All About Us [Yuri Katsuki x Reader]

8 - Rude Awakening

Yuri Katsuki liked to think of himself as a patient man. He had to be if he wanted to master the art of figure skating. Practice involved having to have a level head at all times (since flubbing jumps and falling down on the ice gets rather frustrating after a couple of times).

But there are times when he just wants to lose it.

Take today, for instance.

It has been at least a month since he left Japan to go study in the US, but everything seems to be going in a downward spiral up until now.

Nothing just seems to be going his way.

Earlier that morning, he had forgotten to set his alarm and fell off the bed and landed into an awkward position. The hardwood floor was cold against his face.

He immedietly ran to the kitchen of the apartment he was renting to hopefully heat up some water for his usual (not-so-early) early morning coffee to wake him up a bit from his groggy state, and just when he was about to grab the kettle by the handle, his hand instead brushed against its scalding exterior.

He swore so loud that the neighbors probably heard him.

He knew he should have invested in a coffee maker at least to save him all the trouble.

After a quick bite to eat, he proceeded to the bathroom to get a shower. Something must have gone wrong with the pipes because just as he was about to rinse his hair to remove the suds, the water ran out.

He spazzed for a bit and slipped on the slippery tiles of the bathroom and landed on his butt.

Not to mention he missed the bus to campus that day and the next would come in another thirty or so minutes due to 'insert-stupid-reason-here'. He actually couldn't bring himself to remember the exact reason because of how miffed he is at his current predicament.

His campus was actually quite far away from where he lives. It was at the very least an hour's worth of travel not including the traffic. There was no point in running all the way there.

Seeing as he would be late for his morning classes anyway, he decided to pass the time in a nearby café.

His morning felt kind of incomplete with out having a nice, cup of coffee. (His injured hand refused to let him make one himself).

The cafe wasn't that crowded which he rather liked.

It could give him time to think.

The line wansn't that long and it was soon his turn to place an order.

The barista having to deal with a handful of customers at time, managed to switch his order.

He might have not been able to word out his order properly. He was still trying to get a firm grasp of English. It was a work in progress. A rather long work in progress which often lead to more than just embarrassing misunderstandings.

The poor guy on the counter was sweating bullets, it was probably his first day on the job.

Not wanting to give the barista anything else to worry about, he kindly accepted the drink and paid for it anyway.

He walked towards the table situated the farthest corner of the café, isolated from everyone else.

He just wanted to be alone for a while.

Unfortunately on the way there, someone bumped into him with a cup of iced coffee on his hand and its contents managed to find its way to his newly pressed shirt. He shivered. The sudden wave of coldness surprised him, earning a small yelp.