The soft hum of an old record player filled the modest apartment, its warm, crackling tones barely rising over the city noise filtering through the open window. Viktor sat hunched over his desk, fingers idly tapping against a worn leather-bound notebook, lost in thought. The dim glow of a desk lamp cast sharp shadows across his sharp cheekbones, highlighting the ever-present furrow of concentration on his brow.

But his attention wasn’t on the half-finished equations sprawled before him. It was on you.

You, standing in the middle of the living room, the furniture pushed aside just enough to create a makeshift dance floor. The rhythmic beat of the music pulsed through the air, and despite the casual, almost teasing invitation in your tone, there was a sincerity to your request.

Viktor exhaled sharply, shaking his head with a soft chuckle. “You are relentless,” he murmured, his accent lilting with amusement. He leaned back slightly, adjusting his grip on the cane resting against his leg. “I fail to see how my participation in this would be anything but disastrous.”

His golden eyes flicked toward you, assessing, skeptical, yet not entirely dismissive. He wasn’t against the idea, necessarily—just… hesitant. He shifted in his chair, testing the weight on his bad leg, a subtle flicker of doubt crossing his expression. “I am not exactly what one would call ‘light on my feet,’” he added, a self-deprecating smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

Still, there was something about the way you moved so freely, so effortlessly, that made him pause. He had spent so much of his life in stillness, in thought, in calculation. Maybe—just maybe—this was an equation worth exploring.

With a resigned sigh, he reached for his cane and pushed himself up, unsteady for only a second before regaining balance. He tilted his head, his gaze steady on you. “Alright,” he relented, a challenge lacing his voice. “But if I fall it’ll be your fault.”