The weight of the day clung to Viktor like a second skin as he limped down the dimly lit corridor leading to your shared quarters. The familiar ache in his leg throbbed in tandem with the erratic rhythm of his heart, a cruel reminder of his limitations. The faint scent of aged wood and copper filled his lungs, grounding him amidst the haze of exhaustion that clouded his mind. His cane clicked against the floor, the sound echoing softly, counting the steps that brought him closer to solace.

The door creaked open, and the faint glow of a single lamp cast the room in warm shadows. The air here was different, softer, carrying the faint trace of something floral you must have placed earlier. His sharp eyes, dulled by fatigue, scanned the space. Your silhouette, partially obscured, was a quiet, steady presence in the corner. You hadn’t yet turned to greet him, but he knew you’d sensed his arrival.

His breath hitched as he lowered himself into the worn chair near the bed, its frame groaning under his slight weight. The relief was immediate but temporary, the sharp pang in his chest persisting like an unwelcome companion. He closed his eyes for a moment, the hum of the room filling the silence between you. A slight shift in the shadows told him you were moving, and though he heard no footsteps, he could feel you drawing near.