#viktor imagines

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"She does not like me."

Viktor's voice was low, barely discernible from the hum of machinery in the laboratory. He sat hunched over his desk, pen never once faltering from the sharp angles of his scrawled equations and head never once raising from his intense focus on the notepad before him; he made the statement as if it were a simple fact, as he accustomed himself to speak ages ago when he first learned that people only listened when you at least seemed like you had something to say. Jayce, from across the room, paused his welding to peer at his colleague, flipping up the metal protective mask only to knit his brow at him. "Who doesn't like you?"

Viktor jabbed his pen into his paper, placing a dark decimal dot in-between the digits of his derivatives. "The new assistant."

"What?" Jayce scoffed, smiling disbelievingly. "That's--- Viktor, that's silly. Everyone likes you."

That only earned a sideways glance from Viktor.

Jayce deflated. "Well, I mean, most people like you," he corrected. It was true that Viktor had become a rather popular man during his time at the Academy; he was handsome in a slender, angular manner, and was gifted an intelligence that put even the sharpest professors to shame.

Jayce had heard, more often than not, whispered swoons and giggles from students and scientists alike across the campus of the Academy all about the qualities of his face and body--- even his voice, accented with flipped 'R's and soft consonants and shrouded in soft-spokenness became the subject of flirtation and fawning that would, ironically, rarely ever reach Viktor's own ears.

Yet Jayce was also no fool--- he understood that Viktor had his fair share of detractors, too. Although without proper basis for their dislike for him apart from their dislike for Zaunites, it was no secret that not every Piltover native enjoyed Viktor's involvement in Academy affairs. Still, from Jayce's perspective, Viktor wasn't doomed by any means of social standing. "Maybe she's just shy," he offered.

"Shy?"

"I mean, sure. Hextech's pretty big now, and I'm sure that working with one of the founders could make her a little nervous."

"She's plenty friendly with you," Viktor said, sharper than he intended to be.

Jayce blinked. "Since when does that matter to you?"

Viktor turned in his chair to frown at Jayce. "Excuse me?"

"People liking you," Jayce said, crossing his arms. "You never cared before."

"I do not care," said Viktor defensively.

"You seem concerned enough about it when it comes to her."

"I am not. I am very unbothered, actually. I could not care less about whether or not she finds me enjoyable so long that we accomplish what we're supposed to. In fact, I would find no disappointment in acknowledging that---"

"Viktor, your pen."

His gaze snapped down at his pen to find that he'd pressed the tip so hard into his notes that ink had begun to leak from its cartridge, blotting his work black. With a hissed curse he tossed the pen away into the waste bin beside his chair and crumpled the now ruined paper into a tight ball. Jayce raised an eyebrow. Viktor glared.

"I do not care," he repeated. "I would just rather have a work environment without unnecessary conflict."

"...Alright. If you say so." Without another word, Jayce flipped his mask back over his face and went back to welding.

With a heavy sigh, Viktor fixed himself a fresh piece of paper to start his calculations over on. Whether you liked him or not, he thought to himself, was irrelevant. Never before had he caught himself up on matters of popularity, and he wasn't about to start now.

Even if you had turned right around and fled the scene earlier that day when he first entered the lab, squeaking something about needing a refill on your mug of coffee.

It was irrelevant, he repeated. He did not need your approval. In fact, he did not need your opinion. Whether you liked him or disliked him, it did not pertain to Hextech and thus deserved no place in his consciousness.

Yet no matter how hard he tried he could not push the notion of your resentment to the back of his mind, much less quell the way that every time it intruded on his otherwise cool thoughts, it made his stomach twist.

And for a moment, when he allowed his mind to wander into the what-if of you truly having a terrible dislike for him, he found it impossible to ignore the rush of dread that chilled his chest, followed by an insistence of burying the thought beneath denials and the equations he regurgitated onto the page in front of him.

Viktor, after all, was a man of heart more than mind, despite the impression that his brilliance and logical schemas guided every one of his actions. Indignant at himself, Viktor curled further over his desk, dedicating all his self-control to fixating on the work to be done.

He did not need your approval.

He did not need your opinion.

Most certainly of all, he did not know that your skittishness was instead a result of a mortifying, intense infatuation for him. It didn't even cross his mind. As admired as he was throughout the Academy halls, Viktor never thought himself worthy of such things.

So when you returned later on, barely able to meet his gaze as you rattled off reports of the results of Hextech's latest experiment (which once again made his heart lurch in his chest), Viktor could only think of what it was he might have done to irk you. And afterwards, persistently, what he could do to make it right.

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All curves, soft and round and the edges— sleeping beside you was like slumbering amongst the clouds. Before you, Viktor swore that physical contact was something he preferred to steer clear of. Something about it was too invasive to him, too vulnerable.

Now he contributes the majority of his morning pains to the sheer amount of strength it took to will himself away.

He knew there was work to be done. That was why he awoke at the crack of dawn each morning, why he consistently had the faint scent of coffee on his breath, and why he was moved to near tears having to leave your warmth.

To hold and touch and run his hands over your softness was a blessing from the gods themselves; to be held and touched back was his ascension to a higher plane. Viktor, all sharp angles and bony edges, had never been afforded comfort in Zaun. Then you came along, and suddenly he could not imagine a life without you.

You had, effectively, ruined him.

He could not sleep unless pressed against your form, basking in your warmth and comfort. Had he not seen how the apples of your cheeks lifted and grew rosy at your smile, he would go about the day with the sinking feeling of something missing deep in his chest. His hands felt empty if not splayed affectionately across your body.

So on those mornings— those terrible, cruel mornings— where he awoke before you to set off to the laboratory, he mourned the loss of your presence like a tiny funeral, and on those afternoons— those long, exhausting afternoons— he held onto the memory of you while he calculated the future of Piltover like he were authoring a nursery rhyme.

And on those wonderful, beautiful evenings, when he returned home to you?

He stuck himself to your side as a bee would to honey.

Good luck getting him away from you. Or don’t. He would prefer it that way.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

“Eh,” you shrug, “I doubt my presence was missed.”

He shakes his head, “most have already asked for an audience with you. You’re going to come across many disappointed faces, I fear.”

“Aw, poor babies,” you kiss your teeth, stopping in the doorway to look around the room. Multitudes of tables were set up to hold different inventions. Most of the crowd had already moved on, the aisles free to roam comfortably. 

Although you’d have rather stayed home, there was a nagging that stayed consistent in your mind. It whispered to you during the night, while you tried to work, while you roamed the empty halls of your estate. 

Oh, sweet death. It would sing, a symphony without the strings. 

Heimerdinger's letters on the subject once brought you annoyance, but this year, you decided to indulge him. Months of writing, planning your short visit, tell you what to expect from some of his students. You tried to keep an open mind, but as you survey the room from your standing point, you find mirrors of what you’ve seen before. 

He chuckles, and you nod to the enforcers that stand beside the doors. They barely glance your way, all zoned in your own worlds as they try to stay awake. 

“Tell me,” you muse, “anything promising?”

“That all depends on what you’re looking for,” he smiles, “the entries this year are very promising, I should add.”

Finally making your way into the building, you start down one of the rows, briefly reading off the small cards that line the table. It was intriguing, seeing what the human mind can create. Each one was different, promising innovation and change for the ones who needed it the most. Some were simple, a new irrigation method, a new tool to help with surgery. Others were more intricate, a way to heal broken bones faster, a way to grow taller or thinner in a matter of days. 

