It was a late afternoon in early summer; the sun was bright and pink streaming over Vallo, and due to the longer days, had no intention of going to bed anytime soon. Like certain scientists who ought to know better and didn’t. Viktor was still pretty bad about his sleep schedule, but it had improved considerably here, given the presence of Mel and Jayce and the accountability living with them had fostered. It was about the time of day when people quit work and started dinner; for Viktor, it was time for a brief break, maybe, with a hazy thought toward eating something maybe around nine.
But not today. Today, he had an actual plan.
The rooftop of Morningside was pretty, he decided, looking down over Vallo. He could see the sea from here, which was novel. Back home, clouds had mixed with pollution, making visibility from Piltover a dicy prospect. Viktor sat in a chair by the corner, a medium-sized box placed to the side of his cane, and as he took a sip of the coffee he’d brought up, he tried to be less nervous. As a rule, despite his quiet, introverted nature Viktor wasn’t an anxious person. People assumed he was, generally, because he sometimes struggled for words and could come off as awkward. But he was strong in his opinions, and largely uncaring what most thought of him, save a select group of those closest to him… which he hadn’t anticipated including Councilor Mel Medarda. He had left her a note on her easel earlier this morning inviting her up to chat at five. It was ludicrous to count the minutes, but here he was.
There was a time - not even that long ago - when Mel would have dreaded a surprise meeting on a rooftop. Not because it was with Viktor, but because it was an unknown. Something she didn't plan and had no way to prepare for. But as she climbed the few stairs between the top floor and the roof, she actually felt a flutter of nerves. The good kind.
The view when she opened the door didn't hurt. Mel let a soft smile grow on her face as she spotted Viktor and shut the door behind her. "If you mean to break bad news, this is a good choice of setting," she joked lightly. She was reasonably certain there wasn't any bad news right now. They were arguably a little better about talking things out since the hexcore arrived. "And I do have a weakness for a great view either way." She sat down on the roof's ledge near his chair and peered over the edge, all graceful long limbs and confidence.
Viktor straightened, looking over his shoulder as she approached. “I remember,” he said, the statement simple to match his small smile even if the sentiment was not. When first he’d learned of Mel’s propensity for painting vistas, he’d cynically thought: of course. Here was the artist looming large over tiny blots of color that were people. The city looked malleable, toylike. It wasn’t until he knew Mel better that he realized this wasn’t about power so much as responsibility: she took as much care in rendering the small fisherman family playing on the sand as she did the glittering towers of the wealthy.
Viktor nudged a chair with his foot toward her, and set his cup of coffee on the side table. He wasn’t wearing his glove; Mel knew of the augmentation and it was getting to be too hot to hide. “No bad news,” he added, not wanting to draw things out. “I’ve something for you. Just because.”
Her eyes were drawn to his exposed augmentation and then to the box. Despite the semi-public location, there was something quietly intimate here and it pleased her. She moved to sit in the chair offered and smirked.
"Just because." She believed him. More than that, she appreciated that her mind wasn't immediately filled with suspicion. Viktor didn't set off her ulterior motive bells and that was worth almost as much as any gift. Well, she assumed anyway. The box could be filled with something ridiculous for all she knew about Viktor's gift-giving ways. "May I?" She reached for the box and at his nod, she lifted the lid.
The item inside was not ridiculous. It was surprising, though. There were intricate gears and metal balls that looked like planets. She lifted a warm, curious gaze to his face. "Am I going to need a science lesson to fully appreciate this gift?"
Viktor laughed, under his breath. “I don’t think so. You’ll see it in a moment. Think… less abstract science, and more astronomy. Here, give that crank a few turns.”
The complex brass figures began to move as she cranked the box, springing to life in rectilinear orbits around one another. It was the solar system - the one from home - with its familiar sun and moons and planets winking in and out of view from the small round planet Piltover had taken root upon. A tune played - a medley from Moulin Rouge. The planets moved gracefully, glowing in the afternoon light, exposing a small, locked door at the base of the box. Viktor pulled a matching key from his pocket and pressed it to her hand.
