Escargot

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Four days of Paris had rolled around, we'd been running through art museums and fancy restaurants and tall buildings that I didn't understand the historical significance of, and I was exhausted. I for one loved sleeping in, cuddling, and some other unmentionable things. Victor on the other hand was pulling me through so many different places I nearly passed out from all the excitement before I could make it to bed last night.

Today I'd talked him into eating at the hotel which he grudgingly obliged, however he made me promise to go out to this fancy place called Something Something François. It all sounds like gibberish to me. After about an hour's wait, we were lead to a seemingly fancy table inside a crowded restaurant reminding me much of our other date. Our first "real" one. Especially since this time, everything spoken around me really was gibberish, including whatever Victor said to the waitress when he ordered our food and drinks.

I sat there quietly, not minding the wait for the food because it gave me ample time to talk to Victor and I wanted nothing more than that.

"Hey, Victor?" I asked rather subdued since the last time I had done this ended a bit more tense than I anticipated.

"Yes?" He answered casually, fiddling with his hands under the small wooden table.

"I'm sorry for asking again, but what exactly happened with your family?" The words stung as they left my mouth and I felt like I could physically taste copper. I tried to pack all the sympathy I could into my voice but I felt as if I'd hit a delicate spot again. I kicked and shuffled my feet anxiously under the table awaiting his response, praying he wouldn't get upset. All he did was sigh, almost as if he were defeated.

"I guess now is another time, huh?" He whispered, again with his oddly defeated tone. Hesitating a moment, he began to speak and I tried my best to drown out the sound of clinking forks and talking around us.

"People like us..." He began, almost choking on the words, "Aren't quite as accepted in Russia. And it's not like Japan." Not like Japan? What does that mean? Our marriage wouldn't exactly be legal in Japan but I knew nothing about Russia, having been a drop-out.

"What do you mean..." I replied gravely, afraid to look at him so my eyes trailed down at my hands fidgeting with the napkin.

"It's punishable... Well, by death." The words came out hoarsely. I definitely hit a nerve. All I could think to say immediately was on instinct and I nearly shouted it out in my head before whispering it quietly his way.

"I'm... Sorry." It stayed quiet a few seconds as my heart beat with deafening sound and my brain rattled anxiously around my skull. I thought I could hear Victor whisper something to the effect of 'yeah' and I'd almost worried he'd begin to cry. I couldn't imagine living in a world like that.

"M-My um... Family was the same way. Except for Igor of course." He choked and his voice warbled. At that time, only thing I could think to do was grab his hands. I tried to hold on gently but I was so nervous my grip had gotten tight and my palms were beginning to get clammy.

"When they found out, they didn't exactly know what to do with me, especially my dad..." I held my breath and tried to hold back the knots forming in my stomach. "So I left. And that's how I met Yuri." My heart sank even lower and I felt nothing but pain was what I had caused him.

"I'm so sorry for even..." I started, but he quickly cut me off.

"No, you deserve to know. Besides, if I hadn't left, I wouldn't have ever met you. I'm so much happier now." He leaned in shyly, but I couldn't help but feel nothing but guilt and discomfort. In fact, I wasn't sure I wouldn't throw up in a matter of minutes. As if by prayer, the waitress showed up and spoke something in French and brought us our food.

"I'll eat whatever you don't like." He said, changing the subject. I nodded my head and grabbed my fork (which by the way I'm still not entirely sure if there's a way to hold it I didn't know of) and poked around my plate a bit. I felt a bunch of round... Things. I ran my fork over one. It was hard. I ran it over again. It had a smooth surface, almost like

(A shell?)

Escargot.

It wasn't like I could pass my entire plate to Victor, who oddly enough was eating this without a problem it seemed, but when he saw me that changed.

"Escargot. I thought I'd give it a try but it's not the best." He chuckled, seeming to return to his casual and happy state. He laughed to himself and I stared patiently in his direction.

"Dine and ditch?" I almost laughed out loud.

"Victor that's a horrible idea." I said with artificial annoyance.

"Oh, come on. I'll help y-"

"No." I narrowed my eyes and smiled in his direction, expecting this to be a joke of his but he folded my stick and grabbed my hand.

"On the count of three..." My heart began to race, I thought he couldn't possibly be serious about this. I felt him tense up while I stood stock still in my seat.

"Victor!" I hissed in his ear, but he only laughed at me.

"What? It'll be fine. It's not like they're gonna chase us. San, Nii..." He started and I was now drenched in sweat, halfway out of my chair, and fully panicked.

"...Ichi." I expected my hand to be yanked from its socket but he walked calmly and briskly through the restaurant, an undeniable confidence in his steps. We made it out the door without a single person taking notice of it, not one. I held my breath and closed my eyes until we got all the way to the street and hailed a taxi. When we finally got in, Victor began laughing hysterically as we drove back to our hotel room. I elbowed him in the ribs. Hard.

"You're such an idiot!" I spat at him, but he just kept laughing. I found no part in this funny. In fact I felt less guilty about the questions I'd asked tonight. He had no right to be so irrational. "What if we get caught?" I fumed, digging my nails into the skin under my pockets.

"By the time they figure out who we are we'll be back in Japan. Don't worry about it. The bill was gonna be like $200 anyway." My eyes widened in shock at him. I had to admit though, he was right.

"$200? For snails?" I gawked at him, deep down finding it humorous now that I wasn't on adrenaline anymore.

"I know, right? How does pizza sound?" He beamed, returning to his old self. I elbowed him again before we left the cab, letting him know i was still pissed.

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