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In hindsight, Viktor should have probably been more discreet. Which is saying something, since he’d been nothing but discreet for quite awhile.
For months, almost a year by that point, Viktor had done well in hiding his declining health from Jayce. He did not hide it for any particular reason, but more so because of a combination of ones.
Firstly, Viktor already knew the cause of it. The Undercity and the gases it produced. An ailment that had no cure, and would only worsen with time. It affected his lungs, making it increasingly difficult to breathe, to walk, to stand. Every cough felt like a stab to his chest, and the blood that was spewed up in return only proved to worsen that feeling.
Secondly, there was too much to do. There were plans ahead for Hextech that Viktor refused to be placed on the back burner until they ultimately fell into obscurity. Plans that would help make life better for the people of the Undercity. If Viktor was forced to stop working because of his inconvenient condition, then those ideas would likely die with him. Because there was little to no chance of recovery, and so stopping at all would be a massive waste of energy and time.
Which led to the last point, Jayce would make him stop. He’d fret over his health, force him to rest, and deny him from staying in the lab overnight. He knew this because Jayce had done similar things to him before. A few years back when Viktor had come down with a nasty case of bronchitis, Jayce had all but barricaded his apartment door to keep him from leaving. He’d made him food, picked up his medicine, stayed by his side from dawn to dusk. Then, even after Viktor had gotten better, he’d still been an insufferable nuisance about it.
God forbid Viktor accidentally dropped a piece of chalk on the ground. Or tried to walk across the room to retrieve a tool. There Jayce was, rushing to his aid.
“Oh! Let me get that for you, Viktor!”
“Stay there, V, I’ve got it! Don’t push yourself!
“Are you sure you don’t need to sit down? Does your leg bother you?”
Viktor had lost count of how many times he’d hit the idiot with his cane. He’d even started to fake drop things to get his head within smacking distance. Was it petty? Yes. Was he going to stop? No. Not if Jayce kept treating him like he was made of glass and about to keel over and die at any moment. In fact, Viktor would start to hit him more if necessary.
Because all things considered, he was fine. Viktor was fine.
At least, he thought he was. Until Jayce became a councilor, and Viktor was suddenly less fine in a different way.
Jayce stopped spending every waking moment in the lab. Which meant he stopped spending every waking moment with him. He became practically unreachable some days, and that was when Viktor came to a humiliating discovery.
He missed Jayce.
He missed the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the morning every time he entered the lab. He missed how Jayce basically forced him to take breaks to eat. He missed his smile, his warmth, his laugh. He even missed the way Jayce would mumble equations to himself, the way he’d chew on his pencils and drum his fingers against the desk whenever he was particularly stumped on something.
This was rather shocking, considering how Viktor had been under the impression that he loathed those incessant ticks of his. As it turned out, he didn’t loathe them. He didn’t even dislike them. It was humiliating on a level he hadn't thought possible.
Eventually, it became clear that he’d been able to mostly ignore his failing health while in the comfortable and familiar presence of Jayce. He made Viktor feel… safe. Embarrassingly enough, Jayce was probably the only person in the world Viktor would trust to keep him safe. There was a fine line between safe and coddled, and while Jayce was toeing it constantly, it was somewhat endearing.
All of these discoveries were made while Viktor was by his lonesome, holed up in the lab with lingering thoughts of impending death on his mind, while Jayce was out God knows where with God knows who, dealing with political crises that he really shouldn’t have to. Jayce was a scientist, and Viktor was apparently the only one who remembered that.
Viktor wasn’t always alone. Ms. Young came by and assisted him in whatever way she could. Her presence was probably the only thing keeping him somewhat sane. But even then (as horrible as it was to admit), she wasn’t Jayce.
Still, maybe Viktor should be counting his blessings, because Jayce’s consistent absence was helpful in keeping his nonexistent health a secret. Even more so than before. It let him focus on the important things, like what will happen after his inevitable demise. The work that would be done, what would become of his personal belongings, his studies on the Hexcore that led from dead end to dead end.
Jayce. How he would react. How he would mourn. How he would move on. Jayce wouldn’t be alone, he had his mother and Heimerdinger and Sky. And Mel. Mel would stay by his side. Whether that was a particularly good thing was debatable, but the important part was that Jayce wouldn’t be alone.
Viktor tried not to think too much about that, but when he didn’t he was left with ghosts of the past. Laughter echoing throughout the lab. Alongside some sleep deprived arguments. He missed that easy comradery, but at least now he was allowed to cough up blood and silence.
