I've been posting "A beautiful, useless thing" here on this side account on Tumblr cause I was afraid that a female!Viktor wouldn't be well received by the fandom. But I'm tired of being afraid. I have an AO3 account and my main Tumblr account that would be able to reach a lot more readers. I don't even know how many will see this post, just like my fic that I've been keeping in a corner like I should be ashamed of it, but I worked really hard on it, I crafted it with care and lots of fun.
So, let me know if I should just do it and post it on my AO3 and my main Tumblr. I probably will anyway, but I wanted to ask those very few that have read it.
The lab was quiet, save for the steady hum of hextech cores and the distant murmur of the city beyond the tall windows. Normally, Viktoria found solace in this silence, in the rhythmic ticking of gears and the familiar scent of metal and ozone. But tonight, the quiet was suffocating.
She sat curled in the farthest corner of the laboratory, her knees drawn to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them as if she could hold herself together by force alone. The cold floor pressed against her legs through the thin fabric of her trousers, but she barely noticed. All she could feel was the ache in her chest, the gnawing, insidious weight of something she despised within herself.
Jealousy.
She had no right to feel this way. She knew that. She was a scientist first, always had been. Logic, reason, discovery those were the foundations of her existence. And yet, none of them could protect her from this wretched, human weakness twisting inside her like a rusted knife.
Viktoria had always known that Jayce was admired. That people looked at him and saw something larger than life a hero, a visionary, the golden child of Piltover. But Mel Medarda… she didn’t just admire him. She understood him in a way Viktoria never could. She was elegant, powerful, poised, everything Viktoria was not. A woman who commanded rooms with a glance, who belonged in the world Jayce was stepping into.
And Viktoria? She was the one left in the shadows, the one who reeked of oil and old paper, the one who belonged here in the lab, in the quiet spaces where people like Mel would never linger.
Her fingers dug into the fabric of her sleeves as she squeezed her eyes shut. She hated herself for feeling this. Hated that her hands trembled, that her breath came short and unsteady. Hated that, for the first time in her life, science was not enough to silence the storm in her mind.
Jayce had always been her partner, her friend, her constant. She had never needed to say anything aloud, never needed to name the warmth that bloomed in her chest when he smiled at her, or the way her heartbeat stuttered when he called her brilliant. It had been enough just to be beside him, to build, to create, to change the world together.
But now, he was slipping away into a world she did not belong to. A world of polished halls and whispered politics. A world where Viktoria was just a forgotten name on a research paper while Mel sat beside him, radiant and untouchable.
The realization burned.
She let out a slow, shuddering breath and forced herself to look at her hands. Thin, scarred from too many sleepless nights spent repairing machines that never cared for her in return.
This was who she was. A scientist. A mind before anything else. She had no right to want more.
And yet, as she sat there in the dim glow of their lab, invisible and forgotten, she could not stop the silent war waging inside her.
Because for the first time in her life, Viktoria was afraid.
Afraid that she was losing him.
And even worse afraid that she had never truly had him to begin with.
Days passed.
Whatever had changed between them after their last conversation seemed to have settled—smoothed out like the surface of a lake after a storm. The ripples had faded, leaving only stillness in their wake. Viktoria acted like always: focused, efficient, buried in her work. Jayce did the same, pushing forward with his projects, sliding into that routine that had once felt so natural between them.
And yet, something wasn’t the same anymore.
He couldn’t name it—not exactly. But a quiet unease had taken root in his chest, persistent, impossible to ignore. It wasn’t tension. It wasn’t guilt, or resentment, or anything that simple. But it was there.
Maybe it was the way she didn’t argue with him anymore—not like she used to. Or maybe it was the way she met his eyes without hesitation, yet there was something… lighter in her gaze. Not relief. More like the trace of something she’d let go of.
And he should’ve felt better about that.
But he didn’t.
So when the invitation to the Council’s gala arrived, Jayce was already prepared for Viktoria’s usual answer: a firm, disinterested no. She never went to those things. They weren’t her scene, and she had no patience for hollow formalities.
But this time, there was no way out. The Council had made her presence mandatory.
He expected her to protest, to grumble about wasted time and pointless social rituals. Instead, she just sighed and said, “Very well.”
It shouldn’t have bothered him.
But it did.
The gala was exhausting—as always.
