Chapter 68

The moment Yuri retreated with such an unfamiliar expression, Cherriot grew cautious as well. He was stubborn and willful, but he did not deliberately do things another person genuinely hated. Before Yuri’s injury, Cherriot had been perceptive enough to distinguish between Yuri’s true objections and empty protests. Now, he treated everything too carefully, which led to misunderstandings like this.

Yuri had been embarrassed, but what he wanted to hide was, in truth, trivial. “It will be difficult to read. That’s all.”

Cherriot did not seem to understand. Yuri wondered whether he truly had to confess something so ridiculous, but if it would help Cherriot behave more naturally, he could endure the embarrassment. “My handwriting is terrible.”

Cherriot’s eyes rounded at the unexpected explanation.

Now that Yuri had spoken the words aloud, the matter seemed pathetically insignificant. He closed his mouth, faintly mortified by how reluctant he had been to show it. When Alyosha or his father mocked his handwriting, he had never cared. Moments ago, however, it had felt like a humiliating secret. Perhaps there truly was something wrong with his brain; he was worrying over things he had never noticed in his life. Today, more than ever, Yuri felt strange and unfamiliar to himself.

“That’s why you didn’t want to show me?” Cherriot examined him with an unreadable look.

Yuri answered by quietly averting his eyes.

A smile tugged at the corner of Cherriot’s mouth. The brief awkwardness dissolved, and he quickly placed the notebook on his lap, grinning from ear to ear. “Let’s see just how terrible Wolfie’s handwriting has to be for him to hide it from me.”

Yuri turned his gaze back toward the notebook. Perhaps only his friends found his handwriting impossible. Cherriot had spent far more time reading and writing, so there was a chance he could decipher it easily.

“Brown… fur… blues… crunchy… chocolate chip,” Cherriot read aloud.

Apparently not.

“That’s enough. Give it back.”

Cherriot shook his head violently, his brow furrowed with concentration. He bent so low over the notebook that he looked ready to be swallowed by it, narrowing his eyes as he struggled to interpret the meaningless shapes.

“Wait. I can read it! If you explain why you wrote the word blues, I think the rest will make sense!”

“It doesn’t say blues. It says blue eyes,” Yuri corrected. “I wrote that it had brown fur and looked like a border collie or something similar.”

After explaining the word Cherriot had completely misread, Yuri reached for the notebook. This time, Cherriot surrendered it without resistance. Watching Yuri’s expression carefully, he offered the most tactful assessment he could manage.

“If Wolfie ever decided to keep a secret diary, no one would be able to read it. That’s useful, isn’t it?”

It was certainly a novel perspective. Yuri shrugged and closed the notebook. “You can make fun of it. I don’t mind. Alyosha and my father have been telling me my handwriting is atrocious for years, so I’m accustomed to people not understanding it.” He answered without embarrassment, hoping Cherriot would not invent praise merely because he felt obliged to be careful.

Cherriot was honest. “I can’t exactly claim it’s beautiful.”

“As expected.” Yuri could no longer understand why he had tried to conceal it.

“But you had no reason to be ashamed of it.”

The words identified an emotion Yuri himself had not fully recognized. He looked up sharply. Cherriot was gazing at him as though he were something unbearably precious. At the sight of that expression, the nervousness that had plagued Yuri all morning gradually subsided. I wanted him to think well of me. Cherriot already knew Yuri was an uneducated man who could barely read a proper book, yet Yuri had not wanted to reveal another flaw to someone he loved.

Perhaps this was what it meant to become conscious of another person. Things that had never mattered before suddenly became potential reasons to be disliked. It was not a comfortable feeling.

“To be honest, it’s incredibly cute.” Whatever discomfort remained vanished at Cherriot’s next words. Yuri frowned because he had no idea how to receive the compliment, but he did not dislike hearing it.

“I don’t understand how this could possibly be… cute.”

“A handsome, impressive man like Wolfie having atrocious handwriting is adorable. No one would ever expect it from looking at you.”

Yuri understood the feeling a little. He had experienced something similar when Cherriot, after doing everything imaginable with him, blushed merely because Yuri called him by a nickname. Cherriot’s words were sweet and pleasing, as though coated in sugar. Yuri studied him with bewildered eyes. The more he observed Cherriot, the more it seemed that the man continually gave him excuses to hope. When Cherriot openly called him adorable, the feeling became nearly impossible to dismiss.

Yuri wanted to know what Cherriot wanted from him. During the weeks spent nursing Yuri, Cherriot had rarely spoken this way. Nor had he approached him too closely or acted charming and affectionate as he did today. Now that Cherriot was once again closing the distance between them as he had in the past, Yuri found it increasingly difficult to maintain his composure.

Cherriot had said that the terms of his trust prevented him from dating anyone. Nothing about that should have changed. When Yuri believed guilt alone kept Cherriot beside him, there had been no room for misunderstanding, and Yuri could control his emotions. Today, however, Cherriot only confused him. If Yuri allowed this to continue, he might do something that would trouble Cherriot again. Yet, he did not want to push him away.

“There’s nothing cute about me. Words like that… would suit someone else better.”

It was the only precaution Yuri could manage. Rather than uttering the hollow word friend, he offered a careful warning that Cherriot’s behavior could be misunderstood.

The smile vanished from Cherriot’s face. Watching the warmth slowly fracture, Yuri realized that he had made a mistake after all. Regret followed immediately. He could have simply allowed Cherriot to behave as he wished. Why had Yuri felt compelled to speak? His dark brows drew together. With a sigh, he dragged one rough hand over his face, the coarse touch of his palm sharpening his thoughts. Now that he had begun, he had an obligation to explain himself properly.

