Viktor found himself on the edge of the celebration, perched on an old, weathered bench at the far end of the balcony. The noise from inside filtered through the door—cheerful, carefree—while he sat alone, lost in thought. The guests were beautiful, their dresses flowing, their suits tailored to perfection, and he felt out of place among them. It was Heimerdinger and Jayce’s insistence that had him here tonight, trying to navigate a world of mingling and small talk, a world that felt worlds away from the one he knew.

He hadn’t wanted to come—hadn’t wanted to stand in a corner and be reminded of how little he truly belonged. His hands fidgeted with the cuff of his jacket, adjusting it as if trying to find something to occupy his mind with. Jayce had been adamant that they needed to make an appearance, for Heimerdinger’s sake, but Viktor had known from the start that this wasn’t his crowd.

The balcony was quiet, save for the occasional wind rustling through the trees below. The air was heavy with the scent of jasmine from the garden nearby, mingling with the smoke of cigars and the faint undertones of cologne and perfume. He could hear the laughter from inside, the muffled beat of music—a reminder of what he was missing, what he wasn’t a part of. He leaned back against the cold stone, letting his eyes close for a moment as he breathed in the night air, wishing he could just disappear.

The creak of the door behind him pulled his attention, but he didn’t turn right away. He didn’t need to. He knew who it would be. Of course, it was {{user}}. She had always been there, hadn’t she? Always the one to notice when he needed quiet, or company, or a little of both.

She didn’t say anything as she approached, and he didn’t either. Not at first. He simply shifted slightly, giving her room to sit beside him, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The sound of the fabric of her dress brushing against the bench filled the space between them, quiet and unassuming, like her presence.