Handshakes, fake smiles, reassurances about Hextech’s future. The usual blend of admiration and skepticism from the Council, the crushing weight of their expectations on his shoulders. And, of course, Mel—gliding effortlessly through the crowd, keeping him close, steering him like a polished showpiece.
Jayce was used to all of it by now.
What he wasn’t used to was the way Viktoria was ignored.
She came to these events so rarely he always forgot: it wasn’t overt rudeness—no one rejected her to her face. But maybe that was worse. She was invisible. A shadow at the edge of conversations, acknowledged with a distracted nod at best, never invited to join the talks about the very work she’d poured her life into.
And it made him angry.
Angrier than he wanted to admit.
At first, he thought Viktoria would say something, let that sharp tongue of hers slice through the gala’s stiff air. But she didn’t. She didn’t even seem surprised. Or annoyed.
She didn’t even seem interested.
And that —that infuriated him even more.
He moved before thinking.
Took her by the arm—not roughly, but firm enough to make her whip her head around in surprise as he pulled her beside him.
“Jayce—”
“Come on,” he said, ignoring her silent resistance.
He didn’t ask permission. He didn’t wait. He didn’t care about Mel’s irritated look or the Council’s confused expressions.
He started introducing her—to everyone. Not casually, not in passing, but with clear, deliberate intent.
Viktoria—who had been essential to the development of Hextech. Viktoria—who had worked tirelessly, pushed the limits of science, been there from the very beginning.
She stiffened under the sudden attention, discomfort radiating off her in waves, but Jayce didn’t stop. Not until he saw the shift—the way people finally looked at her. The way they were forced to see her.
Not until Viktoria turned toward him, frustration flashing dangerously in her eyes.
“Jayce,” she hissed through clenched teeth, voice tight. “ Enough. ”
And for the first time that evening, he really looked at her.
She was tired.
Not just from tonight. From all of it.
From the forced interactions, the hypocrisy, from being overlooked—not just this evening, but likely for far longer than he’d ever noticed.
That realization hit him like a punch to the chest.
So he let her go.
Mel didn’t say anything, but her glare was sharp as he led Viktoria away from the main hall and into one of the adjacent rooms. The muted buzz of the gala faded as the door shut behind them, leaving silence in its place.
Viktoria sank into a chair, resting her cane against her knee.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then finally, she looked up at him with a tired sigh.
“What the hell was that?”
Jayce ran a hand through his hair, stepping closer.
“I couldn’t take it,” he said quietly. “The way they looked at you. Or didn’t look at you at all. Like you weren’t even there.”
“As if that’s anything new.” Viktoria shrugged, leaning back and closing her eyes for a second, exhaling. “It doesn’t matter.”
He frowned. “It matters to me. ”
Something in her gaze flickered. She stared at him for a long beat, something unreadable behind her eyes. Then she sighed again, shut her eyes briefly, and shook her head. “You’re exhausting.”
Jayce laughed softly, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”
She didn’t answer right away. When she finally did, her voice was gentler.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes,” Jayce said. “I did.”
Viktoria inhaled through her nose, pressing her fingers to her temples. “It won’t change anything, you know.”
“Maybe not,” he admitted. Then, after a pause, he added, “But I see you, Vika. I just… wanted you to know that.”
For the first time that night, her shoulders relaxed. Just a little.
Enough for the knot in Jayce’s chest to loosen.
This time, the silence between them wasn’t strained.
And for the first time, Jayce didn’t feel like he was standing on the edge of a bridge.
He’d already crossed it.
Viktoria studied him in the soft light of the empty room, her expression unreadable.
She sighed, smoothing out her skirt with a small grimace of discomfort.
Jayce could still hear the faint hum of music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses coming from the main ballroom, but in that quiet space, everything felt distant. Everything except Viktoria, who he only now noticed was wearing a long cream and burgundy dress, with intricate golden detailing wrapping around her hips, shoulders, and wrists. A high tulle collar flowed into a V-shaped backline that revealed a strip of pale skin—and part of her brace.
Simple, especially compared to the high-fashion outfits imported straight from Ionia worn by the other high-society guests, and yet… on her, it was breathtaking.
From where she stood, turned slightly to the side, Jayce could catch the soft curve of her neck as it dipped down her spine.
