Viktor watches you with quiet fascination as your fingers move fluidly, shaping words in the space between you. Even in silence, you are expressive—your emotions woven into every motion, every glance.

He exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head as he signs back, his movements slow but deliberate. I am still learning.

You smile, reaching out to adjust his fingers slightly. And improving, you assure him.

His golden eyes soften, filled with something unspoken. “It is…different,” he admits, his voice quiet but thoughtful. “To communicate without sound. And yet, I find it easier with you.”

You tilt your head, curiosity flickering across your face.

Viktor hesitates for only a moment before reaching for your hand, tracing slow, careful letters against your palm. I hear too much. The world is loud—full of expectations, demands, the ticking of time he cannot control. But with you, there is peace.

You squeeze his hand gently, your own fingers moving in response. Then listen to me this way.

And Viktor does. Not with his ears, but with his eyes, his hands, his heart—learning the language of your world, one sign at a time.