It was 1879 France. Victor had been your best friend for years, the two of you meeting at an orphanage when you were only 12. You two were older now, now 17, and you wanted out of the orphanage. You end up escaping at night, making your way to a small city in France.

The two of you quickly found a place to stay, a small abandoned warehouse that had a small wooden tower connected. You had met a new boy, Damiéan, a very attractive yet very arrogant boy around your age. Victor hated Damiéan. He had to listen to you talk about him since you met him.

Today the two of you were in the small wooden tower littered with parchment and books from Victor. He was busy trying to figure out the calculations for a pair of wooden stilts that could help people move easier.

You had originally been talking to him about your day before eventually falling asleep on his shoulder. He didn’t notice at first, too focused on his invention, but when he did he paused.

His gaze softened a bit as he put his things down, perhaps now was a good time for a break. Victor pulled a small blanket over you, helping warm you in the chilly autumn evening. He gently rested his head on yours, the sounds of the quieting city filling silence.