Sensing his gaze, though not seeming to mind, Viktoria’s eyes settled on him—tired, but steady. “You should head back,” she said, adjusting her gloves. “Mel’s probably looking for you.”
Jayce let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, yanked back into reality. He raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t care.”
Viktoria raised her brows, just barely.
“That… doesn’t sound like you.”
Jayce gave a dry laugh.
“Yeah, well… maybe I’m tired of always playing the same damn role.”
He turned fully toward her.
“And I’m tired. Tired of watching you be treated like you’re not the reason this entire thing exists. Tired of standing there while they ignore you just because you don’t fit their perfect image of a Piltover genius.”
Viktoria exhaled softly through her nose and shifted slightly in her seat.
“I told you already, Jayce. I don’t care.”
“And I told you—I do.”
Something flickered in her eyes.
For a long moment, neither of them said anything.
Jayce crossed his arms, staring down at the intricate patterns on the floor.
“Maybe I didn’t notice before,” he admitted, voice lower. “Or maybe… I didn’t want to notice. I let them parade me around like their golden boy. Let them shake my hand, praise my ‘brilliance’... while pretending you weren’t even there. Right next to me. I know you don’t usually mind but…”
He clenched his jaw. “But tonight, it just—” he exhaled, shaking his head. “It pissed me off, Vika. And I don’t even know why.”
She watched him for a long while, then finally sighed.
“Because you have a strong sense of justice,” she said simply. “And you can’t stand injustice, even when it benefits you.”
Jayce let out a bitter laugh. “That’s a much prettier way of saying I’ve been blind this whole time.”
A faint smile tugged at her lips.
“Maybe. Or maybe you’re just finally seeing things a little more clearly.”
Jayce frowned—something in her tone hit him oddly deep in the chest.
She reached for her cane and slowly stood, her movements more sluggish than usual. Instinctively, Jayce moved to help her, but she stopped him with a small gesture, regaining her balance on her own.
“I should get back to the party,” she said. “Unlike you, I’m actually expected to be there—at least tonight.”
Jayce sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Viktoria gave him a look. Then, after a brief pause, she reached out—her gloved fingers brushing lightly against the collar of his jacket. She straightened it, smoothing the fabric against his chest. It was the gentlest touch, barely there, but enough to make him freeze.
“…Thank you, Jayce.”
Before he could say anything, she’d already turned and started toward the doors. She cracked one open, a sliver of light falling across her face.
“Ah, looks like my date’s arrived,” she said, just before the door closed behind her.
Jayce stood frozen long after she’d gone, staring at the spot where she had been.
Her what ?
Link to AO3 for this story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64607005/chapters/166026910
Jayce wasn’t exactly sure when he’d lost sight of Viktoria. And he didn’t just mean at the gala—though yeah, also at the gala. But the distance he was talking about felt different. One moment, she was right there, just a few steps away, thanking him, smiling up at him, her hand brushing his chest. The next moment, she was gone.
In that sea of people and empty conversations, he searched for her, all while those damn words kept echoing in his head— “My date.”
“What the hell,” he muttered under his breath. Why hadn’t she asked him to be her date? Why didn’t he know anything about it? Sure, the invites allowed a plus one, but... come on, he’d just assumed that—
He found her. And the second he did, hot irritation flared in his chest.
That damn assistant.
The same one from the lab. The one who acted way too familiar with Viktoria. The one who stood just close enough to touch her.
Jayce had never paid much attention to him before—just another name, another face, one of the many who came and went through the academy. But now, seeing him lean toward her, seeing that smile aimed at Viktoria like she was something rare, something within reach—Jayce’s hands curled into fists. That guy had actually had the guts to ask her? And she had said yes? Was that why she hadn’t protested when she heard about the gala? And what if... what if she’d invited him herself? No. No way. Absolutely unthinkable. That little worm must’ve planned the whole thing since he dragged her out of their lab that day. Sneaky bastard.
The worst part? Viktoria wasn’t pushing him away.
She wasn’t exactly encouraging him either—her posture was composed, her expression unreadable—but she wasn’t stopping him. And that? That was new. Viktoria didn’t let people close.
Except, apparently, him.
Jayce barely registered Mel talking beside him—something about a senator or a deal—because all he could focus on was Viktoria, tilting her head slightly, listening to whatever the hell that bastard was saying. The assistant laughed at his own words, leaning in even closer— too close.
