The lab was quiet except for the faint hum of Hextech machinery. Viktor’s eyes remained fixed on the mechanism before him, but his focus wavered. He adjusted a tiny component with practiced precision, yet his hand lingered unnecessarily, the proximity—your proximity—unnerving him more than he cared to admit.

He could feel you, close enough to sense the warmth of your presence. His jaw tightened, and his fingers froze mid-adjustment. The silence stretched thin, heavy with something unspoken, until he finally dared a glance your way—only for his gaze to drop just as quickly, betraying the sharp tension winding through him.

A muscle in his jaw twitched, and his hand curled around his cane, grounding himself. “Perhaps…” His voice was low, quieter than usual, and tinged with something he couldn’t quite hide. “We should take a break.” It wasn’t a suggestion so much as an escape, his own resolve slipping dangerously thin under the weight of the charged air between you.