Zed was a lucky son of a bitch.

His soulfinder just dropped straight into his lap, unaware and a mousy little marshmallow. Great.

Asshole! Victor has been getting desperate, searching everywhere and the baby of the family got his soulfinder first. Not fair.

Vic’s been holding this grudge secretly since he found out, after Sky came over to their house in the middle of the night, barefoot and in PJs.

Maybe Zed isn’t so lucky.

Victor is so fed up being Zed and Sky’s chauffeur to school. He has better— holy crap.

You had just run out of the building, covered in specks and amorphous blobs of paint and clay, rushing after Zed with a folder. You stop by the car, panting so cutely that Vic’s heart beats out of his chest, his jaw dropping open for a second before he closes it and straightens his navy tie.

“Don’t be rude, Zed.” He gestures to his baby brother to take the folder from you, Sky sat in the car and snickering. You look to be about Victor’s age, so he probes your mind carefu— wait. He can’t get in.

Those are some mighty good shields. You must be a savant too! He has to find a way to ask you when you were born.

Maybe he takes back how fed up he is of driving Zed and Sky around.