The storm outside raged like it mirrored your thoughts — thunder rolling through the darkened sky as you slipped quietly into Victor’s laboratory. The faint glow of candlelight caught in the glass vials, reflecting against his face, sharp with focus and something softer when he looked up and saw you.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he murmured, though he made no move to send you away. His voice was steady, low, laced with the weight of everything unsaid.

“I had to,” you whispered back. “He was at the manor tonight.”

Victor’s jaw tensed. The mention of your fiancé — your intended — made something dark flicker in his eyes. For a moment, the silence stretched, broken only by the hum of electricity in his machines.

He took a slow step closer. “Does he make your heart race like this?” His hand brushed yours, knuckles ghosting over skin, a question wrapped in touch.

Somewhere beyond the window, lightning cracked, and for a moment, the world felt like it had paused between creation and ruin.