Or he thought he was. Until his most recent coughing fit ended with him spitting up a concerning amount of blood. In front of Jayce. The one day he had decided to spend fully in the lab with him. That’s when things became a little more serious.
“I made you an appointment at noon.”
Chalk screeched across the board at an unpleasant frequency.
“What?”
“I made you an appointment to see a doctor,” Jayce repeated, firmly. Staring down at the blueprints sprawled out on his desk. “They come highly recommended by the Kiramman’s. It’s at noon, so clear your schedule.”
“An… you… what?”
An appointment? Jayce had gotten him an appointment? With a Piltover doctor? The Kiramman’s doctor? The coughing incident barely occurred twenty four hours ago; it was practically impossible to schedule something like that so fast.
“I’m not going to repeat myself again,” Jayce said, sounding way too indignant for Viktor’s liking. It made him frown.
“Why would you do such a thing?"
Jayce scoffed. “Why wouldn’t I?”
It was said with such righteous intensity, it made Viktor fume where he stood, leaning heavily against his cane.
“I didn’t ask you to do anything,” he hissed, incredulously, fully stepping away from the board to meet his partner's petulant stare head on. “I didn’t want you to. You cannot just… make decisions on my behalf without consulting me first!”
“Oh, so you’ve already made plans to visit a doctor on your own, then?” Jayce drawled, condescendingly. Viktor’s eye twitched.
“I don’t need someone to tell me what I already know.”
“And what do you know?” Jayce threw back, frustration bleeding into his words. “Because you haven’t told me anything!”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“There’s plenty to tell!” Jayce cried. “You’re coughing up blood and you didn’t say anything! You’ve been hiding this from me for who knows how long. Gods, Vik, if I hadn’t seen you, would you have even said a word about it?!”
“…No,” Viktor muttered. “I wouldn’t have.”
Jayce had no right to look as heartbroken as he did by that admission. It made some smaller, kinder part of Viktor wish to take it back, just so that look could leave his eyes. However, the bolder, more vindictive Viktor won out, as he usually did.
“Why not?” he asked, voice cracking. Viktor swallowed roughly. Throat like sandpaper.
“Because it’s none of your business, Jayce.”
“None of my— Viktor, I’m your partner!” he shouted. “You don’t get to hide stuff like this from me.”
Something ugly twisted in Viktor’s chest. “I don’t ‘get’ to?”
“No, you don’t,” Jayce practically seethed, stomping a few inches closer. “If something’s wrong, it affects a hell of a lot more than just you!”
“I get it,” Viktor clipped with a flat look. “You’re right. This does affect the future of Hextech, which is precisely why I didn’t tell you.”
Jayce’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I knew you’d be this way,” Viktor said, gesturing wildly. “That you’d overreact and focus on all the wrong things.”
“And what exactly am I focusing on that’s so wrong?” Jayce asked, eyes narrowed.
“My health,” Viktor spat. “It’s useless to dwell on things we cannot change. Now that you know, you’ll never let me work in peace again. You barely did when you didn’t know.”
The cackle Jayce released in response bordered on delirious.
“What? So, I’m not allowed to be worried about you?” Jayce exclaimed, a wild look in his eye. “I can’t try to help you?”
“Jayce—”
“I know you don’t like it when I hover, and I get that, but dammit, Vik, this is worse than a headache and some leg pain!”
“I know that!”
“Do you?!”
Their voices echoed throughout the lab as they stood there, glaring at one another. Viktor gripped at his cane, his knuckles white, and watched Jayce’s eyes cycle through various emotions, before landing on quiet exhaustion.
“I know it looks bad, V,” Jayce interrupted, voice softer. More pleading. It convinced Viktor to meet his eyes. “But, please, you can’t just accept it. That isn’t who you are.”
His eyes were wide and earnest. Fearful, on Viktor’s behalf. It was the same look he’d given when he first saw Viktor doubling over and heaving up blood. Panicking, commanding him to sit down, dabbing his red stained lips with his handkerchief. Staring at him, terrified tears shining in his eyes. He’d turned away then, and he did the same now.
How could he explain it to him? That he was scared of what he’d hear, but more so tired than anything. He was so, so, very tired. An exhaustion he could feel bleeding into his bones.
Viktor sighed. It was too much.
“Please go. For me.”
