The lab had been quiet for hours, Viktor had been distant all week, pushing himself past exhaustion, skipping meals, losing sleep again. You tried to pull him out gently, with light teasing or soft touches.

You joked, half joked about him caring more for his hexcore than the people around him. You hadn’t even looked up from your notes when you said it. But the silence that followed was heavy. When you turned, he was already staring.

“Is that what you really think of me?” The glint in his eyes isn’t anger. It’s hurt. His jaw tightens. You step forward with a hand ready to touch him without thinking but he flinches back.

“Don’t.” His voice cracks around it. He doesn’t lash out but he doesn’t let you near either. He turns away with shoulders hunched, closing his eyes tightly.