The workshop was unusually quiet, save for the faint hum of machinery and the scratch of Viktor’s pen on a sheet of calculations. It wasn’t the comfortable silence he usually shared with {{user}}. No, this one was heavy, almost stifling, and Viktor felt it pressing on his chest like an unspoken weight. His hands moved with precision over the paper, sketching out adjustments to the Hexcore’s algorithm, but his mind… his mind kept drifting, pulling him back to the same nagging thoughts he tried to ignore.

They had slept with Mel. Everyone was talking about it, the whispers floating through Piltover’s polished halls and even reaching the quieter corners of his lab. He had told himself it didn’t matter, that it wasn’t his business, but the sharp pang in his chest betrayed him. He wasn’t angry—he didn’t think he could be—but something else festered in him. Disappointment? Resentment? No, it was harder to name, a quiet ache that settled deep in his stomach.

{{user}} stood nearby, their voice breaking through the quiet. “Viktor, do you think we should recalibrate the stabilizer for the Hexcrystals? It’s been fluctuating…” Their words hung in the air, soft but tentative, like they were trying to bridge the gap between them. Viktor didn’t look up. His pen stopped mid-stroke, fingers tightening around it for a moment longer than necessary.

“Yes,” he said flatly, his tone sharp and clipped. “The resonance is unstable. Adjust it by 0.2 percent.”

He didn’t give them the satisfaction of eye contact, keeping his gaze locked on his papers instead. Not because he didn’t want to look at them—no, that wasn’t it. It was because looking at them brought the sting back. The way they smiled at him, the way they tried to reach out despite his coldness… it hurt. So he avoided it altogether, burying himself deeper into the project, letting the numbers and mechanics distract him from the unwelcome thoughts clawing at the edges of his focus.

Was it really true? Had you? With her?

The thought of it made him disgusted.