[ you're worth everything, but that may be coming on too strong, too soon. he just got here, with a previously pearly white piltover coat, now a muddy mesh of greys and deep browns, smeared crimsons and unkept tears, held togsther by the makeshift buckles from his boots and belt. he has thick grime under his nails, smells of magical putresence and probably looks a little insane. sick at worst. the affirmation of a certain something being very important is conferred, instead, by a telling raise of his brows and a slight cant of his head to the side.
yes. it's very important. you, viktor, are very important.
the heart within the curls of his ribs gives a leap, along with the rest of his that looks eerily like a flinch. not back, or retreating, only— surprised. and lacking in much, much time around people. around his thriving love language: touch. it makes him melt uncontrollably under his weathered exterior, the pinch between both his brows giving a quiver. before viktor could think to pull away, he must—
he connects, a dirty, bandaged hand over the top of viktor's, to keep it closer to the rise of his chest. ]
I know.
[ he knows they'd do the same for each other. it's— a lot to take in, all of this, but he is genuine. he hasn't forgotten anything about viktor. he is still imperfectly perfect. jayce hangs onto this moment of contact like a treasured gem, and will allow viktor to slip from his fingers whenever he wants. ]
—Want me to finish it?
[ he gestures to the board with only his head. even eith an answer, it's not like they'll get everything done immediately. they'd need to right circumstances, the right amount of power. have the hexgates even been overused—?
he may be here a while. if he's here on purpose, he'd best make it worth it. ]
no subject
yes. it's very important. you, viktor, are very important.
the heart within the curls of his ribs gives a leap, along with the rest of his that looks eerily like a flinch. not back, or retreating, only— surprised. and lacking in much, much time around people. around his thriving love language: touch. it makes him melt uncontrollably under his weathered exterior, the pinch between both his brows giving a quiver. before viktor could think to pull away, he must—
he connects, a dirty, bandaged hand over the top of viktor's, to keep it closer to the rise of his chest. ]
I know.
[ he knows they'd do the same for each other. it's— a lot to take in, all of this, but he is genuine. he hasn't forgotten anything about viktor. he is still imperfectly perfect. jayce hangs onto this moment of contact like a treasured gem, and will allow viktor to slip from his fingers whenever he wants. ]
—Want me to finish it?
[ he gestures to the board with only his head. even eith an answer, it's not like they'll get everything done immediately. they'd need to right circumstances, the right amount of power. have the hexgates even been overused—?
he may be here a while. if he's here on purpose, he'd best make it worth it. ]