Jayce’s jaw tightened.
He told himself it wasn’t his problem.
And yet—
When he saw the assistant reach out—a small, casual gesture, his fingers brushing the sleeve of Viktoria’s dress—instinct kicked in.
Before he even realized what he was doing, he was already there.
“Vika, there you are,” he said, stepping between them so abruptly the assistant had to take a step back. “I’ve been looking for you.”
It was a lie. He hadn’t been looking for her. He’d been watching her. But there was no way he was admitting that.
Viktoria blinked, clearly surprised. “…Really?”
“Yeah,” Jayce said firmly, then turned to the assistant with a polite— too polite—smile. “Hey, don’t think we’ve met. You are?”
The assistant, to his credit, didn’t seem fazed. “Dorian Faulk,” he said, offering a hand. “I’m with the research division.”
Jayce didn’t take it.
Instead, he placed a hand on Viktoria’s shoulder—a casual, familiar, territorial gesture—and said, “Well, Dorian, thanks for keeping my partner company, but I actually need to borrow her for a moment. Lab business.”
Viktoria narrowed her eyes slightly. “It’s not work hours, Jayce.”
Only once they were far enough did Viktoria stop, pulling out of his grip. “That was petty.”
Jayce sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “Seriously?”
“Yes.” Viktoria’s gaze was sharp, analytical. “Since when do you care who I talk to?”
Jayce opened his mouth. Closed it again.
What the hell was he supposed to say? That he didn’t care? That’d be a lie. That he did care? That would be admitting way too much.
“…Apparently, since now,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Viktoria studied him for a long moment before letting out a small sigh. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Maybe.” Jayce glanced back toward Dorian, now talking to someone else. His jaw clenched again. “But so is he if he thinks he’s got a shot with you.”
Viktoria tilted her head. “And why not?”
Jayce hesitated. His stomach twisted.
Because it should be me.
Wait— what? He mentally punched himself.
“…No reason,” he said finally, voice low. “Forget it.”
He glanced at her sideways. “You know, you could’ve told me you were bringing a date.”
A waiter walked by with a large silver tray full of gleaming champagne flutes. Viktoria took one. She didn’t drink—hated the taste of alcohol—but brought it delicately to her nose and inhaled the scent, eyes half-lidded.
Jayce suddenly felt very thirsty.
“I didn’t think it was relevant,” Viktoria replied at last. “You’re someone’s date too, aren’t you? I don’t recall making a fuss about it.”
“Oh, come on, Vika. This gala is basically Mel’s. She doesn’t need a date in her own house, does she? I’m more of a guest than anything.”
Viktoria folded her arms around herself with a wicked—and, Jayce thought, painfully attractive—smirk, tilting her head. “Well, look at that. Jayce Talis, the man of progress, crashing a party no one invited him to go with. What a scandal.”
Jayce clasped his hands behind his back. “Not exactly. I’m pretty sure I walked through that front door with you.” He nodded toward the grand entrance behind them.
At that, Viktoria furrowed her brow—not confused, but as if the direction this conversation was taking no longer amused her. “Are you saying you were my date, Jayce?”
Jayce squinted, shrugging like it was no big deal. “I just kinda assumed I was.”
Her grip on the glass tightened. Her lips pressed into a thin, unimpressed line. “I don’t remember you asking me.”
Jayce opened his mouth like a fish, brain short-circuiting. He had just assumed. Real smooth, scientist. Really smooth. “W-well... I mean—I just—” He scratched at his chin, feeling as trapped as a mouse.
“Because you assumed no one would ask me.”
A big, dumb, idiotic mouse.
She sighed. “Forget it.” Viktoria didn’t press. But the way she looked at him—calm, knowing—made his stomach twist even harder. “I’d better make this night useful and ensure the investors don’t find a reason to slash our funding.”
Jayce nodded and watched her walk away, disappearing into the crowd.
For the rest of the evening, no matter how hard he tried, Jayce couldn’t get Dorian out of his head—or how badly he wanted to trap that idiot’s hands between the hammer and the anvil of his forge.
The night was finally winding down, but Jayce still felt restless.
He’d spent the evening playing his part—shaking hands, offering reassurances, smiling for the sake of appearances. Yet none of it had mattered. Not the Council members, not the discussions about Hextech, not even Mel standing by his side.
