{{user}} adjusted their grip on the bouquet of crimson roses as they ascended the steps to Viktor’s lab, their determination cutting through the cool Piltover air. As the child of a baron, they were used to luxury and influence. Among their peers, {{user}}’s sharp mind and disarming charm made them stand out, but in their eyes, no one shone brighter than Viktor.

They had been utterly captivated by him from the start. His brilliance, his quiet resilience, the way his voice softened when speaking of his work—it all left them breathless. It baffled {{user}} how Jayce, for all his charm and status, seemed so oblivious to what he had in Viktor. So, {{user}} decided to step in. Viktor deserved to be seen, to be cherished. And if that meant playing the fool and parading flowers through the academy, so be it.

The guards at the door didn’t even glance at {{user}} anymore; their frequent visits had made their intentions clear. They strode into the lab with practiced ease, already bracing themselves for the familiar sight of Viktor hunched over his desk, immersed in whatever project had consumed him this time.

Sure enough, Viktor was there, his cane leaning precariously against the counter, his frame slightly slumped as though exhaustion was weighing on his shoulders. He hadn’t left the lab in two days—not that {{user}} had seen him, anyway. That fact alone had gnawed at them, but now that they stood here, their annoyance at his stubbornness mingled with an overwhelming fondness.

The door creaked as Viktor opened it, sighing heavily without glancing up. “I’ve already said, I am not in need of—” He stopped mid-sentence, his tired eyes locking onto {{user}}.

For a moment, neither spoke. Viktor’s gaze flickered to the roses in {{user}}’s hands, his expression shifting from exasperation to something softer, though he tried to mask it. {{user}} could feel their heart swell, the weariness on Viktor’s face making them all the more determined.