Without Him [Victuuri Fanfic]

Chapter 6

The time had come for Victor and I to go downstairs for breakfast. We were both nervous — how would my family react to Victor's presence? He had disappeared for a month without a trace, and was about to casually walk down the stairs to greet them.

"Makkachin," Victor called, grabbing the attention of the poodle at the end of the bed as he sat up. The ball of fluff looked up at Victor lazily. "Time to get up."

Makkachin stretched out his limbs and yawned. I could tell that Victor was anxious, he pretended as if nothing were happening. As if he weren't about to get swarmed by my concerned family. As if he wouldn't have to tell them about the loss of his mother. As if it were every other morning, waking up and greeting his beloved dog. Makkachin crawled across the bed to lick Victor's cheek, and then pounced on me in an attack of puppy kisses. I saw Victor smile again, but it only lasted for a moment.

At the sound of a whistle Makkachin was off of me, and looked at his owner eagerly with a wagging tail. Victor nodded his head toward the door, and the poodle hopped off the bed and pranced toward it confidently. Victor then looked at me, waiting for my lead.

He could usually keep a flawless facade of serenity, but now it was cracking into a million pieces.

"Do you want me to tell them?" I asked, grabbing his hand to comfort him. He considered it for a moment, but shook his head.

"No, it needs to come from me," he replied, although thanking me with his eyes. He intwined our fingers as I stood up, and he followed closely behind me. I let Makkachin lead us down the hallway towards the stairs, and stopped just before them. The scrambled chatter of my family floated up into the stairwell, and for a moment, one voice stood out above the others.

It was my mother.

Makkachin's ears shot up toward the ceiling before he looked at Victor with stars in his eyes. He was friendly with everyone, but for some reason, he adored my mom more than anyone, second only to Victor.

"Who is that?" Victor teased, causing the poodle to dance impatiently on his paws. "Go get her!" He encouraged. Makkachin raced down the stairs to greet everyone, and Victor squeezed my hand knowing he was next.

"Makkachin?" My mother's voice questioned. "Hey, buddy! What're you doing here?"

All of the other voices went silent for a moment. I looked at Victor before taking the first step down, followed by the second. He didn't move, and his grasp on my hand only tightened. I beckoned him toward me with strict eye contact.

"How do I tell them?" He whispered, panic washing over his face.

"It'll be okay," I reassured him, taking another step down and tugging lightly on his hand. I didn't break the connection between our eyes, but I knew that with the next step down, my feet would be seen by everyone on the lower level. "It's okay," I promised him again.

Victor's eyes remained locked on mine as he hesitantly took his first step. He took another, and another, and before I had even realized it, we had reached the last step. I watched as Victor's brilliant eyes broke their attachment to mine, and drifted into the space filled by my mom, dad, and sister. I followed his movement a moment later.

Makkachin was standing at my mother's feet, viciously wagging his tail. Mom had stopped petting him, and instead stared at Victor incredulously. My sister, still sat at the table, appeared frozen as well. Chopsticks rested on the table below her raised hand, as if she had dropped them while eating what was in front of her. My father sat beside her, chopsticks still in hand, although he stared just as incredulously.

"Victor..." my mother spoke first. She stepped toward us, arms outstretched for a welcoming embrace. She quickly closed the space between them, and Victor hugged her just as tightly as she hugged him. "We were so worried about you," she said into his chest, her voice shaky.

My sister jumped up from the table and ran for Victor, wrapping her arms around both him and my mother. Mari never let me see her cry — she didn't want to seem weak to her younger brother — but tears were streaming freely down her cheeks.

Victor had a quick reunion with my father in the form of a firm handshake, and my mother led us to the table. Mari returned to her spot beside Dad, my mother settled in the cushion at the end of the table, and Victor and I sat next to each other across from Mari and my father. The food was still hot for us to eat, but we didn't eat right away.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" My mom asked, gripping Victor's hand on top of the table. He politely nodded, but squeezed my hand desperately from beneath it. He was anxious again. "How have you been?"

Victor didn't answer right away. What was he supposed to say?

"A lot has happened recently..." he began. "I've been better." His answer came with a brief, pained smile. It made my mother's fair features twist with concern.

"Why don't we eat first, and we can talk about it afterwards, okay?" She said, giving him a comforting smile.

Our meal was relatively quiet, with everyone wanting to hear Victor's story. I had watched Victor eat so intently that I almost forgot to eat for myself. With every bite he took, it calmed my nerves a little bit.

He was going to be okay, I knew that. He would survive. But watching as he relayed his story to my family, it brought me to tears. It looked physically painful to him, as if each word wrenched a knife deeper into his chest. I tried to comfort him by rubbing his back, but he became distant. Removed. My mother hugged him tightly, but he didn't reciprocate it. He stared past her shoulder as if she weren't even there.

His eyes broke once more.

—

"Victor..." I murmured, gently rubbing the man's shoulder. He was sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at the posters that decorated my wall. It had almost been an hour since breakfast, and he had made little progress in finding his way back to the present. To my surprise, however, he looked up at me. "How are you feeling?"

He didn't reply. His shattered eyes only stared into mine — maybe he didn't have an answer. Instead of coming up with one, he gripped my waist and pulled my body so that I was standing just before him. He buried his cheek into my abdomen and hugged my waist tightly.

The only thing I could do was cradle his head and rub slow circles into the nape of his neck with the thumb of my other hand. He just stared into the air, almost thoughtlessly.

"Do you wanna go down to the hot springs or something? Might help you relax," I offered. He shook his head, and turned his head so that his face was hidden in the fabric of my shirt. "What if I drew you a bath?" I insisted, trying to find a way to help him. He didn't protest right away. "You wouldn't have to be around other people."

I rubbed his hair for a moment as I waited for his answer. He looked up at me with a soft expression. "I don't want to be alone, though," he uttered, his eyebrows furrowing. He wasn't completely denying my proposal.

"I can stay with you, if thats what you want," I suggested. To my surprise, he nodded. It was hard to contain the smile that fought its way across my face. "Okay, come on."

I pulled him off of my bed, and led him to a private bathroom where I could take care of him.