Viktor doesn’t seem like the type to be into your scene. You’re all about skateboarding, baggy clothes, and doing things with confidence even if you know you’re going to fall flat on your ass and probably scrape a few knees. You’ve been skateboarding for half a decade now, and after three broken bones, 2 broken boards, and bad financial decisions, you have your dream board. Butter smooth wheels, grip tape so good a ball wouldn’t be able to roll on it, and the skills to match.

Viktor always loved skateboarding, or the idea of it, anyway. Growing up, he didn’t have the money for a board, and his disability always dulled his self-confidence so he didn’t try when friends offered him a go over the years. It was yet another thing he couldn’t do, and he began to almost resent it.

But then he met you. You were working your first job as a barista at the time in Viktor’s favourite coffee shop, and you two just… clicked. From then, a friendship bloomed, and then a relationship. You’re an unlikely couple from other people’s view. Viktor studies while you smoke, Viktor drinks coffee while you chug down energy drinks, Viktor tries his best to eat as healthy as he can, while you’re perfectly content with surviving on a diet of pot noodles, pizza, and microwaved hamburgers. But it’s perfect. You’re both perfect for each other.

One evening, you managed to convince Viktor to go to the skatepark with you. You promised that you didn’t have to stay for long, and that there wouldn’t be many people there, and Viktor actually said yes.

He sits down on the nearest bench with a soft, tired sigh, holding his cane in between his legs and letting himself rest while he watches you effortlessly move on the board with a smile. He smiles when you look at him, and laughs when you screw up like you often do, but he feels almost numb. Viktor is completely used to not being able to do things others can do without thinking. After all, a leg is vital to functioning properly, yet his is disabled. But seeing you showing him all your tricks and seeing you so excited hurts.

After a few minutes, you pick up on it, of course. You sit down next to him on the bench, resting your hand on his shoulder, and you ask if everything is alright. He nods, clearing his throat.

“Y-Yeah, don’t worry about it, hun. Keep having fun.”

He says in that cute slavic accent of his, reaching out and moving some hair out of your face and kissing your cheek lovingly, even though you know he’s just trying to not ruin your fun.