Oh, that wasn’t fair. Although, when has anything ever been fair in life?
It’s almost noon, and Viktor finds himself sitting in a waiting room. It was a cold, overly sanitized, bleak excuse for a room. Despite it being clearly made for the wealthiest visitors. Rich people didn’t have any taste for decor.
Arms folded, his cane propped against his leg, Viktor impatiently sat. Waiting. The air smelled of disinfectant and stale coffee, while other occupants of the waiting room did their best to try and seem like they were not looking at him with barely contained disgust.
He hated it here. Hated it with the burning passion he usually reserved for inefficient machinery and people who stared a bit too long at his brace. But he was here. For Jayce. When had he become so pathetic? So easily swayed by his partner’s incessant nagging? He knew the answer, but he had too much dignity to fully admit it. Even in the privacy of his own head.
Just a quick visit, Viktor told himself. One visit and Jayce will have nothing to pester me about. Then I can get back to our work. For however much time I have left.
The door to the waiting room opened, and a nurse in bright purple scrubs stepped out, clipboard in hand. Viktor barely glanced up, too busy drowning in thoughts of his own mortality.
“Mr. Talis?” the nurse called out, scanning the room.
Silence.
Viktor glanced up, briefly scanned the room, craning his neck to look behind. Was Jayce there to spy on him? To make sure he actually made it? If so then he had a cane to the face coming in the near future. Was he truly that untrustworthy?
“Mr. Talis?” the nurse repeated, louder this time. Viktor frowned, tilting his head in confusion.
Jayce didn’t appear to be in the room. Furrowing his brow, Viktor cleared his throat. Perhaps there’s been a mix up?
“Apologies,” he said, his accent clipping the syllables. Her eyes landed directly on him. “Eh, are you asking for Jayce Talis?”
The nurse raised a brow, glancing back at her clipboard. “No, I’m asking for Viktor.”
He blinked. “Oh.”
“Are you Viktor?” She asked rather patiently. Viktor opened his mouth, then snapped his jaw shut.
“Yes.”
“Good. Come right this way, Mr. Talis.”
With that, she stepped to the side and held the door open for him. Viktor stared at her, perhaps a moment too long, then he hobbled his way through the door.
The doctor confirmed everything he’d already known. Respiratory issues. Joint degradation. Lung scarring consistent with long-term exposure to chemicals. Smoke, fumes, smog. What Zaun’s typical air quality had been like when he was younger. It had gotten better, thanks in part to the Kiramman’s ventilation system, but poison like that wasn’t easy to remove entirely. Effects tended to linger.
It did linger, in fact. On his immune system. It explained why he’d been sicker more often than not, even before the coughing began.
Regardless, the visit as a whole was not unpleasant. The doctor was kind enough in delivering the news. Discussions of treatment were had, a tenuous string of hope pulling on Viktor’s heart. It was in all likelihood a redundant effort, but it was something. Something to tell Jayce about.
Well, another thing to tell Jayce about. Aside from the fact that every nurse and doctor that crossed his way, referred to him as Mr. Talis. It was strange, horribly confusing. And yet, Viktor never corrected them. He meant to, every time he heard it he meant to speak up, but his throat would catch, and his tongue grew heavy. As if something deep within him was doing its best to prevent the words from being said. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t fight against it as hard as he should have.
By the end of it, Viktor was asked to sign a couple documents, to schedule his next appointment. Even then, they told him to initial his name on the dotted lines.
V. Talis. That’s what he’d written, and no one stopped him. Least of all himself.
By the time he was back in the empty lab, sitting at his workbench, staring angrily back at the confounding existence of the Hexcore, all that was left on Viktor’s mind was the question of why? Why would Jayce list him as a Talis? What could possibly be the reason for such a thing? And why, may he ask, why did he feel lightheaded and practically on fire whenever the name was mentioned.
Viktor Talis.
He’d never had a surname, that wasn’t a common thing in the Undercity, however he found that he didn’t particularly dislike the idea of it. Especially if it was Jayce’s name. Which was… a confusing thought. One that probably should have concerned him more, but Viktor was too caught up in his thoughts to take the time to dissect it.
That took up far too much energy, anyhow. Energy that was better suited for focusing on the ever changing structure of the Hexcore, and the future of the Hexgates, and their upcoming projects, and… at some point Viktor had started to write the words Viktor Talis all over his notes. In permanent ink.
What the fuck was he doing?
