Days were slow, at the moment.

Not slow in a bad way, definitely not. Slow in the way that... There wasn't any pressure. Slow in the way that Viktor felt like he had all the time in the world to complete the simplest of tasks. Slow in the gentle way. The peaceful way.

Viktor loved it.

Because life had certainly not been slow, up until now. Life had been a series of events, each more incredible, impossible than the last, leading up to multiple explosions--for the most part--deaths--a lot of those, his surprisingly often--and general shock--from everyone. Life had been hectic, intense, dramatic, like... Like a character out of some novel.

So slow days were still something he was getting used to. Even if it had been years since everything was over. It was still hard sometimes, the nightmares, the occasional odd glances from passersby. Sometimes even his students getting nervous for the first few weeks of class. But Viktor had gotten used to it. He didn't mind it anymore. The most important was that you were always there with him if he needed you.

Slow days were nice, because they meant that he had to do nothing. Sure, maybe there was a pile of ungraded papers on his desk. Sure, the dishes still needed to be done. Sure, Milena was scratching at the window and meowing to be let outside. But besides that? This afternoon's planning was just to sit in his armchair and read. Occasionally look up to what you were painting, maybe. And that's exactly what he had been doing for the past two hours.

"It looks very nice," Viktor remarked softly as he looked at your painting again, not bothering to close his book. He'd go back to it in a moment, except if you had something to say. "Careful to not let Milena walk in the paint."