Heimerdinger continued to talk at your side, keeping with your slow pace. His voice was bright and joyous, a singing tone that contrasted to yours. He spoke enough for the both of you, and as time passed you’d grown accustomed to his hyperactive personality. Always easy to pick out of the crowd, various voices meshing together in one large mass that you tried to ignore. 

“The last time I was here,” you break the silence, glancing down at bright blue eyes, “you told me I’d be impressed with the entries.”

He pauses, looking at you with narrowed eyes and a twitching lip, “I was correct then, just as I am correct now-”

“Eh,” you wince, scrunching your face up and rocking a hand side to side, “I’d say-”

He cuts you off, speaking over you, it makes you laugh. Holding your hands in surrender at his stern tone, “New minds bring new innovations, different outlooks that we haven’t thought of. It’s brilliant, what the mind can do without restrictions.”

Stopping at the end of the table, you reach out to grab a small device, painted an array of blues and pinks that resemble a chomping shark. On the side was a pin, your thumb brushing over it, nodding your head once and setting it back down. Next to it was a small card, the dimensions, components, and its purpose all messily written.

“Brilliant. Yet, the council never seizes what can excel the cities.”

Heimerdinger huffs, “Many trials can take years to complete, and other items do not get chosen.”

Humming, you choose not to argue. It was something that would always come up between you both. With him on the council, you liked to poke fun. Liked to make jabbing remarks that would cause his fur to bristle, his foot to stomp. He didn’t pick up on it until years later, and stopped indulging your antics. Tonight, you suppose he forgot. The excitement of young minds filled the air, cheerful laughter and jittering tones that spoke too fast. 

The back of the crowd was already making their way into the main ballroom, where all inventors and potential patrons would speak of partnerships and opportunities. Sometimes you wouldn’t even make it to that room, instead heading home after surveying the array of inventions. 

“Has the ranking already been released?” You ask, turning down another aisle. Boots tapping against the tiled floor, you brush down the front of your jacket before continuing. Most things mirrored each other, mostly the same except for a slight difference. It makes you smile, seeing the small things added. A simple touch of a difference that brought out the mind of the inventor. A different paint, a different metal, a different bolt or screw. It was all intentional to them, all things different that make them human. 

“Ah! Indeed! Announced just before your arrival-” He jumps, reaching into his jacket to bring out a piece of paper. It was pristine, decorated with gold and black ink. He handed it to you with a smile, and you looked over it with a raised eyebrow. From left to right, was the ranking, name, age, and small description of each entry. In tiny numbers besides that, was where each person could be found. You briefly look over each description, coming up empty handed on what you were interested in. 

Fourth Place, Ekko ---, 13, ---

Third Place, Powder ---- , 12, ---

Second Place, Jayce ---, 23, ---

First Place, Viktor ---, 24, ---

Your step falters, hand quickly grabbing the edge of the table beside you to right yourself, and you glare at the bolt that slides across the floor. It was a gear, its notches broken and chipped. Heimerdinger hums a light tune under his breath, continuing on his way. He didn’t see you almost fall, didn’t see your eyes narrow and glare at the page in hand before cursing under your breath.

 Shivering, you tilt your head to the side and turn the paper over. The back was filled with an array of the named Patrons, Investors, Mages, anyone who could take a beneficiary. 

In italicised gold ink, was your name.  

Frowning, you glare at Heimerdinger, who continued to make his way to the main room. Perhaps he thought only two rows was enough to look at, he knew what you were here for, after all. 

“I’m done here,” you grumble, turning to leave before Heimerdinger shouts your name, walking quickly down the aisle to meet you once more. Gaze stern, he regards you with a frown, “you just got here, I refuse to let you leave.”

“That’s called kidnapping,” you scoff, trying to walk past, but the Yordle stands in your way. 

“You’re hardly a child, yet with the way you’re acting right now- I can hardly tell the difference.”

You fake a gasp, placing your free hand onto your chest. 

“Heimerdinger, you insult me.”

He ignores you, “you must meet some of the candidates before you leave, who knows- you might find who you’re looking for!”

Sighing deeply, you refuse to look at him, instead turning back around and to stare at the open doors that await you on the other side of the room. You could faintly hear the music that floods through, glasses clinking together as connections are made.

Dropping onto your haunches, you feel your jacket fold behind your knees, puddling around you. His eyes briefly widen, before his hands rest on his hips, beginning to tap against the tiles. 

Holding out the paper, you tap the front, finger brushing along the parchment right next to each name. 

“See these? The names, small descriptions of what they’ve brought?” His eyes flicker, and you can see the gears turning, before he sighs.

“I do, my dear.”

“What is here that will thrive under my apprenticeship?” Heimerdinger's eyebrows relax, the fur atop his lip drooping slightly. He seems to fully deflate for a moment, and then a spark ignites, and he's set alight with a new vigor. 

“If you give a plant no water, will it grow? If you simply look at an unfinished project, how will it come to fruition? You must work for it,” your name is softly spoken, a hand gently placed onto yours. 

“Ha,” you laugh, sarcastic, shaking your head and dropping your arms to rest on bent knees. 

“If I wanted to water a plant, I wouldn’t be here.”

Sighing, he steps closer to grab your free hand once more, his other coming to gently pat the top. 

He was so kind, so gentle with the people around him. All bright colors and curious nature, a mirror to you. Dark colors, disinterested eyes and almost permanent frown.

“Each human is different from the next, you simply have to talk to them. Gage what they want to pursue, and go from there. You’ll find what you’re looking for faster that way, you know.”

Grumbling, you throw him a glare. Standing, you brush off the front of your pants, and turn towards the room once more. Some of the attendees regarded you with curious looks, whispering to their partner while making room for you and Heimerdinger. Others stared with wide eyes, clutching their drink to their chest. 

The room itself was beautiful, an open space once used to present statues and large art pieces. They were moved away, replaced with small tables full of small, bite sized, foods and flutes of champagne. Large windows covered the wall to your right, letting in the sun. Thick, red velvet curtains framed them, golden tassels holding the fabric open. Some were cracked, letting in the clean city air. 

There was a brief moment you hoped you wouldn’t be recognized, but your attire and companion gave you away entirely. 

Piltover was the city of progress, its people dressing as such. With bright colors of gold and white, displaying their house sigils proudly on their own attire, all sparkling and proudly presenting themselves. You didn’t have a house here, didn’t have a name, you didn’t wear Piltover's colors. Keeping your gaze forwards, you try to ignore their intrusive gazes. 

The room itself was chilly, and you reached to pull your jacket tighter around you. It was a deep blue, silver threading and embellishments decorating the front and back. It reached down to your boots, the material slightly billowing behind you as you walked. 

You make your way to the edge of the room, and politely smile at a few young faces who continue to stare. Wearing the academy uniform, you wonder if Heimerdinger would recognize them, but the student body was much too vast now to remember each new face. They each blush, quickly turning back to whoever they were talking to while walking away. Soon, it was only you and Heimerdinger, who continued to smile like nothing was wrong. 

“Why are they looking at me like that?” You ask softly, hands clasping behind your back, paper still in hand. 

Heimerdinger chuckles, “you’re rarely seen in the city, and you wonder why everyone is so curious?”

“I hate being a spectacle,” grumbling, you turn to look at anything else. Trying to ignore the lingering gazes, the whispers that include your name. 

“Maybe,” he gasps, “you should visit more! Oh, now wouldn’t that just be lovely?”

Scowling, you glare, shifting your stance to hiss under your breath, “oh, you’d like that wouldn't you? You little demon.”

He laughs to himself, waving you off, “you just might come to adore the city the longer you frequent. The City of Progress is ever changing, my dear.”