Viktor grunted and scribbled out the offending words rather harshly. This was pathetic. He was no better than a hopeless school girl, doodling her crush’s name in her notebook. Not that Jayce was Viktor’s crush. That was ridiculous. Viktor was a professional man who was able to keep his work and private life separate. He didn’t let trivial things such as feelings affect his work. Not that he had feelings for anybody.
His fingers drummed on the table as he reviewed the facts. He had been thinking about Jayce frequently. Too frequently. Viktor noticed small things about his partner, such as his unfairly perfect facial symmetry on more than one occasion. Which was unnecessary. He’d also been drawn to the size of his arms... a few times. There’s no practical reason for that, but it was the truth.
Fingers stopped drumming. He leaned back, eyes narrowing at the ceiling like it had personally wronged him.
What was happening?
Reassess, isolate variables, he internally scolded. What could be the cause? Am I sleep-deprived? No, I slept four hours last night — that is better than usual. Is this the result of an external influence? Possible. Unlikely. Has Jayce recently introduced a new variable into our environment?
Jayce. Jayce must have done something. Brought in a plant he’s allergic to or blown a gas fuse to which Viktor was currently dying from or having smiled at him so sweetly with those alarming… enchanting… dimples… Hmm.
Or perhaps he’d just gone insane. That was also a possibility.
Viktor reached across and grabbed his cane from where it leaned, propped up against his desk. The cane that was covered in House Talis’s colors. Which was fine. Viktor had never had a problem with that before, why would he have one now? After all, Jayce had so thoughtfully made this for him within the first week of them knowing each other. He’d improved upon its previous design too. Made it more comfortable for Viktor to walk with, to lean against. Which was nice. Very nice of him to do for someone he hadn’t known for over a month yet. And then, Jayce had helped to make his leg brace, and improved upon that as well… which was also nice.
He gripped at his cane like a lifeline. If he held his cane tight enough, he’d remain grounded in reality. His cane was sturdy, reliable, beautiful. Wait, no, not beautiful. It was a cane, canes are not beautiful.
They are when covered in Talis colors. When made by Jayce Talis—
Viktor gasped and tried to shake the thoughts away. What the hell? Why had this stupid mix up had such a profound effect upon him? He hadn’t been thinking about these… things before the appointment. Right? Surely no. And yet…
Then, when he felt like he was on the precipice of something great, fate decided to be cruel and sent him into another coughing fit.
He doubled over in his seat, clutching at his cane, coughing into his hand. No blood came up, thank Janna, but of course, of course, that was the moment Jayce decided to make his grand entrance. The Gods were cruel, and there was no justice in this world.
“Viktor!” came Jayce’s voice, full of his usual brand of big, stupid concern. It made him curl further in on himself. Perhaps if I don’t look at him, he’ll go away.
Then, because that plan was never going to work, Viktor felt a large, warm hand place itself on his back. He tried for the life of him to not lean back into the warmth because, honestly, this was getting absurd. His entire body wracked with sharp, grating spasms. His chest ached with every rasping breath, and his fingers dug into his cane, as though it would stabilize him through sheer willpower.
This is fine, he told himself between coughs, wheezing like a rusted bellows. This is perfectly normal. I am perfectly fine, except for the part where I am quite literally dying.
The coughs subsided just as Jayce decided to speak up again. Voice soft, too soft, too careful. Too caring.
“Are you okay?”
Viktor would’ve scoffed if his throat wasn’t on fire.
“Do I sound okay, Jayce?” Viktor croaked instead, eyes still squeezed shut, hand pressed to his mouth. He felt the man wince behind him.
“Right, right, I’m sorry,” Jayce placated, rubbing his back. “Do you need some water?”
Viktor tensed at the moment. Oh no.
It wasn’t the touch. Jayce touched him all the time. It wasn’t the warmth, either. It was his own reaction to it. Because Viktor’s stupid, rebellious brain had chosen this exact moment to remind him that this was the man he’d apparently and unwillingly grown an… infatuation with.
It was mortifying.
“I’m fine,” Viktor shrugged off, standing too quickly. Jayce’s hand returned to stabilize him, and Viktor couldn’t stop the flinch in time.
Jayce pulled his hand away, eyes wide. Hurt, Viktor realized with a pang. He was hurt.
“Is something wrong?”
Everything’s wrong. Viktor shook his head.
