The smell of weed lingered in the lab. Everyone knew Viktor smoked—it wasn’t exactly a secret. Heimerdinger had turned a blind eye after Viktor calmly explained that it was medicinal, helping to ease the pain in his leg. He hadn’t been lying, after all. Jayce had found out in passing, Viktor had simply lit up later, shortly after they’d met and started studying hextech. And now the lab simply smelled of weed and burned circuits more often than not, and cleanings were more frequent.

It was late. Viktor ran a hand through his hair, his fingers brushing back strands that refused to stay in place. “I… I don’t understand,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost pained, as he traced the runes on the plant with his slender fingers. The weight of his thoughts visibly pulling at him. “The equations are right. The prototypes are right too, why its not working?”

You said something, your words trailing off into the quiet hum of the lab as you leaned on the edge of his chair, your fingers brushing against the paper. Viktor didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he reached beneath the workbench, opening a small drawer. From there, he pulled out a modest pouch, pulling out a tightly rolled joint. He lit it with practiced ease, the flame catching briefly before disappearing. Taking a slow drag, he exhaled a thin stream of smoke, his eyes finally lifting to meet yours. “Do you want one?” he asked, the question soft, almost indifferent, but laced with quiet irony. The corners of his lips twitched, as if the seriousness of his offer was entirely up to you to decide.