His mind was elsewhere.
On her.
The assistant hadn’t approached her again, and Viktoria had moved through the guests just enough to keep them content, making sure she wouldn’t have to attend another event like this for at least a year—maybe more, if she’d played her cards right.
She was now near the exit, speaking to one of the event organizers, her posture still composed despite the clear fatigue on her face. The sharp lines of her usual uniform were softened by the evening dress she’d reluctantly worn, but her presence hadn’t changed—calm, poised, untouchable.
But not to him.
Right?
Jayce didn’t hesitate as he made his way toward her, completely ignoring Mel’s pointed stare from across the room.
He should’ve stayed. At least said goodbye.
He didn’t.
“Ready to go?” he asked, stopping beside her.
She raised an eyebrow. “You’re leaving?”
Jayce sighed, glancing around at the lingering guests. “I think I’ve had enough of this crowd for one night.”
Viktoria made a soft sound of understanding. “Mel won’t be thrilled.”
“She’ll live.” He shrugged, then nodded toward the door. “You’re taking a carriage?”
Viktoria’s gaze drifted to one of the windows, where the cool night air seemed to beckon. “I was thinking of stepping out for a bit. Clear my head... you know, recalibrate.”
He nodded, signaling at another organizer for his coat “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”
Viktoria hesitated. “That’s not necessary.”
“But I want to,” Jayce said, before he could stop himself. “So let’s go.”
She didn’t argue. The organizer handed her coat over. Jayce helped her into it.
The streets of Piltover were quiet at that hour, the usual bustle muted beneath the soft glow of the streetlamps. The silence between them stretched, comfortable at first, but Jayce knew it wouldn’t last. Not after everything.
Eventually, he sighed. “Alright. Just say it.”
Viktoria glanced at him. “Say what?”
“You’ve been waiting this whole time to scold me first, haven’t you?”
She let out a quiet breath, something close to amusement. “What would be the point? You know you were being ridiculous.”
Jayce groaned. “You’re saying it anyway.”
“Because it’s true.” Viktoria adjusted her grip on her cane, walking steadily beside him. “You were acting like a child with Dorian.”
Jayce’s hands tightened in his pockets. He knew that. And still…
“He was all over you,” he muttered.
Viktoria gave him a flat look. “He was standing next to me.”
“Exactly.”
She sighed, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”
Jayce ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I don’t know, okay? It just… got under my skin.”
“And why’s that?” Viktoria asked—not accusing, not demanding. Just curious.
Jayce stopped. She turned to face him, waiting. That question again.
He only noticed now, but she’d been asking it for days: why?
Why couldn’t he handle her ignoring him?
Why had he lost it when she walked off with that assistant?
Why did it piss him off so much just to see another man look at her?
Why had he needed to interrupt, interfere, stake a claim he had no right to make?
His throat felt dry.
“…Forget it,” he said at last, shaking his head.
Viktoria watched him for a moment before letting out a quiet breath. “Jayce.”
There was something in the way she said his name—steady, calm, quietly final.
“This can’t keep going,” she said simply.
Jayce felt the words hit like a punch to the ribs. “…What do you mean?”
Her expression didn’t change. “Whatever this is between us. Whatever you think it is—it has to end.”
“I—” His voice cracked. “I don’t—”
“I’ve accepted it,” she said, firm and unwavering. “And you should too.”
Accepted what? That things weren’t the same anymore? That the part of his life where it had always been just the two of them—where they had always understood each other without needing to speak—was over?
His stomach twisted.
Viktoria turned and started walking again. Jayce followed, but for the first time, he didn’t know how to close the distance between them.
He’d always thought Viktoria was the one who didn’t understand emotions.
But now, as they moved forward in silence, he started to realize—maybe he had never really understood her at all.
The walk to Viktoria’s apartment was silent. Heavy.
Jayce’s mind was a storm—thoughts crashing into each other, none of them making sense, none of them able to fix what was happening.
And then they arrived. Standing still in front of her door.
Viktoria reached for her keys, but Jayce stepped forward before she could go inside. His hand clenched into a fist at his side before he finally spoke, voice low and tense.
“I don’t want to.”
She paused, fingers still resting on the doorknob. “Jayce.”
“I don’t want to,” he repeated, more certain this time. “I don’t want things to change.”