Ignoring him, you try and make out the faces from one another. Some councilors were present, all with a champagne flute in hand as they talked to academy students, other investors, even potential partners that could benefit for their own gain.

One boy, though, all smiling and bright eyed, continued to talk with a small group of students. The one who caught your eye, though, wore the silver medal of second place around his neck. He had a small device in hand, twisting and maneuvering it around to explain to the others how it functioned. Dark hair pushed back haphazardly, tan skin that seemed to glow under the light, he was a handsome young man. 

“What of Jayce-“ you squint, “Jayce Talis?”

Heimerdinger makes a questioning sound, following your line of sight before whistling, the end trailing off, “The beneficiary of House Kiramman, I’m afraid.”

“Hm, not swayable, then?”

He only waves you off, “he seems to be prospering under their care- what of Ekko and Powder?” he’s pointing to a young duo opposite Jayces' group. Sitting at one of the small tables, drinks untouched. They were consumed in a hushed conversation, both staring inquisitively down at an open notebook. Short blue hair stopping just under her shoulders, the young girl bites at her nails. The dress she wore was violet, flowing just past her knees. It matched the pink stripe in her hair perfectly. 

The boy, though, was in an academy uniform, white hair pulled away from his face. Dark skin, kind eyes, his leg tapping anxiously. 

“Ekko and Powder?” You parrot, and Heimerdinger makes a noise in the back of his throat. 

“Best not to separate them,” he stops short, quickly recovering “They work well in tandem, bouncing off each other as if they were small balls of energy. You’d find most progress with both.”

That wouldn’t do; you sigh. Looking back to Jayce’s group, you briefly meet his eyes. A bright hazel that shimmered with energy. He falters in what he was saying, eyes darting between you and Heimerdinger before he frantically looks back to one of his friends. Sighing, you kiss along your teeth. There was no shaking the eyes you would spot in the crowd, clinging to you. They would quickly disappear, blushing and whispering. This part, you hated the most. All the people, staring and whispering. It made you feel small, scrutinized under them. Were some of them judging you for arriving late? Were they wondering when you’d accept a new apprentice? Closing your eyes, you try to level yourself. It wouldn’t do you any good to drag yourself through turmoil. 

“You mentioned a number of them requested an audience?”

“Ah!” he jumps, clapping his hands once, before scurrying away and into the crowd.

You tried to keep yourself steady as student after student was brought to you. Some were smiling, blushing as they offered you their hand politely. The conversations were dragging, them speaking of their ambitions and dreams before being silenced by your raised hand. Some would grow teary, words dying off like the light in their eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” you’d smile, a sympathetic tone wrapping your rejection, “Your ambitions, although bright, do not align with what I’m looking for.”

Some took it better than others, shaking your hand once before departing with disappointed faces and sagging shoulders. Heimerdinger would throw you a glare, ask what was wrong with them, if you were doing it just for spite. Each time, you’d shrug, “they cannot give me what I need, Heimerdinger.”

One girl was promising, Sky Young. She dazzled you with her beauty, crossing her arms and smiling brightly. She had freckles that covered her full cheeks when she spoke, glasses that reflected a dreary image of you. Life danced across her face with each word she spoke, a desire to discover, to create. She offered to show you her ideas, what she had brought as her entry. Her smile didn’t falter when you declined, and for once, you could feel hope dance its way between your ribs. 

Until she mentioned her schooling, and how she’d want to continue innovating and creating. 

With a heavy heart, you reluctantly rejected her. She took it respectfully, dipping her head. 

“I have one more idea, although he did not request an audience,” he sighed, before he departed once more. For, hopefully, the final time tonight. 

Towards the two hour mark, you find yourself standing with your eyes closed, listening to your own breathing and the chatter of conversation around you. The windows had been closed, the sun shining directly through and casting shadows of people along the floor. The music was a repeat of around ten songs, you discovered, and on the seventh song you heard Heimerdinger approaching, the distinctive tapping of a cane following. 

My dear!” Heimerdinger sings, stopping to stand between you both. Smiling forcefully, you ignore the onsetting headache as you look over the man in front of you. Loose pants on long slender legs, a vest that clung to a lithe waist. Fingers that gripped a golden medal, and the pommel of a cane. The ladder made your skin prickle. 

Eyes scanning higher, gliding over the grey tie that fits his throat, brown hair that almost curls around his ears, and dazzling honey gold eyes that stare back at you with unwavering certainty. Shoulders relaxed, the man seemed to be studying you as well. 

“This is Viktor-“ drowning out his voice, you bite down on your tongue. Heat builds across your back, sharp claws digging into your skin to drag its way over your shoulders. Fatigue deep within your bones, you clasp your hands behind your back. 

“A pleasure, truly. Madam?” He smiles, it doesn't reach his eyes. 

Speaking your name plainly, you tilt your head, eyes narrowed, “congratulations on first place. I don’t remember seeing you in attendance last time I was here, are you a new student?”

“Viktor has been my assistant for some time, working under my watchful eye while he completes his studies. Though, he’s one of my top students!”

A hum, and you decide to look at anything but the man in front of you. Stomach turning, you wished for a drink. No doubt, if you could drink the bubbling champagne, you would’ve had five glasses by now. Your head moves towards the windows and when your eyes catch the light, Viktor catches a flash of red tint. He almost shivers, smile wavering and as quickly as you look away, you’re back to watching him intently. 

“Your patron must be proud, working under Heimerdinger personally.”

He waves you off, and Heimerdinger gives you a curious look, gloved hands clasping in front of him, “Viktor has no patron, dear friend.”

Eyebrows rising, you look back at the younger, who was glancing at the painting behind you. Pushing the wings of your coat open, you slide your cold hands into your pockets, paper still in hand. It was folded, now hidden away. You skim your finger over one of four points, pressing it into the pad of your index before retreating.

 “You’ve no patron? Can I ask why?”

It was a first, seeing someone so young without the guidance of a Patron. Every one you had met, were almost all students. They each were vying for one, asking for guidance to help with their research. Viktor, though, had seemingly made it far enough by himself. 

Hands boxing his vest, he only shrugs, “Eh,” he hums, “I find it more fulfilling to work by myself. I simply assist the professor with miniscule tasks when needed.”

You wince, “I apologize on his behalf, then.”

“You insult me! Viktor works diligently and without complaint, thank you,” Heimerdinger gasps, crossing his arms. 

The pair of you chuckle, and before you stop yourself, you find a smile curling around your features, “I commend you, I can barely stay around him for too long before i get a headache.”

“Have you known the Professor long? You speak as if you’re close?”

Your smile falls, and Viktor wonders if he’s spoken out of line. A melancholy look floods your features, and you look to Heimerdinger, “I’ve known him almost my whole life. He’s been a close confidant to me in my times of need, surely as his assistant, you can agree?”

“I can, his guidance has helped me with my personal work.”

“Any success?” You can feel the answer already swelling between you both, and with a disappointed shake of his head, Viktor tenses his shoulders, “Only on paper, the council deems experimentation ‘too soon’”

A small bout of anger pools in your chest, such a brilliant mind, condemned to a rigorous routine of theory after theory, faux solution; one after the other to show a group of councillors, not even proficient in the field of study, what they deem to be ‘safe’. How has such a promising city made so much progress, if minds such as his were forced to sit patiently?

“Isn’t the city of progress supposed to encourage, I don’t know- progress?” Rolling your shoulders back, you give Heimerdinger a pointed look.

“Safety must always come first, dear friend! Not everyone can go into their back yard and ignite an explosion.” He shoots an equally devious expression your way. Viktor clears his throat, shooting Heimerdinger a warning glance. You smirk, and with a tilt of your head you ask teasingly, “have you blown something up, Viktor?”

