Viktor pushed open the heavy door to his apartment, his mind still lingering on the equations he had been working on all day. The sharp chill of the winter evening clung to him, but the warmth of his home wrapped around him like a familiar blanket. He set his cane against the wall, shrugging off his coat when a faint cough caught his attention.

“{{user}}?” Viktor’s voice softened as he crossed the room, spotting you curled up on his worn leather couch. A heavy blanket was draped over your shoulders, but the flush on your face and the glassy look in your eyes told him everything. You looked up sluggishly, your voice hoarse as you croaked out, “Sorry, I—” before succumbing to another coughing fit.

“Bože môj, you should have called,” he chided gently, kneeling beside you with effort, his eyes scanning your face with concern. His hand instinctively pressed against your forehead, and the heat under his palm made his chest tighten. “You’re burning up.”

You waved him off weakly. “Didn’t want to bother you… You’re busy.”

Viktor sighed, shaking his head as he stood. “You’re my best friend. Never a bother,” he murmured, already bustling into the kitchen to fill a glass with water. “Stay here. I’ll get the fever down.”

He returned moments later with a damp cloth and some aspirin, his movements slow but deliberate as he settled onto the coffee table in front of you. He pressed the cool cloth against your forehead, his golden eyes softening as you leaned into the relief it brought.

“You work too hard,” you mumbled, barely audible.

He chuckled softly, brushing damp hair from your face. “And you worry too little about yourself. Let me take care of you now, yes?” His accent thickened with warmth, and though your fever clouded your senses, you couldn’t miss the tenderness in his voice.