Viktoria let out a quiet breath, but didn’t look at him. “They already have.”
Jayce shook his head. “I don’t want them to.”
“It’s not about what you want.”
“I want to be the one beside you,” he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “I want to be your partner. I want things to go back to the way they were.”
At that, Viktoria finally turned her head to meet his eyes. There was something unreadable in her expression, something distant—something final.
Her voice was a whisper when she spoke.
“I don’t.”
Jayce felt the air leave his lungs.
She turned back, opened the door, took one step—
And he caught her wrist.
Not roughly, not angrily. Desperately.
She froze.
Jayce swallowed hard. His hand trembled slightly as he held onto her, the grip gentle enough for her to pull away at any moment.
But she didn’t.
Not right away.
“…Viktoria.” His voice was barely more than a breath. He had a sudden, terrifying thought—a dreadful instinct that shifted into certainty, then into fear.
Slowly, she turned her head just enough to look back at him over her shoulder. And in the dim glow of the streetlights, he saw it—just for a second. The hesitation. The crack in her perfectly composed expression.
But then it was gone.
She exhaled softly, eyes dropping to the ground. “Let me go, Jayce.”
His grip faltered.
And finally, he let her go.
Viktoria didn’t say another word. She just stepped inside and closed the door behind her.
Leaving Jayce there, staring at the wood, heart pounding far too hard in his chest.
He understood now—he finally did. And still, he didn’t know what to do. For the first time, his brilliant, intuitive, fast-working mind was stuck—completely frozen, without a single solution.
And he had no idea how to handle the weight of that paralyzing realization.
All he knew was that he hated the feeling in his chest—that horrible, crushing thing he couldn’t even name.
All he knew was that he had just lost something.
Something so precious, not even the most powerful Arcane magic could bring it back.
He had lost Viktoria’s love.
And he had no idea how to get it back.
I got the idea and inspiration for this fic a long time ago thanks to a fanart I saw—but unfortunately, I lost track of it not long after. Today, I finally managed to find it again and track down the artist's account!! If you’re curious about how I picture Viktoria, here’s the link to the post! Please show the artist lots of love—they’re the reason this fic exists!
Viktoria's fanart by Rikku
Link to AO3 for this story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64607005/chapters/166026910
The tension in the lab was so thick it could suffocate.
Jayce sat at his usual spot, fists clenched under the table, eyes locked onto the schematics in front of him as if they had personally offended him. He hadn’t spoken a single word to Viktoria all morning—not that she seemed to care.
She worked, methodical and detached as always, as if last night’s argument had never happened. As if he wasn’t sitting just a few feet away, stewing in his own frustration.
Jayce could have ignored it—should have ignored it.
But he was stubborn, and Viktoria… Viktoria was worse.
She was calm, unshaken, always logical. But when she set her mind on something, it was like trying to move a mountain.
And right now, she had apparently decided that he no longer existed.
Jayce exhaled sharply through his nose, scribbling something on the blueprint just to keep his hands busy. Fine. If she wanted to act like she didn’t care, then so could he.
The thought of finally breaking the silence, of forcing her to acknowledge the tension between them, crossed his mind—when the lab door suddenly swung open, and an unfamiliar voice shattered the quiet.
“Here you go, Professor.”
Jayce frowned, looking up.
A young man stood in the doorway—one of the lab assistants—holding a neatly bound stack of documents. Tall, lanky, probably in his early twenties. He didn’t have that stiff, self-important air most of the Academy scholars carried, the kind that made them seem perpetually weighed down by their own significance. No, this guy had an easy confidence about him.
But more than anything, he was too comfortable with Viktoria.
Jayce knew what Viktoria did to people. Even without trying, she intimidated—sometimes even frightened—them. Piltover intellectuals were arrogant, sure, but they knew genius when they saw it. And with Viktoria, there was always an invisible line, one that few dared to cross.
This guy? He had stepped right over it without hesitation.
Viktoria barely looked up from her desk, reaching out to take the documents. “You were quick.”
He smiled. “What can I say? I’m efficient.”
Jayce’s frown deepened.
The assistant set the stack of papers down, leaning against the table with a casual ease that felt completely out of place. “Had to convince Professor Lyndon, though. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about signing off so fast.”
“Lyndon is never thrilled about anything,” Viktoria murmured, flipping through the pages.