“My work can sometimes cause an unwanted chain reaction, It’s not as if I want to cause an explosion.”

“‘Sometimes’? Do you regularly almost blow up buildings? What does your work entail for you, hm?”

Cheeks burning, Viktor avoids your eyes, silently cursing the professor for bringing up the select few times an experiment went awry. 

“I want to help the people who need it most, and end the suffering of the common person. My work includes basic machines and tools that could make everyday life more simple, like mine-workers. Why let outdated, faulty machines cause more suffering, when something more reliable and simple can help?”

You're smiling, looking down quickly to slide the toe of your boot across the tiles. It's brief, but it allows you to gather your thoughts, “that’s certainly an ambition.”

“Reminds me of someone, no?” Heimerdinger nudges your leg, and you wave him away. Viktor’s eyes roam your features, “You’re also a scientist?”

“I… used to be, when I was young. Now, I simply provide the necessary equipment for the work to continue. Of course, I oversee it, but I refrain from interfering.” Sliding your hands from your pockets, you flip the now crumpled piece of paper through your fingers. 

“Her apprentices thrive, my boy. You should see the work others have accomplished with the tools she offers!.”

“An apprenticeship?” Viktor looked slightly confused, nose scrunching as he shifted his footing to settle more comfortably. Silent, you nod. Knowingly, you refrained from saying anything else. Your neck was starting to hurt, back aching from standing in one place for so long. 

You could have walked around, mingled with others. Yet, what good would it do? Talking with polite faces that would only speak willfully of you behind your back, fake laughter and fake bonding that would, truly, get you nowhere in this society.

You’d much rather suffer the consequences of stagnation when Viktor looked at you with unhidden emotion. He didn’t try to cover them up with indifference. He bares his emotions without vulnerability, how his eyes narrow and eyebrows furrow, how his nose scrunches in annoyance, how his lips tilt in barely-hidden amusement. You can see it all flicker across his face, moments in time captured by another person’s eyes. It's familiar, you realize, how simple humans truly could be. 

“Mm,” you scrunch your face, not liking the term so carelessly thrown around, “I call it a beneficial agreement.”

“Have you found any success?” Viktor retorts, smiling softly at the way you soften in disappointment. Much like his own, you yearn for a solution.

“I have not, my previous apprentice made great advances in his research. He had a great mind, I wish to find one similar.”

Your friend, though, deemed it a perfect time to raise his own voice, “Would something like that interest you, my boy? I theorize your research would thrive much more with her, rather than me.”

Ice water, poured directly over your head.

“Heimerdinger-“

“Professor-“

Honey gold meets yours, and you promptly raise a hand. It’s familiar how you both regard each other. Too comfortable, you were the one who had to cut it here. 

“While I appreciate the gesture,” a warning issued within the group, blaring red, “I cannot find it within myself to consider someone who isn’t interested in the slightest.”

Viktor bites his cheek. Was he interested? He was secure with his position as Heimerdinger's assistant, yet the idea of being able to thrive in his field without watchful eyes sounded very appealing. Even Heimerdinger himself seemed thrilled at the idea of such a position for him. 

“Who said I wasn’t interested?”

Kissing your teeth, taking a small step backwards, hand settling itself back at your side. 

“Even if you were, I’d have to politely decline.”

Viktor, for once, finds himself at a loss for words. It’s like you’ve completely changed within the second Heimerdinger mentioned the possibility of him working under you.

“Decline? Miss,“ Heimerdinger steps closer, but you send a glare his way. It doesn’t hinder his stubbornness, “Viktor is more than qualified to take on the responsibility!”

“He isn’t-“ you stop short, head tilting as you look him over; Mulling over words that could express how against this you truly were. You look at his shoes, his cane, his chest, and finally his eyes. Curious and inviting, so alive with ambition and determination. 

“He isn’t the right fit.”

Heimerdinger almost laughs, “Right fit? Viktor is my assistant, he has enough determination and willpower to climb the ranks of Piltover! Where others would falter, Viktor thrives. Even with his first time attending, the boy has won first place!”

A sense of pride, Viktor smiles, but your huff of annoyance at the statement makes the emotion fade.

“You’re correct, He’s the assistant to the dean of the academy, doing just fine for himself, as you say.”

“He could be much more, and you know this just as well as I do.”

The beginning of an argument is swelling, both Heimerdinger and you sharing glares and scowls. You’ve taken to crossing your arms, all but ignoring Viktor to turn your attention to the Yordle. Top lip twitching, Heimerdinger almost stomps his foot, “must you make things so difficult?”

You laugh, hands rubbing harshly at your eyes, sarcastically smiling, “first place doesn’t really mean anything, his ambition is too straight forward-”

“My ambition has gotten me this far, miss. If I was willing, I could get farther.”

“So you agree?” gaze narrow, you turn to him with sternness, “you choose to stay stagnant in your current position?”

It's his turn to flare with annoyance, and his eyebrows furrow, “No, I choose to benefit from my current position.”

“The boy is learning, absorbing the information that he gets his hands on. Working under you, he would be exposed to a plethora of material- he would rise higher than he ever could working under me.”

You raise a hand, and suddenly Heimerdinger breathes a heavy sigh, “Viktor, you have a brilliant mind, and a unique outlook. Yet, you do not fit the qualification I’ve set for the position.”

“My dear-” you pointedly glared, and he fell silent, “I wish you the best of luck in your research, now if you’ll excuse me gentleman, I have overstayed my welcome.”

Ignoring the calls of your name, you make your way back to the front of the building. Someone tries to step in your path, but with a tilt of your shoulder you easily slide past them, shortly turning them down with a not-so-pleasant glare. 

You had lost yourself in how easy-going it was to converse with Viktor, almost forgetting why you were there in the first place. In reality, he was the most promising individual you’ve come across. Yet, you couldn’t find it within yourself to take him from the place he thrives most. He wanted to change the city for the better, pursuing actual innovation. How could Heimerdinger cast upon you the decision to ask him to leave his home? To cast aside his well earned position?

Your carriage was still waiting patiently among the others. The sun was starting to set, casting golden rays through the trees that lined the street. There was a man on stilts slowly walking down the street, lighting the lamps that stood tall.  The footman smiles when seeing you, opening the door and offering you his hand. 

Settling yourself down in the uncomfortable seating, you look over the paper, crumpled and folded one to many times. The edges were worn with your fiddling, and slowly you unfold it to look over the seemingly never ending list of names. 

First place, Viktor —-

There's a small sliding door that sits between you and the coachman, a little bigger than the size of your hand. Silver hinges with small ornate detailing, and a matching silver latch that swung side to side during the bumpy rides. It slides open smoothly, green eyes and white bushy eyebrows gaze back with a softness akin to a grandfather.

“Where to, my lady?”

Clearing your throat, swallowing thickly, you toss the paper onto the seat beside you. Relaxing, you breathe deeply and take one final look at the museum, “take me home.”

“As you wish, my lady”

------

Your home was large enough to house a great family, yet only you remained. The halls were dark, two wings once occupied with life. Now, only a few rooms from each were used. The library was full of unread books, your laboratory untouched by your hands for years. Your office was where you mainly resided. In front of the windows that climbed up to your ceiling, filling the room with dimmed light that cascaded over the misty hills. The estate's walls were cold, its occupants bundling with layers to defend themselves from sickness. You’ve grown used to it, but your staff still wandered around with pink noses and thick shawls. 

