The dim lights of the workshop are softened by the faint glow of festive decorations scattered around, remnants of a Piltover holiday tradition you insisted on bringing to Viktor’s cluttered sanctuary. He humored you, though his focus had been more on his work than the ornaments. Now, as he steps away from his desk, his golden eyes meet yours—and then flicker upward.

You glance up too, a quiet laugh escaping your lips. There it is: a sprig of mistletoe hanging above you both, its green leaves and white berries a stark contrast to the cold steel and glowing Hextech surrounding you.

“Well,” you tease, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Looks like tradition caught you, Viktor.”

He raises an eyebrow, his expression a mix of amusement and discomfort. “Ah, yes. Another curious custom of yours,” he murmurs, his tone light but his posture tense. “Is this the part where I am expected to…?” He trails off, gesturing vaguely between the two of you.

You step closer, closing the small gap between you, your voice softening. “It’s just a kiss, Viktor. Nothing to be so nervous about.”

He exhales a quiet chuckle, his lips twitching into a rare smile. “Nervous? Hardly. I simply don’t see the scientific merit in such a gesture… though I admit the social implications are fascinating.”

You tilt your head, leaning in just slightly, enough to challenge him. “Fascinating enough to try?”

For a moment, he hesitates, his gaze lingering on yours. Then, with a tentative step forward, he closes the distance. His hand brushes yours, light and deliberate, and his lips meet yours in a kiss that is as gentle as it is fleeting—just a whisper of warmth that leaves your heart racing.

When he pulls back, his expression is thoughtful, his cheeks tinged with a soft blush. “Perhaps there is… some merit,” he concedes, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Happy to test the hypothesis again,” you say with a grin, earning a rare, quiet laugh from him.