The assistant laughed.
Jayce knew that dry tone of Viktoria’s all too well. And he had always been the only one to laugh at her jokes.
“True,” the assistant agreed. “But I may have promised him an explanation of your latest theories on energy distribution.” He shot Viktoria a knowing look. “Which means you owe me one.”
Viktoria sighed, shaking her head—but was that amusement?
Jayce didn’t even have time to process it before it happened.
It was barely noticeable. A slight shift. Viktoria was reaching for something when, for just an instant, her injured leg gave out. A tiny misstep, almost imperceptible.
But the assistant noticed.
And without hesitation, he placed a hand on her arm to steady her.
The worst part? Viktoria let him.
Only for a second—just long enough to regain her balance—but it was enough.
Something twisted violently in Jayce’s chest.
It was nothing. It wasn’t a problem. Viktoria wasn’t fragile, and she sure as hell wasn’t the type to accept help unless it was absolutely necessary. And yet, she had accepted it—without irritation, without pushing him away.
And Jayce?
Jayce was absolutely, fucking paralyzed.
He didn’t know what to do with this feeling, this suffocating knot in his chest. It wasn’t even rational. It wasn’t even—
“Professor, are you free later?”
Jayce blinked, snapped back to reality, his heart pounding as he realized the guy was still standing too damn close.
Viktoria didn’t look up. “Why?”
“I thought we could go over the Academy’s feedback together. Might save you some time.”
She hesitated for a fraction of a second. “That would be efficient.”
The assistant grinned. “Perfect. I’ll meet you at the main entrance.”
And that was when Jayce did something utterly humiliating.
He made a noise.
Not a word—nothing intelligible—just an involuntary, strangled sound that escaped before he could stop it. Something between a grunt and a protest, the kind of noise that bursts out when something deeply, irreversibly wrong is happening right in front of you.
The assistant turned, confused. Viktoria, at last, looked at him.
Jayce froze.
And then, because he was an idiot, he plastered a look of perfect indifference onto his face, pretending like nothing had happened.
Viktoria narrowed her eyes, as if trying to decipher something, then shook her head and turned back to the assistant.
“All right.”
Jayce clenched his jaw so tightly it hurt.
The assistant gave a quick nod before heading for the door. “See you later, Professor.”
Jayce didn’t even realize he was glaring daggers at the guy until Viktoria turned toward him again.
For a moment, they just stared at each other.
And for the first time in their long, complicated partnership, Jayce had absolutely no idea what to say.
So, like a coward, he said nothing.
Viktoria didn’t press. She grabbed her cane, straightened up, and walked out.
Leaving Jayce there, fists clenched, stomach in knots, feeling more frustrated than he had ever felt in his entire goddamn life.
Jayce stormed out of the lab, his footsteps echoing against the polished floor—quick, heavy, restless. He had no destination—not yet. He just knew he had to move, to get away before he lost control.
His chest felt tight, every breath a weight he struggled to bear. His fists remained clenched, knuckles pale. The anger burned—wild, unrelenting—a fire without a name raging beneath his skin.
The argument with Viktoria had been… what, exactly?
A misunderstanding? A disagreement? No. A complete goddamn disaster.
He should’ve felt relieved to have walked away. To have left behind her cold, cutting gaze, her words like scalpels—precise, merciless in their intent.
But he didn’t.
If anything, the farther he got, the more the frustration coiled around his chest like a noose tightening with every step.
For a brief moment, he considered going to Mel.
But the thought faded almost instantly, leaving behind a bitter taste.
Lately, she’d been distant—more than usual. And Jayce, for all his brilliance, had learned to recognize the signs of someone pulling away. He’d ignored them for a while, pretended not to notice. But they were there.
And the truth was, he wasn’t even sure Mel had ever really been his.
He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair in a nervous gesture.
Did it even matter?
Mel was… Mel. Flawless in her elegance, sharp and untouchable. She had drawn him in like a moth to a flame, dazzling him with her light, making him believe he could belong in her world.
But this anger—this fucking anger boiling inside him—wasn’t about her.
It was about the lab.
The one place where everything had always made sense.
Where the work had meaning.
Where even he had meaning, beyond politics, beyond titles, beyond expectations.
Where Viktoria was.
And that thought—that damn thought—was what made him stop in his tracks.
Because she didn’t want him there anymore.
