Silver locks where in tangles as Viktor pinched the bridge of his nose. Oh how his head ached furiously and it only increased with Yuuri’s words. He wasn’t yelling, but it sure sounded like it in his mind. Thankfully he was situated on a bench as he tried to gather up the answer to the younger male’s questions. The previous night was almost in a fog, but he had enough memory to at least remember tidbits of it.
“Too much.” The words slipped from partially opened lips with a groan as he now wiped at his brow. “Minako mentioned a fancy bar…and we went.”
Hangovers didn’t come often enough to Yuri for him to find enough of a cure for it. It was an age old question, asked by generations and generations of people along with other classics like ‘where is the holy grail located?’ and ‘is it possible to sell your soul?’. All of these questions had something in common: Yuri had no answer to them.
Yet determination attempted to give him an urge to push forward. He searched the creases of his mind for an attempt at a solution to all of his problems. What came out, however, was not so elegantly put.
❝Have you tried taking something?
Drinking water?
Eating?❞
No, no, these were headache cures. Hangover. What cures a hangover?
The skater thrived to be helpful to someone he owed so much to. If he had no answer, it might just kill him. Yet nothing came to mind other than the things he’d listed previously. Maybe remaining silent would solve all of his problems?
