly embarrassed by the thoughts I just had of him, I nod and all but snatch the clothing from his grasp. Did I seriously just think about people wanting to fu- have sex him? What's wrong with me today?

"Are you okay?" A weight shifts to the back of the couch, and Viktor forces me to look up at him with his shining cerulean eyes. "You haven't said a single word since we got here…" His gaze falls, and a frown shifts itself onto his lips. "You're making me worry that I'm doing something wrong."

"N-No!" I'm fairly quick to jump up off of the couch, the baby blue blanket falling to my feet. "You've been an angel this entire time, truly! I'm just being awkward for no reason, I'm sorry." I fiddle with the hem of my work shirt, and keep my eyes down at my hands. "I guess I'm just surprised at the sudden series of events, is all."

He only stares back at me for an extended period of time, and I can only shift my weight from one foot to the other to expel my nervous energy. Viktor finally blinks, then nods slowly, almost to himself more than to me.

"Ok." He starts murmuring to himself, then his gaze returns to me, the blue of his eyes somehow becoming softer. His warm, inviting smile fights its way back onto his face, and I stupidly find my lips quirking up into a smile in response. "Alright, good." He continues murmuring and nodding, then his gaze falls to the clothing in my hands.

"Here, I'll show you the bathroom so you can change." He straightens his posture, and gestures for me to go around the corner, with the warm, welcoming smile I knew him for. A smile creeps its way onto my face without permission, and I kick the blanket from my feet in order to follow him.

"I hope you don't mind." Viktor softly calls back to me, then pausing at the first white door on the left. "I had a… little bit of an experiment in the tub this morning, so that's probably not very clean right now. But everything else should be fine, so take your time changing."

As he sweeps the door to the bathroom wide open, I can't help but gape. The way he had put it made it seem fine, maybe a bit of dye at the bottom of the tub or something. But I should have known better, this is Vitya we're talking about.

The tub and a good portion of the floor around it is covered in some gooey, pink substance with silver glitter in it. It reminds me of the consistency of pancake batter. My gaze travels across the bathroom in shock, the stuff is splattered across the walls and the back of the door. I turn back to Viktor, who sheepishly smiles.

"I know it… probably looks worse than I said. But! I made sure to clean the toilet and sink before leaving this morning. The floor around…" He trails off, taking a small step into the bathroom in front of the toilet, just barely in a clear spot from the pink, glittery mess. "Here should be good. I'll clean the rest up later, I promise. I wish I had a heads up that I'd be bringing you here, I'd have cleaned this up more.

"It's… fine." I squeak, stepping inside next to him. It wasn't fine.

"I'll leave you to it then." He flashes me with a quick smile, scooting past me in the only clear path from the gunk, and closing the door behind him. I gawk at the pink stuff once more. He didn't even try to explain what it was.

Distancing myself as much as I can from the goo, I pull off my uniform and change quickly, wanting out of that environment ASAP. I find that the sweatpants are just a little bit too long, so I roll them up at the ankles twice. I quick grab my work clothes and make way to scurry out of the bathroom, but my eye catches something on the corner of the counter. There are two toothbrushes there, both in little cute cups with adorable name tags. One is baby blue, with "Viktor" written in cursive on a sticker, and the other is yellow, with "Makka" and a heart on the outside.

"M-Makka?" I say out loud, and I glance in the mirror to see my eyes widening to the size of saucers. I hadn't seen Makka since I was very small, whenever I would visit Viktor's house she'd be napping in the basement, whilst Vicchan barked happily trying to wake her up. I remember the pure joy I felt the day I finished those matching blue flower crowns, and I put it on the poodles for the first time-- to me Vicchan and Makka were siblings. I loved them like they were both mine. They were Viktor's and mine.

