Chapter Text
It’s been so long. Weeks and weeks of late nights filled with warm hugs and soft kisses, always ending with the inevitable falling asleep in each others’ arms. Some days, you’d awake on your couch, chest pressed against his as his hands lay on your back; as if to hold you in place. Others, you’d stir to the familiar sound of his humming, floating through the air as he prepares to head to the lab. Truthfully, he may not always be in the correct pitch, but you adored the happy sound.
This life was not incredibly exciting. Unlike some in the Undercity, or even here in Piltover, your lives were not filled with daring adventures or high-speed chases. Occasionally, the two of you would venture into the Undercity to visit friends, or even acquaintances, of Viktor’s. On these trips, you would have a fantastic home-cooked meal, or share a drink or two with some lively hosts. Each time you left the Undercity, you felt it’s gentle hold on your heart; beckoning you to come back soon.
Viktor had begun to take experiments home from the lab. Some nights, when he was unable to sleep, he would tinker at your desk, gaze hidden behind his thick goggles. If -by accident- he woke you, with a too-loud clang of a hammer or some bizarrely mystic boom, you would shuffle to the kitchen, wiping your eyes as you waited for the kettle to boil. Placing a steaming cup of sweet milk on the desk, you would plant a kiss amongst his nest of messy hair. In response, a hand would clutch your forearm gently, running its thumb along your skin soothingly. “I’m sorry if I woke you.” He’d speak in hushed tones. “Goodnight, my love.”
Most days, you would head to the library to work on your next big project. The decision to pursue further education had come easily to you. After all, Viktor practically lived at the academy. With your continued study, you were able to keep your apartment. For the most part, your academic life continued as usual.
Deep in thought, you trace his eyebrow with the tips of two fingers. It’s been around twenty minutes since you’ve woken up, but you can’t seem to actually get up. Slow, gentle breathing can be heard as his head rests its weight on your chest. One of his legs has made its way up your body, now resting comfortably against your hip bones. His hair had gotten longer since you’d met. What was once barely touching his ears had now grown far beyond them, flicking out in all directions and, on occasion, spilling over his forehead. As you run your fingers through his hair, you admire all the subtle highlighting through his hair. Over time, its dark brown base had become accentuated with varying shades of lighter brown. Maybe one day, you thought, listening idly to his quiet breaths, I’ll get to see stands of grey appear. Almost accidentally, the image came to you: Viktor, completely grey, weathered eyes closing as he smiles at you.
Reaching carefully so as not to disturb him, you manage to grab the journal and pen you keep on your bedside table. Since being with Viktor, you’ve used it to write down little notes. Nothing significant, but things that make you smile about him, like his favourite kind of cake, or his favourite place in Piltover to have a picnic.
Clicking your pen as softly as you can, you begin to write him a message:
Viktor.
As I'm writing this, you’re snoring peacefully in my arms.
I love you. Before I met you, I didn’t really know what that phrase meant. I’ve said it before, to the wrong people at the wrong time. But when I say it to you, I feel something I’ve never felt before. It’s some mixture of passion and fear, like I mean it so much that it scares me. I think I'm afraid of feeling something so strong. I can only imagine how terrible it would feel to lose this.
I don’t care what we do. We could sit here, all day and all night, forever, just chatting and laughing and being in each others’ company. We can travel the universe together; see everything we’ve ever wanted to see. Whatever we do, I know that I’ll be content, as long as I'm with you.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you,
Lea.
Eventually, you manage to slip out from under Viktor, tearing the letter (as quietly as you can) from your notebook and placing it on his chest before heading into the living room to prepare for the day ahead.
Just as you’ve begun buttoning your coat, key in hand, you hear your bedroom door open. Viktor’s walking stick taps gently against the floorboards as he heads towards you. When you turn to face him, you’re startled. Streaks of wet adorn his face, accompanied by glistening eyes. Placing his walking stick against the wall, he pulls you into a tight hug. As he does, you feel his arms cling onto you, preventing his body from collapsing. Shoving your key back into your coat pocket, you wrap your arms around him in a way that best supports his weight. For a while, the two of you remain this way, not making a sound. The feeling of his forehead resting on your shoulder is more than adequate.
“You are so kind.” When he does speak, his words are nearly unintelligible, as his lips are pressed so firmly into your coat. “Thank you.”
Aside from this, your day passes as usual. Yet still, in the back of your mind, you can’t help but think of him. As you leaf through one of your borrowed library books, planted firmly on a relatively comfortable desk chair, your mind drifts to how excited you are just to be home again; or to hear about how his day has been. Everyday you find yourself with a moment to look forward to in the near future; even if it’s just a few minutes with him.
At first, when you arrive home, chucking your keys onto the living room table with a sigh of relief, everything feels normal. Viktor isn’t home, but then again, he often stays late at the laboratory.
It’s only when you slump into the sofa, running your hands through your hair in an attempt to pull stray strands away from your face, do you notice a piece of paper beside where your keys have landed.
Interest piqued, you pick it up, recognising Viktor’s handwriting from the many scrawled notes he leaves scattered around your desk. Usually, he writes long, elaborate equations, or pages filled with hypotheses of theories. Instead, this page looks like it's for you.
Lea.
Your letter today brought me to tears. I thought it only fitting to write you something in return.
Meeting you was, undeniably, the luckiest I have ever been in my life. I can only thank you, with utmost sincerity, from the bottom of my heart. Life with you has been so incredible.
I am not the best at putting how I feel into words, but I am so completely and undoubtedly in love with you. You motivate me in ways I did not know possible.
I look forward to every future moment we spend together.
I am probably out at the minute buying ingredients for dinner. Do not bother trying to guess what it is - it’s a surprise!
Yours forever,
Viktor.
With trembling fingers, you hold the letter close to your chest. After a few deep breaths, you read it again, and again.
Thank you, VIktor.
Life is so much better with you.