Yuri didn't care if Yuuri drank the little bottles. It was the thought that counted and it was the only thing he could think of on short notice. It wasn't like he knew what a 24 year old anxious ball of a skater would want to relax.
"Well, you did bother me and I'm here, so.."
Yuri sits on the bed, deciding if Yuuri said nothing weird was happening there then it was okay. He leans back on his hands, drawing his knees up to rest feet against the edge of the bed.
"... Its really frustrating, you know? Getting texts like that..."
He flops back onto the bed, knees still bent but after a moment he lets his feet slide off. They didn't quite reach the floor.
"I bet he's frustrated too. He left skating to coach you and its not like it hasn't helped. You've broken personal bests, you're here at the Grand Prix..." He waves his hand towards the ceiling, brow furrowed deeply. "And then you talk like you're a burden or waste of time! Doesn't that say to Victor 'I think all this effort you did is a waste!'?"
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"Well, you did bother me and I'm here, so.."
Yuri sits on the bed, deciding if Yuuri said nothing weird was happening there then it was okay. He leans back on his hands, drawing his knees up to rest feet against the edge of the bed.
"... Its really frustrating, you know? Getting texts like that..."
He flops back onto the bed, knees still bent but after a moment he lets his feet slide off. They didn't quite reach the floor.
"I bet he's frustrated too. He left skating to coach you and its not like it hasn't helped. You've broken personal bests, you're here at the Grand Prix..." He waves his hand towards the ceiling, brow furrowed deeply. "And then you talk like you're a burden or waste of time! Doesn't that say to Victor 'I think all this effort you did is a waste!'?"