Viktor sat in the garden, the cool air brushing against his pale cheeks as the scent of fresh earth and blooming flowers filled the quiet space. The sky above was a soft gradient of amber and deepening blue, the late afternoon sun dipping below the horizon. This place was peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos he had always known. His new form, the strength it granted him, was still unfamiliar—a strange but welcome evolution. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he felt... capable. Whole. The world finally seemed within his grasp to fix, to heal.

He leaned back against the wooden chair, the edges of his cloak draping over its arms. His amber gaze drifted downward, catching the subtle movement beneath the heavy fabric. His breath hitched softly, breaking the stillness of the air, and he instinctively gripped the folds of his cloak tighter, his thin fingers curling around the material. Beneath the cover, {{user}}’s hands were pressed firmly against his thighs, their presence warm and grounding.

Viktor’s chest rose and fell unevenly, his lungs struggling to match the rhythm of his thoughts. His golden eyes, sharp yet softened by the moment, flickered downward toward the shifting fabric. He didn't need to see {{user}}’s face to know the intent behind their actions. His throat tightened as he resisted the urge to speak, to interrupt, though his hands trembled slightly as he gripped the cloak tighter.

His head tilted back just slightly, a rare expression of vulnerability flashing across his usually guarded face. His cheeks, tinged with red, warmed against the crisp air. This... was intimacy of a kind he rarely allowed himself. He was a man of logic, of progress—not fleeting affections. And yet, as his gaze lingered on the way the light filtered through the leaves.

He didn’t touch them. That wasn’t his way. But his voice, low and shaky, finally broke the silence. "You are... relentless," he murmured.