As if on cue, I hear a loud yip from outside the bathroom door. I hurriedly spin to my right and throw the door open, but the brown poodle is nowhere to be found. I haphazardly drop my uniform in a pile outside the bathroom, and follow the sounds of her nails hitting the hardwood floors. I find the source of the noise, from the light gray door at the end of the hallway. I pause in front of it, hand hovering over the knob, and the clicking of nails on the floor ceases for a moment. I take a deep breath, turn the handle with a click and push it open, then almost scream much like a dog whistle when I'm knocked backwards by something fluffy, down painfully onto the floor. My cheek suddenly becomes coated in a disgustingly warm liquid, and I laugh, trying to push her away from my face.

"Good to see you too, Makkachin." I manage to get out between her licks of assault as I pat her head, choosing to finally let myself fall victim to her vicious tongue, as well as careful to keep my mouth shut. I wrinkle my nose at the gross texture as it's dragged across my face, but I don't mind it all that much.

"Makkachin!" I hear Vitya's disciplinary voice from the end of the hallway, followed by the muted sounds of his socks as he makes his way over to the pile of flesh and saliva that is Makkachin and I. "Get off of him, ya wild dog."

"I'm alright, I'm alright!" I urge, wrapping my arms around her to keep her close, but regardless, Viktor pulls Makka off of me by her collar. Not that it stops her, as she leaps up and down in excitement, twirling around and barking. I push myself up onto my knees and sit on my heels, scratching behind her ears as she happily pants, her tongue rolling over of her mouth like a pink fruit roll-up. My hand makes its way petting and scratching down her back, and the good girl rests her head into my lap. "I missed Makka too, after all."

"H-Hold on. You…You..."

I turn at Viktor's voice, which sounded oddly insistent and surprised-- very unlike Vitya. Once my gaze reaches his eyes, I see how wide they are, how concerned he looks, his usually bright and colorful irises almost icy as his eyes widen to dinner plates. I furrow my eyebrows at him in blatant confusion. Even Makka seems to notice his change in mood, as she raises her head to wag her tail excitedly at her owner.

"W-What's wrong?" I ask hesitantly, however instead of answering, Viktor quickly wipes his hands frantically on the front of his black apron, spins around on his heel and rushes back in the direction of the kitchen.

It takes me a second or two to compute that he had just fled, and I look down to Makka, whose big brown eyes are looking down the hallway to her owner. As I see Viktor almost slip on the hardwood in his socks trying to turn the corner, I sigh to myself, and stand from the ground, careful to remove Makka's head from my lap. Baffled at the lack of Vitya's explanation or rationalization for his leave, I tug Makka up onto her paws, and side-by-side the two of us follow him through the hallway, and into the living room where Viktor has plopped down where I sat moments before and whips out his phone from his pocket, fumbling to type in his number passcode.

The last time I remember Vitya being this quiet, I practically told him that I was unhealthy because of him, and downright told him that I was going to get rid of him because he wasn't normal. That we weren't normal. I'm not going to let him go again, and that means listening to him this time. I need him to talk to me.

"What's going on?" I question, damn near pleading. "Talk to me, Viktor." Leaning against the back of the couch, I see him pull up a blank notepad on his phone, and begins rapidly typing. His thumbs hesitate mid-sentence, then begins to speak while he types.

"I figured we should… keep track of any clues regarding our situation." He begins explaining with a surprising amount of concentration. "A-And I just realized when I saw you playing with Makka." Viktor finishes typing, and thankfully hands me his phone so that I may read over his notes. I quickly skim them over.

-Yuu and I were both treated for schizophrenia

-Each other's imaginary friends??

-Have physical objects from one another and retained memories from long ago, but seperate memories of recent

-Makkachin and Yuu both remember each other!!! IS it really schizophrenia??

Viktor suddenly spins around on the couch, and I flail back in surprise, causing my rear end fall back onto the frigid cold, hard floor. Clutching Viktor's phone to my chest to ensure its safety, my eyes whip to the man in question who is now standing on the couch over me, looking down on me like a king to his subjects.

"If you were my imaginary friend, Makkachin wouldn't have been able to see you, let alone would you remember her. I think there's something going on here, further than simply imaginary friends, Yuuri. I don't think schizophrenia had a part in this at all."