“I don’t mean that I dislike hearing those things from you. But I don’t know whether you remember…” He had avoided this subject because speaking it aloud might destroy his remaining excuse to stay. His mouth dried completely; his throat seemed to close as well. Yuri moved his lips several times before managing to continue. Death had never frightened him, but the thought of saying something that might burden Cherriot stirred a faint fear.

“I asked you once what we were. We agreed to be friends, but I don’t think I’m capable of behaving that way yet. Especially when you say things like that… I become confused.”

He had finally said it. His pulse accelerated along his throat, and his heart constricted until it hurt. He had sworn never again to burden Cherriot by carelessly following his emotions, yet his mouth had moved as though that resolution had never existed.

“Cherriot, do you…?” Do you like me?

Yuri barely recovered his restraint before the question escaped. He had nearly said something that could have destroyed everything between them. Still, he had not repaired the situation. Cherriot did not look relieved. Instead, astonishment filled his face.

Of course he noticed. Yuri had agreed to remain friends, yet he had made it painfully clear that he still clung to his feelings. Exhaustion swept over him. Apparently, he needed more time before he could convincingly behave like Cherriot’s good friend. Then I can’t remain here. His condition had improved enough for him to fly, and he could continue rehabilitation after returning to Vancouver. He would focus on recovering there. By the time the family matter and investigation ended and Cherriot returned to his ordinary life, Yuri might be capable of behaving more calmly.

Every day beside Cherriot had been as peaceful as a dream, and Yuri wanted desperately to remain within it. Yet, he could no longer feed his own meager happiness on Cherriot’s guilt. He could not allow a situation like this to happen again.

“If you’re saying those things because you feel guilty, you don’t need to anymore—”

“That’s not why!” Cherriot suddenly raised his voice. As though jolted awake, he rushed to continue, “Of course I feel so guilty about Wolfie that it drives me insane. But I’m also someone who thinks Yuri is adorable just for breathing!”

It had been a long time since Cherriot spoke so loudly, and Yuri stared in surprise. After pouring out the words in a breathless rush, Cherriot paused, his chest heaving. Then, with the expression of someone who had reached a definitive decision, he seized Yuri by the shoulders.

The force of his grip made Yuri flinch. Cherriot was normally so determined to control his strength around him that every touch became excessively careful. Now, he seemed to have forgotten. His hands held Yuri with fierce pressure, as though refusing to allow even the slightest distance between them.

“Yuri, listen to me. I… I feel…” Cherriot’s voice climbed higher than usual, strained almost painfully from his throat. His face drained of color with every word. Watching him, Yuri found his own breathing becoming difficult. “I mean, with Wolfie, I want—!”

The tense words had barely rang through the living room when the doorbell sounded. At the same instant, loud knocking shook the house.

“Cherry, hurry up! You told me to get you there by eleven. Don’t tell me you’re still asleep!” Dolly shouted from beyond the living room window. Her shadow leaned toward the drawn curtains, trying to peer inside.

Yuri recoiled slightly. Cherriot’s family did not want the two of them becoming too close, and from outside, their current position must have looked like an intimate conversation.

Cherriot did not release him immediately. He held Yuri so tightly that blue veins rose beneath the skin of his broad hands. Only when Dolly approached the window and shouted again did his grip slowly loosen.

“If you keep ignoring me, I’m unlocking the door and coming in!”

“Damn it,” Cherriot scowled, his dark reddish-brown brows drawing together. He reluctantly let go, then dragged a hand through his hair. The carefully swept-back strands fell loose across his forehead, but Cherriot showed no concern for them.

“This is driving me insane. Wolfie, I have to go for now. I’ll come straight back after lunch, so don’t go anywhere, all right? If you need anything, call me.”

Yuri stared at him blankly, then slowly nodded. He was desperate to know what Cherriot had been about to say, but he did not want to interfere with his plans. “…I’ll be fine. Take your time. I’ve already taken too much of it lately, so you don’t need to rush back merely because you’re worried about me.”

“You aren’t taking my time. I’m the one pouring it all into you,” Cherriot rejected the idea with complete seriousness. He pressed his lips together, wearing the restless expression of someone barely containing his impatience.

Yuri’s heart accelerated for an entirely different reason. The moment Cherriot assured him that Yuri was not a burden, he felt… better.

“I ordered your lunch in advance,” Cherriot added. “One of the security guards will leave it at the door at noon. I asked a restaurant I know to prepare it for your condition, so I’d like you to finish all of it.”

“…All right.”

Yuri wanted to know what thoughts were passing through Cherriot’s mind, but he decided to wait. He had grown impatient today and made several uncharacteristic mistakes. Waiting and enduring, however, had always been the things Yuri did best.

Outside, Cherriot’s muffled voice grumbled, “Dolly, honestly… Couldn’t you have come just a little later?”

When Yuri answered obediently, Cherriot nodded. He gazed at Yuri with naked reluctance before finally rising from the sofa. “I’m heading out.”

The familiar promise of return—one Yuri had gradually grown accustomed to during their time together—touched him more deeply than usual.

“See you when you get back,” Yuri said. He had told Cherriot there was no need to hurry, yet he still wanted to see him again soon.

Perhaps some trace of that longing entered his voice, because Cherriot, who had been lingering on his way out of the living room, abruptly turned around. He hurried back to Yuri and spoke once more, the determination in his voice almost solemn.

“I’ll be back soon.”

At once, the anxiety that had overwhelmed Yuri moments earlier faded. Perhaps the pain and guilt Yuri had always imagined in Cherriot’s eyes were not the entirety of what he felt after all.

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