How long have you two studied that dammed journal?
At first, you were having fun. You weren’t alone with that monumental task anymore! The author was clearly knowledgeable and careful enough to document their magic endeavours. This would be a lot easier if they didn’t go out of their way to encrypt every single sentence, though. You were starting to wonder if those hundreds of pages had any words at all and not just gibberish. Thank gods Viktor was interested in helping.
And you couldn’t ask for anything else. That man didn’t talk much, but spending every moment together was all you’ve ever wanted. You even started looking forward to your private study sessions.
But, as weeks went by, you began to feel something changed between you two. And not for good.
Fine, you could deal with the rumours about how you slept with him in exchange for good grades. Petty people talk was none of your concern, even if the idea of your parents hearing the rumours made your hands sweat...
Feeling the cold sweat on your forehead, you take a handkerchief and clean yourself as you try to focus back on your work. Whoever wrote that journal could’ve been writing an elaborate prank for future historians to find. Like all those runes that were believed sacred but all they said was “I was here”. However, the idea of stopping the decryption midway made a cold liquid burn in your throat.
No. You can’t stop now. Not when this is one of the few things that gives you purpose.
Viktor, as he often does, brings you back from your dwellings. But he doesn’t give another witty observation or another terrible attempt at a joke; he’s coughing. Again.
Unwilling to waste another second, you stand and make a run for a glass of water. Even as he tries to drink, it doesn’t seem to help much. It takes Viktor’s lungs a painfully long time to recover. “Are you okay?”
“Of course not, Y/N.” you reprimand yourself. His coughing fits are getting worse by the day. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he’s a smoker. But he’s usually the first one to complain about the smell.
“Yes,” Viktor lies through his teeth as he turns back to his scattered notes. “Just a sore throat. Go back to your work, Miss L/N.”
He calls you “Miss Y/N”. Not “Y/N” like he’s been doing since a couple weeks ago.
Unable to shake this feeling of dread, you pull a chair just to sit closer to Viktor, either to be able to help him quicker or just to close this divide he suddenly wanted to create. He’s too focused on the journal to notice you’re closer, which makes your heart sink. He’d usually clear his throat and stammer something whenever you invade his personal space. But now...
“Alright,” you hear yourself say, “What’s going on?”
“Hmmm?” Viktor’s gaze is still fixed on the thousand years old journal.
He’s avoiding you. “You know exactly what I’m talking about!” your usually soft voice now brims with rage you’ve been keeping to yourself for days. It was so unexpected it forces the man to look up.
And you’re too far gone to stop now; your stomach feels like a hollow rock, filled with lava and looking for a way out.
“You never, never call me by my last name!” you croak. Before Viktor can spill another lie, words just keep falling from your mouth. “Not only that, but you’ve been ignoring all my invitations to go out and eat, or just to read, or hang out. You never smile anymore! I’ve seen your handkerchiefs with stains of blood...!” and you’ve been stupid enough to wait for him to come around and tell you about his ailments. “Viktor, please. Jayce and Sky are worried too, they say you don’t even go home to sleep!”
And his heart clenches at your words. He’s been quite obvious, hasn’t he? The fact that he must lean more into his cane is not something he can conceal so easily, but he’s been trying to slowly cut everyone out, to push them away. He should’ve known better; of course, you’d notice something was wrong. He should’ve made the changes slower, he should have...
“... and it’s like you don’t want me around anymore!” your tears snap him back to reality. There’s nothing he wants more than to hug you, to tell you the truth, to tell someone how scared his prognosis makes him...
But you’re young. You’ll get over it. Over him. Everyone would, because his contributions will be short lived if he doesn’t hurry up and cracks the rune sequence that’ll stop the Hexcore from killing all the test subjects. The sequencing that will cure him. He’s sure the journal has the answers or, at the very least, some kind of key that’ll make all the pieces of the puzzle fit.
“Miss L/N”. He whispers, trying to keep the stoic expression he’s mostly known for. But his following words are unconvincing and is as if another man is speaking. Maybe it’s the man he was before Jayce, Sky and you came into the picture. “I’m sorry you feel that way. But I realized it’s better to keep a professional distance. I can’t risk my career for a...”
“For a what, Viktor?!”
From all the times you could start calling him by his name, why now?
Tears keep staining your cheeks as your throat gets sore. It takes everything in you to not yell at him. Viktor isn’t sure how he managed to hold your painful gaze as he kept lying through his teeth. “For a fleeting past time.”
Your eyes widen as if someone just shot you. Pierced through the heart, but never killed.
But Viktor can’t stop now. If he doesn’t push you away now, you might cling to him to the end. And he will hate himself if you spend your life taking care of a dying man with nothing to show for his years alive.
“You were right, Miss L/N. It is better if we keep this... strictly professional. It was a mistake on my part to make this more than it is; a convenient partnership. And, for that, I apologize...”
And you shake your head, you want to believe he’s lying. That there’s something (or someone) that’s coercing him to break your heart. Because this isn’t like him.
But then you take a better look at that hardened glare in those eyes.
What happened to all the “I’d like us to be friends. More than friends, if you’ll let me”? All the “I’ll always be there for you.”, the “You don’t have to face life on your own.” The “We can be lonely together”?!
Viktor watches as everything dawns and crashes on you. At least, one of you is smart enough to not keep pushing the boundaries that should’ve never been crossed.
You slam your fist on the desk, startling him. You open your mouth again and again but no sounds come out...
So you give up.
Instead, you haphazardly gather your things and throw them to your bag.
Viktor grimaces when you slam the door.