“I’m alright,” he lied. Limping back over towards the board. “Although, I might require some assistance in figuring out this Hexcore quandary.”
He could feel Jayce staring at him, but he endeavored not to move. Eventually, Jayce walked to stand beside him at the board, picking up a piece of chalk.
“I can help with that,” he said.
Viktor nodded, letting out a breath. The ease of working with Jayce had not faltered. Well, it hadn’t faltered much. As he was suddenly having a difficult time trying to not look directly at Jayce. The problem was that “not looking at Jayce” had become significantly more difficult ever since his brain decided to betray him with all of this feelings nonsense.
To make things worse, Viktor could feel Jayce’s eyes on him, concerned and kind and far too earnest for Viktor’s current emotional state.
“Why are you looking at me?” Viktor muttered, watching Jayce cringe in his peripherals.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Silence.
“Fine, I am,” he admitted with a sigh. “It’s just… you sounded like you were hacking up a lung when I came in.”
Viktor rolled his eyes. “You’re being dramatic. That wasn’t even a bad fit.”
“You’re right. There wasn’t any blood this time,” Jayce said, arms crossed, his brow furrowed in that infuriatingly handsome way that Viktor refused to acknowledge.
“I told you, I’m fine.”
Jayce hummed. “Okay. How was the appointment, then?”
Viktor held back another flinch. “It went well.”
“Well?”
“Yes, it was fine. What more do you want me to say?”
“Plenty of stuff. But I get the feeling you’re going to be stubborn about it, so I’ll wait.”
Viktor glared at Jayce, and unfortunately, it did not have the intended effect because Jayce just smiled at him. Viktor hated him so much. He hated his broad shoulders. He hated his stupid grin. He hated the fact that his heart had decided to do a weird, fluttery thing just because Jayce was close.
I hate this, I hate this, I hate this—
“Well… since you’re so eager to talk,” Viktor began, eyes narrowed. “Do you care to explain why everyone in that office referred to me as Viktor Talis, Jayce Talis?”
There was a beat of silence.
Jayce’s smile froze. His eyes widened, and Viktor knew he’d gotten him.
“Oh,” he said. Viktor waited for more, but nothing came. For Janna’s sake—
“Yes. Oh,” he replied, tilting his head, eyes sharp. “Can you form full sentences and elaborate beyond that?”
He watched Jayce scratch the back of his neck, his gaze flickering anywhere but at Viktor.
“Okay, so, funny story,” he began, which was absolutely not a promising start. “That doctor’s office has this… policy, right? They don’t take patients without a full name in their system. And since you’re just… y’know… Viktor…”
Yes… Viktor. He’s Viktor. Just Viktor. A cripple from the Undercity. A Zaunite rat. The exact type of person those doctors tried to keep out of their fine establishment by refusing to treat anyone without a House name. Viktor felt his eyes narrow.
“You lied,” he accused.
“W-Well, I— I didn’t— I had no other choice!” Jayce stumbled frantically. “I didn’t want them to turn you away, and I had to put something in the system, and I just figured, you know…”
He trailed off, gesturing vaguely like it explained everything.
Viktor squinted at him, suspicious. “You figured what?”
Jayce’s eyes flickered toward the door like he was considering fleeing. But, being Jayce, he did not. Instead, he braced himself with a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck like it pained him.
“I figured… if you had to borrow a last name, you might as well borrow mine.”
Viktor’s brain stopped working for a moment and Jayce took his lack of answer in the worst way possible.
“I didn’t mean for it to freak you out!” Jayce said quickly, waving his hands like he could physically dismiss the awkwardness. “I only— People do it all the time when they make reservations for stuff! It’s not like I claimed you were my—”
“—Spouse?” Viktor finished. Ruthlessly shoving down the fluttering butterflies caused by the word.
Jayce’s face went bright red. “I didn’t say that!”
“You did not need to say it,” Viktor muttered, leaning against the board, thoroughly unimpressed. “They assumed.”
“Probably not!” Jayce squeaked. “I didn’t imply— They just needed a last name! I was being practical!”
“Practical, he says,” Viktor echoed, his voice dry as sand. “Yes, of course. Because when I think of ‘practical decisions,’ I think of you.”
“Wha— Hey!”
Viktor ignored him, tapping his cane irritably on the ground. “Do you have any idea how many implications this could carry?”
Jayce shrunk in on himself. “I mean… it’s just a name.”
