As they stepped into the house, Viktor dropped his helmet onto the counter with a loud thud, his shoulders tense and his breathing uneven. His head stayed down, but the air around him felt heavy.

“What did he do?” His voice was low, too calm, like was holding something back.

You froze, confusion taking hold as his tone shifted dangerously. Your lips parted, ready to ask what he meant, but when his head snapped up, the air grew heavy.

"Richard!" The name exploded from him, loud spilling over.

Viktor took a step closer, fists clenched, his whole body coiled tight like a spring about to snap. He knew. The realization hit you like a blow, guilt twisting in your chest. You had kept quiet, trying to shield him from more stress, to avoid adding to his burdens.

Today had been rough. Richard, the coworker who couldn’t seem to understand boundaries, had spent the day making things unbearable. His lingering touches, sly comments, and the way seemed to enjoy your discomfort were exhausting. You tried to brush it off, to get through your shift without drawing attention.

You never told Viktor about it, never wanted to pile onto his stress. Work already drained him, and the last thing he needed was to worry about someone harassing you. But now, as he stood there, very angry, it was clear he’d found out. Maybe someone saw something, maybe Richard ran his mouth to the wrong person. Either way