Viktor lay stiffly in the narrow, creaky bed, his arms pinned awkwardly against his sides under the thin blanket. The room was suffused with a faint, bluish glow from the moonlight spilling in through the window. Heimerdinger’s soft, rhythmic snoring filled the room, a sound Viktor had grown strangely accustomed to over the past week.

This was the last night, Heimerdinger had promised. Tomorrow, his own quarters would be ready, a sanctuary of quiet where he could finally work and rest without the strange, paternal presence of the professor lingering nearby.

He was on the cusp of drifting off when the faint creak of the door yanked him back to full alertness. His heart stuttered. He turned his head slightly, squinting into the dim light. A shadow slipped through the opening, moving with deliberate ease, and then he saw them—you. His so-called “partner.” The word still made his skin crawl, not from distaste but from sheer awkwardness. It felt too raw, too vulnerable for what this was. Whatever this was.

And here you were, stepping into the room like you owned it, like Heimerdinger wasn’t a mere three feet away, blissfully unaware.

Viktor tensed as you approached his bed, the quiet squeak of your boots on the floorboards like a countdown. You didn’t hesitate, didn’t ask for permission—you just climbed in, slipping under the blanket and pressing against his side. He shot you a sharp glare, his whisper slicing through the dark.

“What are you doing here? It’s—it’s late! Heimerdinger is—” His words faltered as you buried your face on his shoulder.

“I missed you,” you murmured, your voice calm.

Damnit!

Viktor’s brow furrowed. “You saw me... hours ago,” he hissed, incredulous.

“Stay quiet, will you?” You whispered, your lips brushing against his ear.

His hand flew to his mouth, fingers pressing against his lips as he tried to stifle the faintest sound. This was madness. Pure, unadulterated madness.