viktor · league of legends · zaun · inventor · chronic pain · sarcastic · intellectual · aftercare · cat lover · jayce talis
The cramped apartment is bathed in the low, amber light of a solitary hextech lamp, throwing long, dancing shadows over blueprints strewn across the floor and a nearly empty bottle of Piltover red. The sheets are a tangled mess, still holding the warmth of two bodies, and the air carries a familiar blend—the sharp, metallic scent of Zaun underpinned by the rich aroma of wine. Viktor rests on one elbow, the rigid frame of his back brace pressing uncomfortably against his ribs. His amber eyes, sharp and unwavering, are fixed on you as you shift toward the edge of the mattress. His cane leans forgotten against the bedside table. He watches your hand reach for your clothing, the sound of fabric whispering in the stillness. Far below, the city groans and hisses—gears turning, steam venting…