One member of the staff, Miss Aleena, was one of the few who remained. Her grey eyes regarded you with warmth, wrinkles and tired smile showing her years. She was slower, yet still refused to rest. She continued with her work day after day, and sometimes kept you company during her downtime. She made her way around your office easily, stepping over thrown books and crumpled pieces of paper. All to set a wine glass on your desk, though what filled it was not wine. 

“Three animals today, my lady. Deer, fox, or rabbit?”

You hum, still gazing at the rolling hills. The glass was held together with silver framing, a thick set of curtains hanging from the ceiling and pooling on the carpeted floor. Holding out your hand, you wait until she picks the glass back up to set it into your hand. The surface was painted with flowers, all faded. You lift it to your nose, sniffing once before grimacing. 

“Rabbit.”

She chuckles, reaching out to tap your cheek. You almost wave her away, but these were moments you rarely receive. To have another person touch you, human warmth was like no other. 

Spinning in your chair, you set the glass back down and slouch, rubbing harshly at your eyes. Miss Aleena makes her way to the chair that sits in front of your desk, slowly descending with a huff. She doesn’t say anything, rarely does. Instead, she lets you fill the silence with whatever words you want. Her hair, salt and pepper, was pulled back from her slim face. Grey eyes comforting as they watch you, never judging. 

“I’m not thirsty.”

You were lying, of course. The churning of your stomach was the dead give away, and she raises an eyebrow at you in retort. Slowly, you reach out to grab the glass once more, raising it to take a small sip. 

Blood tastes different with each animal. Rabbit, for example, was sweeter than deer, yet more tart than fox. It starts as a treat, warm and inviting, until you swallow and are greeted with the kick at the end. Wincing, you groan. Shivering at the taste, you take another small drink. It was never good to drink too much at a time, you’ve learned the hard way. 

“I don’t know why the gods forsake me,” you grumble, “I ask for a simple thing. One thing, yet time and time again I’m rejected and turned away. Something is always blocking this path, and for whatever reason, I cannot get past it.”

“Maybe it’s something you shouldn't pursue,” her timid voice responds, and you shake your head. Center of your lips stained red, you cross your legs. 

“Do you know what it's like to live for 800 years?”

She smiles, “I know what it’s like for 73.”

“Its a living torture,” you smirk, and she hums. “I cannot sleep, cannot eat or drink what you do. I cannot fall in love, I cannot feel happiness-”

“And why is that, my lady?”

You huff, chest squeezing, “it is a fleeting thing, happiness, love. A human can love their entire life, and feel fulfilled by the end. Humans have the pleasure of an ending, while I live in a purgatory specifically designed for me. No matter how hard I try, I simply cannot die.”

You take another drink, looking over the small pile of papers still left on your desk. Requests and letters signed with black ink mock you, the dates in the top corners taunting. 

“Tell me, then,” she requests, “when you’ve fallen in love.”

The question makes your shoulders tense, flashes of memories blinking past your eyes. Years upon years of memories, yet they all boil down to moments in your life. 

“I-” you clear your throat, “I can’t remember what love feels like. I suppose feelings fade with time,” you look down into your glass, your reflection staring back. 

Miss Aleena sighs, “my dear, I may not be as old as you, but I am still old. I know what love looks like,” she stands from her chair, brushing off the front of her dress. 

“Indulge me, what does it look like?”

“It looked like that gleam in your eyes, my lady.”

Head tilting, you watch a smile creep across her face. Chuckling, you rub your thumb along the top of your hand, cold as always. Miss Aleena reached out, gesturing to your almost empty cup, “would you like a refill?”

You shake your head, and watch as she turns to make your way back to the door. Spinning, you turn your gaze back to the misty hills, how the sun tries to break through, and tries to wrap a golden blanket around the trees that border your land. 

“Maybe I should just have you find me someone.”

Miss Aileena laughed, old and tired, she sounded like her mother, “I think that’s a terrible idea.”

“How so? You’re a great observer, and you follow my instructions without retort!” 

“I don’t know much about science, my lady. If I were to bring someone in, you would find something inadequate.”

She was right, and you knew it. 

The door opens, and a male voice clears his throat. You almost groan, instead you rest your elbow on the arm of your chair, supporting your head on a clenched fist. 

“My lady?” It was Benedict, who’s voice matched his appearance. Silky and smooth, all fine cursive lines that dance across his body. You can hear his smile as he looks at Miss Aleena.

“Ah, hello nana,” he says softly, before the door creaks and he coughs. 

“What is it, Benedict?” Nails tapping, your head rolls to rest against the chair. His body straightens, green eyes roaming over your desk. His cheeks were pink, and he sniffled before speaking.

“You have a visitor- I told him you didn’t take guests, but he was very adamant on seeing you.”

Your tongue lightly grazes your canines, feeling the sharp points. You can barely remember the last time you used them, opting for your kitchen to hunt and gather your drinks. 

They, your hunter, would leave in the morning when the dew still clung to the grass. They’d gather enough animals to last the following week, put them in the freezer, and then go back to their home in the village. Of course, you offered housing here, but it only took them one look at the vine covered rocks to politely decline. 

“How adamant?” You tease, hearing Benedict huff, his clothes rustling.

“He said he wouldn’t leave until he had an audience with you.”

“Hm,” you muse, using your foot to sway the chair back and forth slightly. 

“Let him in, then”

Benedict nods, shaggy hair falling in front of his eyes as he backs from the room, heavy steps receding down the hallway. Miss Aileen’s heels click across the wood as she crosses the room, picking books up from the floor and setting them gently back onto your desk. 

It takes a moment, but soon you can hear the incoming tap of a cane, and the hushed voices from beyond your closed door. 

Hair raising, you refuse to turn in your chair as the door opens once more. Tensing, you can feel your chest clench until his voice tears through the room- assertive and commanding. 

“You have to have a certain kind of nerve to accuse me of not being qualified enough to work under you.”

Your hand drops from your chin, hanging over the arm. Finger running across the tips of your nails, you refrain from sighing.

“What are you doing here, Viktor?”

“I simply find it unacceptable to push me aside and call me unqualified to work under you simply because of my status and ability to do what is required,” his tone is accusatory, anger surrounding him. Slowly, you find your eyebrows furrowing. Your head drops to the side, and you look at him from over your shoulder, chair slightly turned as to not hurt your neck. 

His cheeks are flushed, eyebrows pinched together in anger as he leans against his cane. Miss Aileen stands to the side, eyes wide as she looks at him. His golden eyes falter when they meet yours, flickering between your dazzling gaze. When you turn the chair more, the sun that barely peaks through the clouds catches them, red shining through briefly. 

It makes him shiver, how predatory your gaze was. 

“Miss Aileen, please give us the room,” you don’t break eye contact, instead turning the chair so you face him fully. It gives him the charm to look you over, from your relaxed attire to the red tint that stains your lips. 

Makeup? No, he thinks, your attire betrays the need for makeup. You were home, relaxed enough to not find the need for it. Eyes flicker to the desk, landing on the almost empty glass. 

Ah, the wine. 

“Say again?”

He huffs, feeling that anger flare in his stomach and he stands tall once more, why was he here? He didn’t quite know, following that gut instinct to follow you and prove that he was right for the role he still knew nothing about. 

 “I have worked too hard to get where I am today to simply be pushed aside due to prejudice from a person whom I’ve never even met-“

“You think prejudice is the reason for my rejection?” There’s a flicker of disappointment, a sadness that festers behind it. You sigh, rubbing at your eyes before sitting up in your chair, “Viktor, listen,” your voice is softer this time, sharp edge dulled. 

“You want to create things, bring goodness to the world. My task is the complete opposite-“

“How can you come to that conclusion when you haven’t even asked me for my opinion on the matter? For a scientist, you come to conclusions rather abruptly.”

