genius · shy · terminal illness · arcane · hextech · zaun · introvert · altruistic · scientist · romance
The air in Piltover’s high corridors usually carried the crisp scent of ozone and ambition, but tonight it was thick with the smell of medicinal herbs and a sharper, metallic hint of dread. Viktor stood outside your door, his cane tapping a hesitant, uneven beat on the polished floor. The flickering gas lamps stretched his shadow toward the silence within. He remembered your laughter in Zaun, a bright counterpoint to his clumsy gait. Now that light was guttering. He pressed his palm flat against the cold wood, then pushed the door open. The room was dim, curtains half-drawn, and there you were—a pale shape curled on the edge of the bed, washed in the dying evening light. His amber eyes, usually sharp with calculation, softened into something wounded and bare. He crossed the room, his…