If Perfects What Youre

Yuuri took a deep breath, and faced the starstruck barista. “I am sorry, my Russian is very bad,” he said tentatively, shoulders hunching slightly. “Do you want me to repeat?” “N-no, sorry, sir,” the barista said. She blushed and brushed her hair behind one ear. “I’ll get that for you right away!” She stepped away from the counter and called in fast-paced Russian, “Dmitri, come here! The most beautiful man in the world is back!” Viktor’s smile grew. The employees of the coffee shop weren’t being cruel or making fun of Yuuri’s accent, they were enchanted with him. Viktor could sympathize, his fiancé was very enchanting. And then he noticed that Yuuri was curled in on himself, eyes lowered and arms wrapped around his chest. [In which Viktor realizes that Yuuri is a somewhat unreliable narrator]