Viktor’s eyes narrowed into slits, zeroing in on his partner’s sympathetic face. No, no, that sad little puppy-dog look wasn’t getting him out of this one.
“It’s not ‘just a name’, Jayce!” he hissed. “This is— you know very well how quickly gossip like this can spread! Perhaps even more than I do!”
“So what?!” Jayce suddenly exclaimed, spending Viktor reeling back.
“So what?”
“Yeah! So what!” Jayce repeated, throwing his arms up in the air. “You’re basically an honorary member of my House anyways! Who cares about who says what?”
Viktor blinked, and shrunk back into the board, as if it could absorb him into the wall and away from this conversation. Quickly, his anger was replaced by something far more… sentimental.
“I… wasn’t aware you felt that way.”
Jayce heaved out a sigh, running his fingers through his hair. Viktor followed the movement.
“Yeah, well. What’s mine is yours,” he mumbled, kicking up some imaginary dirt on the floor. Viktor twisted his cane in his grip.
“I don’t have much to offer in return,” he said. Jayce rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to meet his eye.
“You… have yourself,” Viktor froze and Jayce’s eyes went wide. “B-But not in a weird way! I didn’t mean it— That came out wrong!”
As Jayce gestured frantically, holding up his hands in surrender, as if waiting for Viktor to whack him upside the head, Viktor did his best to bite down a smile. Oh, this fool. This lovely, stupid, fool.
“I understood what you meant,” he intruded, a small smirk on his face. “Don’t blow a gasket over trying to explain yourself.”
Jayce exhaled, practically doubling over in relief.
“Good, good. I just…” Jayce sighed. “I don’t need anything from you in exchange. That’s all.”
Viktor failed and let a fond smile envelope his face. He hummed out a tiny chuckle, watching his partner’s face grow redder and redder. There was quite possibly some steam coming off of those dimpled cheeks.
“You know, if they did assume I was your spouse, that means I am now legally entitled to at least half of your personal assets.”
Jayce’s eyes shot back up to meet his own, mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.
“That’s not… that’s not how that works.”
“It is in Zaun,” Viktor said, utterly deadpan.
“Wait, is that true?”
“No,” Viktor smirked smugly. “But that would be a rather nice benefit, no?”
Jayce threw his head back and laughed, Viktor watched with a deep, aching, longing.
“You act like your own assets aren’t valuable,” he smiled. “I think you forget you have them sometimes. You don’t spend on anything.”
“I am not a flashy sort of person,” Viktor shrugged. “What can I say?”
They chuckled together quietly. Then there was a pause, one where neither of them spoke. The only sound was the faint hum of the hextech core on Viktor’s desk.
“…You’re not mad, are you?” Jayce asked, cautiously peeking over at him.
Viktor sighed heavily, letting his head fall back against the board. Chalk whitening his hair. He tilted his head to glance at Jayce, feeling an unbearable mixture of exasperation and… something warmer. Something he did not have time to unpack.
“No,” he said. “I’m not mad.”
“Good,” Jayce said, grinning that big, stupid grin that made Viktor’s heart skip annoyingly. “You’ll thank me later when you get priority scheduling.”
“Right. Priority scheduling,” Viktor said dryly, picking up the chalk and turning back to his work.
His heart was still doing that thing where it beat too fast in his chest. He clenched his jaw, focusing on the frustrating equations laid out in front of him.
“You never told me what the doctor said.”
Viktor sighed, jotting down another rune. “Because there’s nothing to say.”
“Do you mean that in a good way or…”
Jayce trailed off, sounding fearful of the answer he’d give. Viktor bit his lip, keeping his body firmly turned away from him.
“I mean that it’s… cautiously optimistic.”
That was likely a lie. Even with talk of treatment Viktor knew what chances he really had, he could feel it in his aching bones.
Terminal.
But for now, Jayce didn’t need to know that. Maybe… he could hide it forever.
Behind him, Jayce hovered like he wanted to say something more, but instead, he just clapped Viktor lightly on the back.
“Okay. I’ll go get dinner, then. We haven’t eaten together in awhile,” Jayce said, already heading for the door. “Don’t work too hard, Mr. Talis.”
He was gone before Viktor could throw the chalk at him.
Viktor stared at the door, face blank, until a slow, quiet laugh escaped him. He pressed a hand over his face, feeling something warm settle in his chest like a blazing fire.
“Idiot,” he muttered, voice soft with something he refused to name. “Absolute idiot.”