Shoulders sagging, you reach out and grasp your wine glass, the thick liquid-

Thick liquid?

Viktor watches as you take a sip, the sides of the glass stained a deep ruby red as it settles back at the bottom. It’s crimson, shining in the light and the true answer to what sits in the glass whispers itself in his ear softly. 

“Is that blood?”

You smile, a sad tilt of lips, raising the glass in a congratulation before setting it back down. You push yourself from the chair, silk gown dancing around you like a breeze, it makes it seem like you are floating, gliding your way around the desk to lean against it. 

“If it is? What would you do, Viktor?”

His breath catches in his throat, and he mulls over what he could possibly say. 

“If I told you, my life goes against the natural order, would you believe me?”

Your hands brace behind you, feet crossing at the ankles as you regard him with a glint in your eyes. You're assessing him. Watching as his eyes flicker around you, watch as he tenses, jaw clenching. Watch as his hand grips the pommel of his cane just a little tighter, how he leans away from you. 

“Since you think yourself qualified, I’ll give you my symptoms and you come up with a theory as to what I am cursed with,” you spit the words. Viktor finds himself nodding, going against his own natural order as you push away from the desk. Making your way to the tall book shelf that lined the walls, your fingers skin across the fabric spines of book after book. Shoes muted by the carpet, you move silently. 

“I cannot sleep, I cannot get sick, from what you’ve just noticed; I drink blood.” Slowing, you curl your finger around the top of a book, pulling it gently from its place. It was almost fully black, silver edging flaking off. A red piece of ribbon, frayed at the end, was hanging from the top edge. A book mark ready for use, he guessed. 

“I live longer than normal humans, and I cannot die.”

Silence, and you refrain from moving from the wall of books. You seem to fit in perfectly, a timeless beauty. Yet, as he looks away to gaze back at the cup of blood, he sighs. 

“Common, Viktor,” you whisper, teasing, “you were so vocal earlier. What happened?”

“I shouldn’t have come here,” he murmurs, taking a step back because now you’re right in front of him. Holding that book out for him to take, “no, you shouldn’t have. Now, you have to face the consequences of your own pride.”

Hesitant, he takes the book, looking over the cover and when he registers the words sewn into the fabric he almost laughs.

“A vampire?”

“Mm,” you hum, crossing your arms as you make your way back to your desk, leaning back. He tilts the book, letting it fall open to a random page. He briefly reads over it, pictures hand drawn, cursive words in a foreign language underneath. The paper was tinged yellow, wrinkled on the edges like it’d been thrown into a bath of water and then dried again. 

“An immortal scientist passing down knowledge through their apprentices, what an ambition,” he mocks your words, snapping the book shut and looking back up. You’re frowning, and after turning your upper body to grab the glass, you twist it to allow the little remaining liquid to coat the sides. Faded blue flowers in front of a wave of blood, you don't look at him anymore, shoulders slumped. 

“I don’t teach them, I simply have a task for them to complete. In return, they’re given access to my abundance of gathered knowledge.”

“And what is this task I’m so unqualified for, exactly?”

“Viktor,” you sigh, eyes closing. He can feel his chest squeeze, and he breathes deeply before continuing, “how do you know I’m unwilling to help you?”

“Help me? Viktor, if you had the opportunity to create death, would you?”

“Death?” His eyebrows furrow, and when you nod he can slowly see the pieces falling into place. The book feels heavy in hand, his thumb gently rubbing across the indented words that title the front. 

The Known Ways Of Vanquishing A Vampire

“I want to die, and I cannot touch the tools that will create it. I need someone to do it for me, so I’ll ask again; if you had the opportunity to create death, would you?”

His brain tells him to decline. His whole life, he’s sworn to help people survive. To bring them longer life, to cure them of the hindrance that plagues them. Yet, his gut urges him to look at you. To see what you truly looked like, he can see your fatigue. He can see how your shoulders slouch, how slow you really move. To others, you were a monster. A demon who comes at night to drink their bodies dry. To him, in the moment, he simply saw a woman cursed. Forever to wander, never to truly rest. 

“Are you suffering?” His voice is quiet. Lips lifting, you nod once, “yes, Viktor.”

Fingers tapping once against his cane, his gut overrides his brain, and he speaks his decision into the air with a stern voice. 

“Then I will help you.” 

Although there’s hesitation clinging to you, you speak with a soft voice, “let’s get started then, shall we?”

Thinking about what Viktor would need. Since the big growth of Hextech, anything that he needed would be something that he could buy without any worry about the cost. 

He was doing so well that figuring out what you would give him was just not working out. 

Even on Christmas he was working, a thing you had made very clear you loathed. 

He needed to rest more. 

He needed to take a break more.

Ah ha! 

It was at that moment you knew exactly what you were going to do for him this Christmas. 

You worked everything out with Jayce, making it clear that there was no way that you were going to allow Viktor to come into work early on Christmas of all days. The two of you worked out a plan on how everything would work the next day so that he would finally take a day off. 

That night, after pampering the inventor, stuffing him full with dinner as well as alcohol and a thorough massage, you made sure to go above and beyond in the bedroom with the man to fully tire him out. 

The next morning went perfectly. 

Without the alarm being set up, which you purposely turned off, as well as Viktor being completely worn out the night before, that meant he didn’t wake up till well past the time he normally would be up. 

It had been a rare treat to watch him sleep, enjoying the stressless expression on his face, the lack of tension on his brow was a blessing. 

Without meaning too, you found yourself giving into the temptation to cover his face with butterfly light kisses. God, he was just so perfect in your eyes. 

“Wasn’t last night enough for you? Planning on pleasuring me to death?” 

His voice was gravely from both the sleep and the events from last night, and it instantly warmed your soul as a lopsided smile appeared to greet you. Everything would have been perfect if his eyes didn’t slowly blink open to then widen in panic. 

“What time is it? Oh Janna, I’m gonna be late..” he started, already beginning to get up before you placed the message that Jayce had sent earlier that morning in his hands.

“Jayce said there was a gas leak in the building. Nobody is allowed inside till it is given the all clear” You grinned, feeling a little guilty about the fact that you instantly celebrated the look of defeat he was exhibiting. 

“Curses. I seem to have fallen for your plan. Fine fine” He conceded, leaning back against the pillows with a content sigh. 

“You win, my love. I’ll yours for Christmas, whatever you want to do, I’ll do” 

“Anything?”

“Anything”  

The look of defeat had morphed into a sappy grin, a hand coming up to cradle your cheek gently. 

“Well then” You started, moving to curl up against his side once more. 

-------- -------- --------

It felt like your body had died and was reborn, your limbs becoming jelly like and entirely way too heavy to lift. As your mind began the incredibly long process of coming back to reality, Viktor’s soft touch was felt as he carefully moved your hair away from your face. 

It had felt amazing - better than amazing! 

Even as Viktor went through the steps of making sure you were alright; asking if you were hurt, sore, anything negative at all, you found yourself smiling tiredly. However, as he tried to pull free of you, your soft whines quickly put a stop to that. 

Conceding to wait, remaining inside as he softened, you were softly pulled to rest on top of his chest. 

His heartbeat was so soothing, the steady rhythm bringing you nothing as peace with each pulse. 

“I suppose that went well” Normally, anyone would be thrilled to hear something like that when trying something new. 

However, the way his tone hadn’t been as upbeat as it normally was had a slow panic starting to build. 

“You had fun?” 

In your tired state, your mind screamed at you to be the best you could be. Even though your head only softly nodded, it took a great deal of effort. Which, judging from the soft hum that you received in response, was what he was looking for. 

