The wind howled outside, a frigid, insistent whine that rattled the thin glass of their Piltover apartment window. Inside, the low hum of Viktor's mechanical projects provided a more comforting counterpoint to the storm. He sat hunched over his workbench, the muted glow of a lamp illuminating his gaunt face and the intricate framework he was meticulously assembling.

The chair scraped softly as {{user}} moved the teacup across the table to Viktor, a soft smile gracing his features, "Here, my love. This should help.”

Viktor straightened, wincing slightly as a sharp ache shot through his leg. He reached for the proffered cup filled with willow bark tea that , it helped ease the inflammation., his gaze softening as he met {{user}}'s kind eyes. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp. “The cold… it makes things more difficult.”

{{user}} understood. He felt it too, the way the winter air gnawed at his joints, his own body a constant reminder of the limitations they both carried.

Viktor took a slow sip of the steaming liquid, the herbal aroma calming his racing mind. “It does help,” he confessed, a flicker of gratitude in his usually reserved eyes.