Viktor supposed he should have been glad that routine had helped someone, but there was a bitter set to his mouth when Yuuri mentioned it. "I can't get that damned routine right," he said, and turned his head away, frowning. At any other time, he probably would have smiled, laughed, said something inspiring, but at the moment, he was exhausted, and he just didn't have the patience. From the very beginning, Stammi Vicino had been a struggle. He knew what was wrong with it; he didn't know enough about love, about longing, and the program just didn't suit him no matter how much he put into it. At this point it had become a matter of pride, and he only stuck with it because Viktor's vanity would not allow him to abandon the damned thing. He didn't feel inspired, there wasn't anything driving him anymore other than a stubborn refusal to retire. Now, it simply existed as a sore spot, and a stark reminder of the lonely hollow that was his own life.
He returned his eyes to Yuuri's, and they softened just a bit, changing from the first hard frost to something warmer. "I'm sorry. I... yes. It's okay. Thank you... Yuuri."