Ink to Ashes / Arcane Fanfiction Viktor x Reader

3

"What brings you here tonight? Drawing? Thinking?"

"You, actually."

Sweet stars above, you lamented internally. That's the cheesiest thing I've ever said.

"Me?" He turned around at that, equal parts intrigued and surprised.

"You have something of mine, I think," you said. When that prompted a blank look from him, you added, "My sketchbook?"

He blinked.

"You stole it."

You instantly regretted your choice of words the moment you spoke, but instead of being offended he looked almost amused. The corners of his mouth quirked upwards ever so slightly.

"Stole?" he questioned, placing a hand on his chest in mock offense. "You're calling me a thief?" It took you a moment to realise that he was joking, and allowed yourself to relax.

You exhaled an embarrassed laugh. "Sorry. That wasn't what I meant-"

"It's alright." He dismissed your apology with a small wave. "I suppose I did in a way. You weren't to know."

"Why take it?

"Your drawings are very good. You have a talent for it. I thought it would be a waste for it to be left here, so I took it - for safe keeping. I had all intentions of returning it, but unfortunately none of the pictures were signed, meaning I couldn't locate you. I recommend you do, in future instances - sign your work, that is."

"So... where is it now?" You felt rude for asking so abruptly, but afterall, this is what you came for; not some small talk.

You weren't quite sure why, but you were rather disappointed when his answer was: "At my house." What were you expecting? He hardly had reason to carry it around with him. You should be lucky he hasn't thrown it in the nearest bin and left it for waste, a humbling voice at the back of your mind reminded you.

"If you're available tomorrow," he continued, noticing your dismay, "I should be able to find some time to return it to you."

"Really? That'd be great. I'm free do any time before noon, preferably."

He offered to drop it off at your house if he wasn't able to make it, but you declined. As much as you couldn't be bothered to face another trek through the city, you - quite rationally - decided that giving your address out to random men wasn't the best idea. You settled for meeting where you currently were.

"I apologise for not returning it sooner," he said quietly. "I hope it didn't cause you too much stress."

"No, no," you lied through a smile. The newly-fresh lines beneath your eyes betrayed you. "I've been fine."

To your surprise, he cast you a knowing look at your answer. "No need to be polite. I know I wouldn't be able to sleep if one of my journals went missing."

You stared at your shoes to hide your face. "Okay, maybe I've been completely stressed out for the past few days. And haven't slept. Maybe."

Before he could analyse you any more, you quickly changed the topic. "Journals? What do you do?" you asked.

"I'm a scientist. An... assistant to one, at least. " A look crossed his face - a pitying mix of defeat and burden. He blinked it off, but traces still lingered in the lines of his mouth, the crease between his eyebrows. "I help out: write up reports, fix and clean equipment, that kind of business. All the things he's too busy for."

"So not the most challenging job, then."

"No. Though you can hardly expect the head of the Council to clean out test tubes, can you?"