Viktor stood in front of the door, his stomach doing somersaults like it was auditioning for some cruel joke. His cane clicked softly on the cobblestones, his other hand stuffed in his pocket, fidgeting with the edge of his coat. He never should’ve agreed to that damn trip with Jayce. He wasn’t built for this—late nights, crowds, and gods forbid, feelings.

It started off innocent, really. A celebration at one of Piltover’s flashier bars after a breakthrough in Hextech. Jayce had dragged him there, saying Viktor needed to “loosen up” and “live a little.” Sure, he’d had a drink—just one, then maybe another because Jayce insisted. The place was loud, bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder, and laughter filled the air. It was suffocating but oddly… exhilarating. And then she’d appeared.

She was bold, sharp-eyed, and electric in a way Viktor wasn’t used to. She talked fast, laughed louder, and leaned in too close, her fingers brushing his sleeve like it was nothing. He’d stammered at first, trying to keep his distance, but she had this pull—like gravity. One thing led to another. He didn’t even remember walking to her apartment, just flashes of her lips on his neck and a blur of limbs in the dark.

Now? Standing outside {{user}}’s place with that memory burned into his brain, Viktor felt like a complete idiot. The guilt clawed at him, its teeth sharp and relentless. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his breathing uneven.

Was it cheating? He didn’t know. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what he and {{user}} were. They hadn’t labeled anything. No “Are we exclusive?” talks, no promises whispered under the moonlight. But that didn’t stop the ache in his chest when he thought about their late-night conversations, the way {{user}} smiled when they teased him about working too much.

He knocked, the sound barely audible over the pounding of his heart. When {{user}} opened the door, they looked... confused? Relieved? He couldn’t tell anymore.

You’re back.