"Yuuri!" And he wills himself to move, to answer, to look at his husband. But faith is never kind. Black spots cover his vision, his ears ringing and he hears muted screams- as though they were from a distance. His eyes slowly close and the last thing he think of is, "I'm sorry, Vitya." It felt like drowning. Time Travel.

"When a spy is at a crossroads, if their partner's face comes to mind first, it's time for them to retire." That's a famous saying among spies. When he slid that ring on Viktor's finger, being fully aware of the implications of putting it in the right hand, the thought of retirement crossed his mind. Or, alternatively, in a world where Yuuri's a spy. (a short drabble)

"I wish you'd never retire." He hears the man with ocean blue eyes say. A sigh comes from his lips, another dream. He'd like to say that it was just a product of his imagination, a fantasy- after all, it was common for authors to have wild imaginations. But.. it felt real. If he were a romantic, he would've gone as far as to describe the dreams as another set of memories.

And Yuuri smiles, watching the blood dribble down the sheets, because who needs a failure like him anyway? And his world starts to darken, the last thing he sees is the growing pool of his blood.