When the Russian gold medalist, Viktor Nikiforov moves to the small town of Hasetsu to coach Yuuri Katsuki, your old rink mate, your best friend despite your objections, decides to play matchmaker.
{ Highest Rank: 6 in fanfiction January 2017 }
"The Fromage Blanc Custards with Radish Salad will be out in a moment." Georgia pushes Viktor and I outside and shuts the doors after us. I laugh awkwardly and look out at the view. This night was perfect. We might have gotten here late and been in the car with a potential murderer and there was the slight chance that I could burn down the building by knocking over a candle or two, but for now, I was in the moonlight about to have dinner with Viktor. All was right in the world.
~Y/N POV~
All was right in the world until I took my first bite of the Fromage Blanc Custards with Radish Salad and realized that 1. I hate Radish with a burning passion, 2. Viktor was in love with it, and 3. French food isn't all it's cracked up to be, but the wine is amazing.
{A/N I personally love French food, but I hate Radish "with a burning passion".}
"Isn't this splendid?" Viktor asks after finishing off his Radish Salad. I poke at a piece of lettuce wishing it was on a hamburger. The long car ride had made me extremely hungry and I had only eaten 2 bites of the Radish salad since we had gotten here.
"It's like nothing I've ever had before," I say trying to hide the fact that I hate the Radish Salad more than anything else I've ever tried.
"You don't have to lie." Viktor laughs and I blush and look down at my uneaten salad then over at Viktor's plate which was nearly licked clean. "It's an acquired taste. My mother used to make Radish cake and when she would I stayed later at my home rink so I didn't have to eat it." I glance up at Viktor who is chuckling and I smile.
He doesn't think I'm weird for not liking Radishes! Why would he think I'm weird for not liking Radishes? Who cares!
"I've never liked Radishes. They remind me of when I was pushed down on the playground and ate a mouthful of grass." I say awkwardly and fidget with the tablecloth. Viktor's eyes sparkle as he takes a sip of wine.
"That is perfectly acceptable," Viktor says calmly and opens his menu. He had chosen the courses for dinner before we had arrived so when we got here there wouldn't be such a long wait for food, but he starts pointing out delicious looking desserts like the 'Floating Island'.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Now, that looks good!" I say and my mouth starts to water at the thought of dessert. Viktor nods in agreement and points out a few other dishes that he liked or thought looked good.
"Have you been to France?" Viktor asks as he closes his menu and sets it to the side.
"Yes, it was beautiful/No, but I'd love to go someday," I reply and quickly add: "Have you?"
"Three or four times, but I would love to go there again. The culture is so rich and diverse and of course, and their champagne is...vkusno." I giggle and rest my hands in my lap. I had been poking my salad with my fork and now it looked like bugs had eaten out of my lettuce.
By the time Georgia brings our second course ( A Cassoulet ), the sun had nearly finished setting and the world was cast in an enchanting pink light. This truly was a magical night with the candles and how quiet it was without it feeling awkward.
Georgia picks up our dishes and places them on her tray. I glance over and see two bowls of what looks like a stew. "How did you enjoy your The Fromage Blanc Custards with Radish Salad?" Viktor and I exchange a look and laugh. Georgia's expression changes from happy to confused and back and she laughs with us. "So, you didn't like it? It's not my favorite dish either." Georgia confesses and looks behind her as if someone was going to get onto her for admitting it.
"Here," Georgia lays two steaming bowls in front of us. My stomach growls after I get a whiff of the dish. "You should like this better." I pick up my spoon and Georgia watches me take my first bite. At first, the hot stew stings my tongue then I realize that my statement earlier was wrong. I love French food. This stew was perfect!
"I knew she'd like it!" Georgia satisfied. She turns around and walks back through the doors and shuts them quietly.
"I'm not that picky..." I whisper under my breath and Viktor laughs. "But this is 'splendid'."
