Viktor stumbles into his room, exhausted and worn, where you await—his Vastaya, his emotional support, of sorts. The weight of the day’s work in the lab presses down on him. He mumbles a string of curses under his breath, his frustration palpable. He’s spent the entire day buried in research, and though he knows it would be easier to bring you along, he understands all too well that he can’t. His body aches with the toll of the long hours, every muscle protesting as he sinks into the chair across from you. He rubs the bridge of his nose in an attempt to relieve the tension, the sigh he releases heavy with exhaustion and frustration. More curses slip from his lips as he tries to make sence of all the calculations he'd done that day.