- keep your window unlocked because he will NOT hesitate to pick/break the lock and scare the shit out of you
- he met your parents and it was awkward for everyone involved
- he’s a 6 foot tall punk looking guy with long hair who paints his nails black and constantly looks pissed
- and your parents were like “so this is your boyfriend,,,,,,,,,,,,”
- he was on his best behavior but you know he’s kind of a dick
- you gotta specify WHEN and WHERE you’re going with him and EXACTLY what you’ll be doing
- you both learn to be sneaky
- “Connor got tickets for us to see A Christmas Carol from 8 to 9:30 and reservations afterwards.”
- sike the tickets were Zoe and Alana’s
- you’re actually going to a Fall Out Boy concert
- eventually your parents meet Connor’s parents
- “(Y/N)’s been such a good influence on Connor!”
- after meeting this well adjusted family, your parents chill out a little bit and make your curfew 30 minutes later
He couldn’t breathe. All the oxygen had been sucked from the room and the little that had occupied his lungs, sat frozen as his fingers clenched the phone in his hand. He felt his hand shaking, making the letters etched across the digital screen hard to read, despite having read the message several times. He tried sucking in a harsh breath but all that came out was a small strangled choking noise that caused Yuuri to glance up from his magazine a few feet away. “Yurio?” Yuuri asked softly, setting his magazine down on the coffee table gently, his eyes now fixated on the pale teenager. Yurio clenched the phone harder in his hand until he was sure the glass was going to break. He shook his head gently, clenching his other hand, feeling his fingernails digging into the scrapped flesh of his palm. He felt something wet coating his fingers, realizing he was probably bleeding, having opened old wounds. He coughed loudly, trying to force airless oxygen into his deprived lungs, finding it difficult to concentrate, finding it difficult to swallow past the lump forming in his throat. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and he flinched, jumping from the couch as the world suddenly came back into a blurred vibrant focus. He gripped the phone tighter in his hand, shoving it back in his pocket as it vibrated again. He didn’t have time for this. He couldn’t have time for this. Not now. He stared at Yuuri’s face, concern and worry etched across his face, and Yurio felt tears welling in his eyes as angered frustration clawed at his chest. He needed to leave. He needed to get away from Yuuri and Viktor. He needed to be alone. He looked over at his bag lying haphazardly on the ground next to the couch, and walked over to it stiffly, picking it up, his hand still clutching his phone tightly. The edge of the phone was beginning to dig into his flesh, and Yurio shoved his shoes on his feet harshly as the message flashed across his mind again. He let out a strangled breath, biting his lip harshly, willing the tears that threatened to swell in his eyes to stop from spilling over their tired rims. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Yuuri make a move to stand and turned quickly towards the older skater, “I’m going to the rink.” He winced as the words left his mouth harshly, and let his hand hover over the doorknob slightly, drowning out Yuuri’s endless yammering. He knew Yuuri was worried, but he couldn’t listen to him talk right now. He couldn’t listen to anyone right now. He needed to be alone. Otherwise… “Yurio? Let me come with you-” Yuuri said softly, searching for his shoes. Yurio shook his head quickly, feeling his phone vibrate again as another message reached the small device. “Nyet! I’m- I’m going alone,” He spat. He unclenched his hand from the phone in his pocket and looked down to see the impression engraved deeply across his already raw flesh, blood was beginning to flow to the surface of the cut and Yurio clenched his hand into a fist, letting his fingernails dig into the exposed flesh; letting himself feel the pain. He needed to feel the pain. He needed to feel something, anything- anything besides the hurt and anger that flooded his mind, anything besides the pain clawing at his heart. His phone vibrated again and Yurio ripped the door open harshly, biting his lip once more as Yuuri asked if he was okay. He sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the world around him closing in on him, knowing he didn’t have long… he needed to get away… he needed to be alone before he lost it. He slammed the door behind him loudly, pressing his back against the wooden door, slamming his head against the door, and pulled his phone from his pocket roughly. He let out a shaky breath and stared at the message painted across the tiny bright screen as tears swelled in his eyes, dripping down his face.
-Hi baby. It’s mom. I want to see you! Love you Yuri!
Yurio wiped roughly at the tears that spilled down his face, unclenching his fist, watching the dark red drip down his fingers, seeping under his fingernails. He sucked in another shaky breath, running a hand through his blonde hair, not really caring if blood was now streaked through his blonde locks. He pushed himself away from the door gently, pushing the phone back into his pocket, and started walking towards the ice rink as Yuuri’s question echoed through his head. Was he okay? No. No. He wasn’t okay. In fact, he was far from okay. He was fucking drowning.