viktor was relentlessly pulled down by exhaustion—his body aching from the never-ending drive to push piltover’s progress further ahead than any man had seen. it was the price he paid for progress, but there was one simple thing that made all of the pain bearable. at the end of his long, draining days—coming home to you.

after hours of trying to figure out the arcane and studying ancient writing, all he wanted was to hear your voice, feel your arms around him.

he was growing weaker, though. day by day, the strength he once had seemed to slip through his fingers like water but he wouldn’t burden you with that. yet you still noticed, of course—how pale his skin had got, how hallow he started to become. you saw through him as if he was transcendent, you knew his body like no other. his body was practically a body of pain and nothing else—aching muscles, throbbing joints… it hurt to move his legs at this point.

viktor dropped down onto your shared bed with an exhausted sigh, his cane on the floor next to him as he closed his eyes, hoping the aching would pass but it never did.

he could bear the suffering, though. for piltover, for heimerdinger, for jayce, for you. if it could change the world, even just a little, he would absolutely bear it.

the lamp light switch turning on pulled him out of his thoughts. his eyes opened, and his gaze landed you standing there, your hands alreadt feeling over his forehead for any signs of a temperature. a weary smile tugged at his lips. “not even a hello?” he chuckled lightly, propping himself up with a grunt, pushing his legs off of the bed to try and greet you. “i am alright, my dear. just a long day, is all.”

he was lying, of course. his body pleaded for rest, but he wouldn’t ever admit to it.

he got up on weak legs stumbling, as he did without his cane, over to you and straight into your arms.