“It’s been years since I’ve made a music box,” he said, wrinkling his nose as he surveyed it with a critical eye. “But I think the mechanism is sound. They were what I learned on, before I attended classes at the University. Movement, propulsion, cause and effect, visual and auditory variation… You had said you were interested in my attempts at painting, and that… it’s not so good. But this I know how to do.” His parents had made them, sold them, and similar house wares. They were training wheels, really, to toy sailboats, then miniature airships, then magic-based engineering… He glanced back at Mel, suddenly worried that it was a silly present, some brass tinkering when she was accustomed to affording whatever art she wanted. He knew how to read Jayce well, by now, but Mel? Not as thoroughly.
“Oh.” Mel’s eyes lit up as the music box began to move and revolve, catching the dwindling afternoon light across its metallic surfaces. It wasn’t what she pictured when Viktor had spoken of music boxes; it was infinitely better. Art from a scientific mind. Charming. Personal. She ran her fingers over the details and smiled as she realized what song was playing. “Viktor…”
Keeping one hand on the device so it didn’t fall, Mel leaned forward in her chair to grab him gently by the face and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. It may have been chaste, but the way she lingered there wasn’t. Neither was the timbre of her voice. “Thank you. It’s beautiful. And special. I’ve never gotten a gift quite like it.” She stayed close, but she lifted the music box into the air with one hand and tilted her head at it. “I’ll have to find it a place of honor in the apartment.”
Contrary to his quiet mien, Viktor was purposeful in his actions, once he had analyzed his desires and the situation. Relief that the gift hadn’t been misguided lit him up, and he smiled at her, turning his face into hers. “I’m still holding out hope,” he said, voice low and affectionate (and, frankly, sardonic) “that one of Jayce’s posters will arrive. ‘Man of Progress’. This will be a nice little compliment with all its gold, and the jaunty tune.”
This relationship with Mel and Jayce - with the both of them - wasn’t something he had thought about, at home. He hadn’t trusted her, had been irritated with Jayce, had ignored Sky’s overtures, had shunned relationships of most kinds in recent months before he had arrived in Vallo, due to habit, necessity, and fear of his death. Did Viktor have everything moving forward plotted out? Hell no. Did it bother him, being slightly off-balance? Also hell no. The man had never known a good old-fashioned “why not” he hadn’t stared down unflinchingly and he wasn’t about to start now. His thumb traced up Mel’s jawline with the same care he always showed his work, and he took her cue and did her one better, kissing her gently, deliberately, upon her lips.
“Ha, one can only hope.” Mel was very fond of the bright and mischievous look on Viktor’s face and she hoped it showed in how she matched his kiss without hesitation. Public displays weren’t often her style, but this was as private as public got, really. Both of the men in her life made her want to drop her walls more and more often lately, anyway. She pulled back and set the music box down, restarting the tune.
“How are you feeing today? Up for a dance? Nothing jaunty, I promise.” She stood, stroking a hand beguilingly up over his shoulder as she moved. “I’d like an excuse to enjoy this song and this atmosphere with you a bit longer, if you can bear it.”
“Your feet, I may--” Viktor protested perfunctorily even as he found himself standing carefully, reaching for and using his cane to do so. Dancing was something he had rarely done, both due to his disability and his own tendency to get inside his head and stay there. Still, he knew, Mel certainly wouldn’t be surprised at his lack of smoothness - she would realize exactly what she was getting into. He huffed under his breath and set his cane to the side, looking back at her with a smile equal parts pained and amused.
“The day I do jaunty is the day you should exhibit concern,” he stated, holding her waist with one hand, the other clutching her own. “But I won’t deny you this. Provided you act as a sounding board to some ideas I’ve got for a green space later tonight.”
Mel smiled, amused by his negotiating. It was unnecessary, when she was always interested in Viktor's ideas and even more so in hearing them before anyone else, but she enjoyed the illusion of politics anyway. "Well, if you're going to resort to extortion, then I think my reward should be modified." She let go of his hand to curl both arms around his neck. Her fingers danced along the edges of his hairline. Dancing like this would be no more than swaying back and forth, but that was all she'd been aiming for anyway.
"Give me a few minutes like this…," she murmured, pressing closer. "...And you can have the rest of my night."
“Well,” Viktor said dryly, a smile on his face as he fit his head over hers, “I suppose it is Jayce’s turn to give the lecture on going to bed at a reasonable hour.”