She was shutting him out. Pushing him away.
And for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why that was the thing driving him insane.
Jayce exhaled harshly, finding himself at a crossroads.
He could keep walking, let his thoughts torment him until sunrise.
Or he could go home.
The decision made itself. He turned toward his apartment, jaw tight, shoulders tense.
It wasn’t until he reached the steps of his building that he realized the last thought that had crossed his mind before leaving the lab.
Is she staying there all night?
The question slid into his mind like a thin blade.
Jayce scoffed, pushing the door open harder than necessary.
It didn’t matter.
It shouldn’t matter.
And yet, as he lay staring at the ceiling in the darkness of his room, unable to sleep, he found himself wondering if Viktoria had ever gone home.
Jayce wasn’t waiting.
Not at all.
He was just… working.
Focusing on his projects, perfecting some calculations, ignoring everything else.
Except the lab felt damn too quiet.
Every time the door didn’t open, his irritation grew. The clock on the wall kept ticking away, and he ground his teeth as the time stretched into an hour. Then two.
It was stupid—getting worked up over something so trivial—but his mind couldn’t let go of the image of that assistant walking next to Viktoria. Too close.
And then the thought got even worse.
He imagined them at a café—one of those cozy, ridiculously expensive spots that students loved. The assistant, with his stupid, confident air, would probably try to impress her, maybe offer her a coffee.
And Viktoria—logical, detached Viktoria—would politely refuse because she didn’t drink coffee.
She preferred sweet, warm, creamy drinks. Milk with honey.
And Jayce knew that.
Only Jayce knew that.
The thought gave him a petty satisfaction, a small, smug tightness in his chest. Because he was her partner. He was the one who worked by her side, who knew her habits, her rhythms, her mind.
That idiot assistant knew nothing.
The clock ticked again. Two full hours.
Jayce was already halfway out of his chair, ready to leave the lab and go find her, when the door finally opened.
She walked in with her usual composed grace, impassive, as if she hadn’t just been gone for an eternity.
Jayce, still standing, turned to face her, arms crossed. His voice came out sharper than he intended.
He raised an eyebrow, tone biting. “Took you quite a while to talk about some papers.”
Viktoria calmly placed the stack of papers on the desk, her face unreadable. “Yes. It was a thorough discussion. The professors had many points to go over.”
Jayce scoffed. “Ah, sure. And I bet the assistant had nothing to do with the delay.”
If she noticed the sharpness in his words, she didn’t show it. She tilted her head slightly, studying him with a hint of amusement. “Am I now supposed to report every single movement I make to you?”
Jayce stiffened. “That’s not what I—” He sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just that… It feels like a long time to be gone, that’s all.”
She made a low sound, clearly unimpressed. “Not everyone has your oratorical talents. Some people actually need to be listened to when presenting a project; a fake smile and a fancy dinner aren’t enough. Maybe you’ve forgotten that.”
He ignored the sarcasm, jaw clenched. “You know that’s not how it is. My work in the Council benefits both of us, it takes up time, but the heart of Hextech is here, with us. If we let ourselves get distracted—”
“Distracted,” Viktoria repeated with a sarcastic laugh. Then she fixed him with a sharp, steady gaze. “Yet I don’t recall ever signing an agreement that prevents me from existing outside of your presence.”
Jayce gritted his teeth. Why did she always have to be this way? So damn calm, while he felt like he was burning from the inside?
“It’s not—Ugh, damn it, Viktoria—” He exhaled, his voice lowering into a rougher, tenser tone. “I’m just saying you’ve never taken this long, that’s all.”
She watched him in silence for a moment. Then—
“You’re ridiculous.”
Jayce blinked. “Excuse me?”
Viktoria simply returned to her desk, as if the conversation was already over. “I won’t apologize for existing outside of this lab, Jayce. If that’s a problem for you, it’s something you’ll have to solve, not me.”
That infuriatingly unwavering calm—she made him lose his mind.
And the worst part?
She was right.
Jayce had no reason to be this upset.
But seeing her so indifferent, as if nothing had changed—as if he hadn’t been literally losing his mind for two stupid hours—only made it worse.
So, instead of responding, he huffed, turned, and dropped back into his chair with more force than necessary.
“Do whatever you want.”
Viktoria gave a slight shrug. “That was already my plan.”
