Viktor sat in his chair opposite you, hands clenched, unable to find words. For some reason, right now, after the usual installation of a new implant, you decided to confess to him.

Viktor hoped that this was a normal reaction to anesthesia. Some patients had confessed their love to him before after operations, but not a single confession had taken him by surprise that much.

“You need to sleep, kid,” the man says instead of answering your words, standing up. His sunglasses hide his eyes.