“You were so good for me-” 

Ah, finally. The praise that always created a warm and fuzzy feeling, leaving you feeling important to someone else. You rarely received this feeling, so when Viktor ended these intimate moments together with you by saying it, you always felt so complete. 

“-though, I will need to go soon” He muttered. 

Something wasn’t right. 

He had never been so quick to leave, never at any point when you had been intimate together had he not remained the night. Had he not had fun? Did he not like it? If he didn’t, they didn’t need to do it again -  but why wasn’t he just saying that? Did you mess up? Did you ruin things between you somehow? 

A short kiss was placed on the top of your head, his breath being felt as he sighed against your skin. 

“For now-” He paused, leaning his head back. It felt like he was wrestling with how he wanted to word his thoughts- the deep seeded panic only growing with every second. 

“I suppose I can indulge or…appease you for a little while” 

The feeling of being a burden came crashing down, it becoming a weight that nearly smothered you. Indulge? Appease? Is this how he felt about the intimate scene you had just gone through? 

Looking back, he had seemed excited when the two of you discussed it. Yet now? Now he almost seemed like he had forced himself to do something he didn’t like simply because he knew you would like it. 

And fuck, did it leave you feeling like the worst human being. 

When he moved you over - you made sure to use all the effort you could to help

When he pulled out, even though it hurt from how sore you were - you held back any whimper of pain

And when he got dressed - you watched silently without a word of protest 

Stay.

Please stay.

You wanted to say. 

Please don’t leave me. 

Yet, no words were spoken as he finished getting all his things together. With a brief kiss to your cheek, he was up and heading for the door. 

“...V-Vik?” 

Your voice was so soft, barely even a whisper. You wanted to ask him to stay, to say that you felt like something was wrong. You never felt this nervous or panicked after a scene - something had to be wrong? Right? Viktor would know what to do, he always knew what to do. 

Yet as you watched him pause, let out a tired sigh as he shoulders fell, any tiny flicker of hope died. You didn’t know it, you were still so new to everything, Viktor had always been so careful with you - but you were experiencing your first full blown subdrop. 

You were a burden to him. You could see it in his eyes as he turned to look at you with a tired and forced smile. So that when he asked to know what you needed, you simply whispered a ‘goodnight’. 

When the door closed, it felt like the world around you froze. 

As you laid there, thoughts that had been small slowly grew larger and larger till they felt like monsters surrounding you. No matter how much you tried to reframe the thoughts, you were too tired to really fight them off. 

He thinks you're sick for wanting what you did. 

He’s disgusted by that side of you. 

He felt like he had to do it to ‘appease’ you. 

You are a burden. 

He doesn’t love you. 

He is going to leave you. 

In a panic you reached for your phone, becoming light headed from how quickly you shot up to reach for your phone. You had to fix things, you had to make sure things didn’t end. 

The message was short, even though it took over ten minutes to write. Constantly you had written, erased, and re-wrote so many messages before finally just hitting send. 

“I’m so sorry. I love you”

-------- -------- --------

As the message popped up on Viktor’s phone, he paused his walking to read over it multiple times. 

You were sorry? 

Why on earth were you sorry? 

Judging from the short message and the apology he could only assume that you were- his mind finally had it all click into place - depressed. 

Pure horror shot through him as he turned on his heels and rushed back towards your apartment. 

He had completely forgotten about the aftercare portion of what the two of you were supposed to do. How on earth had he forgotten such a vital step?! 

Well, he knew why. The scene gave him so many ideas that he had wanted to quickly get to either his own apartment or his lab so that he could record his thoughts. He had been thinking so much into the future he forgot about the now. 

Oh god. 

He nearly dropped the keys multiple times as he used the key you gave him months ago to get inside. 

As he entered, he found you still on the bed, but with tears streaming down your cheeks. 

Quickly kicking his shoes off, he was back in the bed in a flash. Pulling you towards him, shushing your soft whimpering as he held you close. He whispered apology after apology for not remembering their vital step. 

Early on when this dynamic became a part of your relationship, you had made him aware of your low self esteem. He was aware of your nervousness of not being good enough and now looking back at what was said he could easily see how his little teasing comment could easily have been misunderstood. 

“My love, you were perfect. Better than anything I could have imagined. I was so excited about future scenes that I completely forgot about correctly ending this one….forgive me, sweet one.” He whispered, running gentle circles on your back. 

Exhausted not only from the scene, but now from crying, it wasn’t long before you were asleep in his arms. Tuckered out from all the emotions that had raged within you. 

As he looked down at your form, he already had a plan on how he would take care of you when you awoke. 

Relationships are built on trust.

All of your previous relationships hadn’t managed to follow that simple known fact. Whether it be that they were cheating on you in secret or they lied about key aspects of their personality. Seriously, who pretends to have read a book that you were interested in and pretends to give a review on it when the book in question wasn’t even released yet? Then they had the nerve to get upset when you called them out on lying? Ridiculous.

So when you had met Viktor, you found his honesty to a fault refreshing. He had been rather harsh of you when you had first met him, instantly having some criticism about your work in a class that the two of you shared. However, over the course of the rest of your degrees, you have come to greatly appreciate that side of him.

No matter the situation or how hard the question was, you knew that Viktor would always give you an honest answer.

Did your paper sound silly?

Yes, like a child wrote it.

Did the dress look good on you?

The shape, yes, but the color looked horrible with your skin tone.

It was why when he awkwardly confessed that he loved you, you knew that there wasn’t any weird hidden agenda with him. He wasn’t trying to date you so that he could have sex with you, he wasn’t doing it because of a dare or some other stupid reason - you trusted him to mean it.

And as Hextech slowly started to grow, your relationship started to deal with the classic issues that you were expecting. Even back when the two of you were students at the academy, he had always been a workaholic. It was still an ongoing issue between the two of you, but it was something that you had understood would be a part of your relationship before you entered it.

What you hadn’t expected was how he would react to the attention that Hextech was receiving. When the two of you were students, he had always said that he didn’t have the time or patience to deal with people that appeared like they didn’t have a brain. If someone was simply wanting to talk to him so that he would help with their grades or because they wanted him to help them out with Professor Heimerdinger, Viktor was quick to end the relationship.

So as you took in the scene before you, you hadn’t been that nervous. Across the room during another one of the galas that Hextech was having, you saw Jayce and Viktor schmoozing with a few of the wealthiest members of society. With their own company growing larger, other tech and even some marketing companies were swooping in to attempt to be friendly with the current craze.

It was as the owners of the company that spoke with Jayce, while the men and women that had come as arm candy were amusing themselves by flirting it up with the other half of the tech company.

You had been about to head over to help save him from having to talk with them before you took in the expression that was currently on your lover's face. From Viktor’s smirk, it was clear that there was an amusement there and not the disdain that you were used to seeing when he had dealt with similar situations.

So, you have just decided to enjoy your own time.

As the two of you were driving back to your shared apartment, you couldn’t help but want to tease him after having found his conversations adorable. After all, he had always made it seem like he thought those interactions were like pulling teeth.

“You were quite the heartbreaker today, flirting with all those people today”

You had expected him to scoff, blush awkwardly or to blush in embarrassment. What you had not expected at all was for him to not even react, his eyes remaining on the road as he replied.

“I have no idea what you are going on about. If you are referring to Jayce and I talking with investors, I honestly find your statement a little insulting”

That hurt.

The rest of the ride was in silence, and as you headed inside, you couldn’t help the gut feeling that something wasn’t right as he was quick to pull out his phone to type away reply after reply. At first you had assumed it was Jayce, that was until you had received a text from that very same man asking for you to ask Viktor to call him as he wasn’t responding to his message.

