Fan Fiction - Krasobruslení - Drabbles
Cup of Russia je soutěž Grand Prix, která se konala v Moskvě koncem listopadu (a já byla v roce 2006 u toho!). Johnny tam bruslil, Sergei též.
He was back to his favorite city, his favorite country. But something had changed. He was standing by the window in his hotel room, watching the lights of the city dance on the surface of the slowly flowing Moskva River. It was starting to snow, big fluffy flocks fluttering from the sky. Johnny was glad about that – somehow, it wouldn't be Russia without snow. Returning to Moscow brought back many memories… memories of things he couldn't have anymore. He was grateful that at least he could still have the snowy fairytale that he was used to having whenever he visited Moscow.
His cell phone started to ring. He glanced at the display – it had lit up with a number Johnny hadn't thought he'd ever see on his phone again.
Today, in practice, he had been so busy with the quad toes and salchows Priscilla made him do to notice him, to even think about him. But now, with the melancholy of the nightly Moscow below him and Sergei's number persistently trying to reach his phone, it all came crashing back on him. Emotions, memories, guilt, yearning… He took a deep breath and picked up the phone.
"Johnny?" The voice at the other end of the line was quiet, uncertain.
"Yes," he breathed, aware of the excited flutter deep inside him.
"I just wanted to… I wanted to say…" There was a pause and Johnny imagined Sergei biting his lip like he always did when he was nervous. "Good luck," he finally said.
Johnny stayed silent for a few seconds, strangely disappointed. What did you expect?! Stupid idiot. It's over. YOU ended it. "Thank you," he replied, his throat suddenly very dry. "To you too. Good luck," he whispered.
There was a moment of silence, followed by the dull tone indicating that Sergei had hung up. Johnny clicked his phone shut and closed his eyes, blinking away several treacherous tears. Everything had changed.