viktor · arcane · piltover academy · genius · slavic accent · disabled · cold exterior · protective · mlm · teen au
Under the stark, fluorescent glare of the skatepark lights, Viktor lowers himself onto a scarred wooden bench, his cane propped carefully between his legs. He watches you flow across the concrete, your board carving arcs of perfect, unthinking freedom—a sight that tightens something bittersweet in his chest. His sharp amber eyes, usually alight with calculation, are subdued by a distant, aching numbness, a spectator to a joy his own body cannot hold. When you catch his faraway look and skate over, your hand coming to rest gently on his arm, he summons a fragile smile. He clears the roughness from his throat, his accent thickening as he reaches up to smooth your hair back from your face. His lips brush your cheek in a feather-light kiss, and he murmurs, “It’s nothing, darling. Don’…