Everything felt way too much like previous relationships…but this was Viktor - you told yourself over and over again. He was different, if he wanted out of the relationship he would have just said so…wouldn’t he?

That night, even with him being wrapped around you, there was just a nagging feeling that something wasn’t right.

Over the next few months things just continued to not add up. It had been on another night that Viktor was staying late at the lab that you started going through his social media posts, finding that a few months ago he had suddenly been a ton more active.

Where before he hadn’t been very willing to post anything on his social media about his personal life, he was suddenly posting selfies with himself and Jayce, himself and his inventions and….wait.

You felt your heart stop, you started seeing more and more pictures of himself being extremely close with different attractive men and women. As you flipped through picture after picture, some faces started to be seen repeatedly.

The two of them clearly at a party of some sort that you hadn’t even known about, at the beach with a large group of people that you had seen many times on his feed before, and more. But it was the last one that was posted not even an hour ago that left you feeling cold and numb.

As you lay there in the bed that you shared with the man, in the apartment that had both of your names on the lease, you saw a photo of Viktor taking a selfie with a woman that you had seen multiple times at the beach. Clearly from the background there were others present, but that wasn’t what hurt you the most. Yes, it hurt to know he was hiding these social events from you, but that wasn’t what shook you.

The woman was kissing his cheek.

And Viktor was smiling brightly, brighter than he had in a very long time.

It not only hurt that he had allowed such a moment to take place, but that he had decided that posting it was the best idea. Already, in the comments you were seeing people commenting about how cute the ‘couple’ looked, asking how long the two had been together. As of now there wasn’t a response…but honestly, you weren’t sure what would hurt worse. Him responding with a lie or him pretending it wasn’t true.

That night, you packed. Gathering up all your must have items, it wasn’t long before you had all the things that you needed to take with you down in your car.

By the time that Viktor would get him, he would find your stuff gone.

That night, phone call after phone call was sent to voicemail. After a while you simply turned the damn thing off, not wanting to talk to him. If he wanted to play this game, you were happy to beat him at it.

At the gala that was scheduled for that coming weekend, you made sure to dress as well as you could. Your outfit was loud and bold, the purpose was to turn as many heads as you could.

And as you headed into the gala solo, it did just that as you watched as conversations stopped so that men and women alike could turn and stare.

That wasn’t even the best part, as you made your way into the room, you caught sight of Viktor whose eyes were wide. Though, as he tried to make his way over to you, his hand coming up to try and get your attention - you made sure to ignore it, opting instead to take the drink from one of the couple of potential dance partners that had quickly circled around you.

You managed to enjoy the first half of the event without Viktor interrupting. Dancing with different partners, you were for once allowing yourself to get tipsy and have fun at these things instead of worrying about if Viktor was alright or not.

It was when the dance ended and you found yourself face to face with said man that you felt your buzz hit the hardest- feeling how your body was reacting just a smidge slower to your instructions than it normally would.

“Where on earth have you been?” Viktor hissed softly, his hand coming out to quickly take hold of your arm, it being clear from how he was holding you up that it was more so because he wanted to keep you standing than keeping you there.

“Like you care”

“What?” The confusion on his face was insulting, leading to a scoff slipping free before you had the chance to stop it.

“Seriously Viktor? You're confused on why I might be upset and leave you? I didn’t take you for a fool but I suppose I didn’t know anything about you after all.”

Not caring that people were starting to look over at the two of you, not caring that you were both standing in the middle of the room where people were trying to dance- being in the way and yet neither of you were moving.

Pulling out your phone, it was easy for you to hold it up for him to see.

“Like how I would have never believed that you would cheat on me with not one person but multiple, or that you would lie to me about where you were. Weren’t you staying late in the office the day of this picture?”

You watched as Viktor’s eyes started to search the room in a panic, seeming to be looking for someone as he spoke.

“Wait, you..you misunderstand. Jayce has been, people told him that I was the reason that Hextech was starting to stagnant. That I was unapproachable…” He trailed off, his hands coming up to anxiously pull at his tie as he panicked with just how many eyes were on him in the moment.

“Please…can we talk privately?”

“Like hell!” Your voice carried farther than you had expected, hearing the music come to a stop as now the whole gala was being put on pause for the fiasco that was taking place between the two of you.

However, now Viktor only seemed to shrink more, his eyes moving to stare intently down at your feet. His voice came out soft, murmured and stuttered - just like anytime he was asked to give a presentation.

“Those people in the pictures I’ve posted were paid to be in them with me. J-Jayce thought…he thought it would be a good idea to s-stage it like I was p-popular, approachable.” As he reached out to take your hand, you didn’t pull away, allowing him to squeeze it as he continued to speak.

“I never once flirted with anyone intentionally, you are….were…are?” He trailed off, silently biting his lip before his eyes slowly raised to meet yours.

“You are the most special person in my life. I wanted to keep you off that god awful site before of how rude the people on there can be. It made Sky, one of the girls we hired for the pictures, cry from how harshly they made fun of her because of her bone structure…I would never want to see them attack you for anything. Not you. Never you.”

Murmuring was heard throughout the room, reminding you of exactly where the two of you were currently standing. Which, judging from how quickly Viktor’s face was darkening to a deep pink, he had forgotten about as well.

As you turned, you had been about to lead him to a more private place to talk- only to have him panic, thinking you were leaving.

“Please come home! Please! I can’t…I can’t sleep without you, I have hardly been able to eat from stress over if you are okay….please…come home. I’ll tell Jayce I refuse to do the social stuff. I’ll…I’ll do whatever..”

Instead of being gentle like you had wished, you ended up nearly dragging the man out of the building- heading towards your car. Because of the amount of alcohol you had drank, he ended up needing to drive the two of you back to the apartment - helping you make your way up the stairs and inside. All the while being nothing but gentle and patient.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?!” You finally broke, allowing the pent up frustration out as all those eyes weren’t on you anymore. “I asked about it and you didn’t explain yourself when the topic was relevant!

The man only flinched, nodding softly as had a hard time looking up at you.

“I was hoping I would be able to convince Jayce to leave me alone. That it wouldn’t be anything you needed to worry about. I hated all the photo shoots, the people touching me - god, I nearly scrubbed my face raw from that kiss on the cheek..” He muttered, nervous energy practically oozing out of him as he spoke. And yet, you saw only the truthfulness in him as he spoke.

Reaching out, your hands were soon cradling his cheeks to direct his eyes to yours. As you inspected him, you saw indeed the one side of his face was a tad swollen.

“You silly silly man”

Leaning forward, you pressed a soft kiss to the inflamed skin and hummed softly at the shutter that traveled down his spine. Letting go, you moved your hands off his cheeks so that you could wrap your arms snuggly around his waist.

“I’ll handle Jayce. I don’t like that style of pictures.” You leaned up to press soft kisses all over his face. “Besides, the pictures of you and your inventions were nothing but adorable and perfect. Jayce can be the social butterfly, I will put my foot down with him about him pushing you to be something you aren’t”

In no time at all, Viktor was moosh in your touch. Leaning into every kiss, his eyes closed as he sunk into your touch. His own arms wrapping themselves around your frame to pull you even closer towards him.

“Yes please, Solnyshko, please end his torture…sweet Janna, you are my greatest treasure and joy”

It was hard to hold back a chuckle at his reaction, allowing him to seek out as much comfort from you as possible.

“Will you help me move my stuff back from my parent’s place?” All you received was a hastily nod, before he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck.

“Just come back home…please. These past few days have been torture without you, my love”