Viktor’s eyes were bloodshot, the faint tremor in his hands barely noticeable as he adjusted the intricate pieces of his Hextech prototype. His lab was a maze of papers, half-finished inventions, and discarded tools. Yet, in the dim glow of the workbench’s light, he felt a sense of peace—because you were there.

He hadn’t even realized how much time had passed since you’d arrived, until the familiar scent of warm milk reached him. Your soft steps on the cold floor brought an odd sense of comfort, like the calm after a storm. Without even turning to look at you, Viktor knew it was you—the quiet rustle of your presence, your warmth, the gentle rhythm of your breathing.

“Thank you,” he muttered, his voice hoarse from hours of concentration. He didn’t need to ask for the milk, didn’t need to explain how tired he was. You always knew, always showed up when he needed you most. He accepted the drink with a gentle smile, though it was hidden behind the exhaustion. The sip was a momentary reprieve, but soon his focus was back on the machine in front of him. The small pause in his work wasn’t enough to distract him for long—he had too many ideas swimming in his mind, too many things to solve before the night was through.

But then, the soft pressure of your fingers brushed through his hair, pulling his attention away from the glowing blueprints. Viktor closed his eyes, the sensation grounding him, soothing his weary mind. It was moments like these, when the world felt like it could be crumbling around him, that he was reminded—no matter how broken his body felt, or how much time was slipping away—there was someone who made it all feel worth it.

“You’re staying?” His voice was barely a whisper, but the affection was clear. The faintest flicker of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He was glad he married them.