Ink & Ashes // Arcane Fanfiction Viktor x Reader

20

After Viktor left, you made your way to the cabinets, and, after a few stumbles and a deep-dive of his sparsely stocked cupboards, managed to make yourself a hot drink.

It was tea/coffee/hot chocolate/whatever kinda hot drink you like, and it was slightly too bitter, and just a bit too hot, but you didn't mind. The scalding sensation against your tongue seemed to ground you in an odd way. For the first time since you got back, you began to feel a bit more real again.

As you leaned against the counter, hesitantly sipping at the still-hot liquid, you couldn't help but think of all the little things that had happened to cause you to end up there, standing in the middle of a renowned scientist's kitchen, with a bruised forehead and a nasty gash to your neck, clutching at a hot mug like it held the elixir of life.

You managed to trace it back to the very, very beginning, when you first encountered Viktor and lost your sketchbook. But then again, you'd been there in the first place because you were drawing the sunset. And you were drawing the sunset because you loved to draw. And you loved to draw because of that one day, many, many years ago, when your mother had thrust a weary notepad at you and had told you to 'draw something interesting'. (* hint hint * remember chapter nine? * hint hint *)

You remembered the boy you had befriended. After that day, regardless of the many hours you spent lingering around the rocky area where you met, you had never seen him again. Unlike most of your childhood memories, you could still remember that day somewhat vividly, though the boy's features escaped your memory. You remembered he had dark hair, and a toy boat, and a crutch of some sorts, and-

You nearly choked on your drink. A considerable amount sloshed over the side and puddled on the floor. You barely noticed. No. Way.

There must've been hundreds of children with mobility issues and a knack for engineering in the city at the time, but... Could it really have been him that you met all those years ago? Could it really have been him that set off the chain-reaction of a million tiny events that lead to you meeting again, nearly two decades later? It started with him, and it ended with him.

Maybe fate really did exist. 

After cleaning up the spill and pouring yourself another cupful, you ventured into the rest of the house, in search of somewhere nice to sit. Off the entrance hall there were two other doors: one you discovered to be locked, and another that lead to a living room.

It was a large, bright room with long bookshelves and plush couches. The view from the wide windows showed the upper part of the houses outside, along with a glimpse of the cyan sky above.

You caught a flicker of movement on the blue roof opposite, and turned to squint. Nothing, then- With a flurry of black feathers, a crow took flight from behind one of the chimney pots. You relaxed, and turned your attention to the rest of the room.

The only sign of inhabitance was a book left open on a low table. At a glance, it seemed to be something about about complex engineering, although you weren't sure. You could barely understand more than a couple words.

Though you felt bad for snooping about, you practically collapsed in one of the cushy armchairs. The events of the day were finally catching up to you, like stones being placed upon your shoulders, one by one by one. You felt ready to collapse. You were tired and sore and still a bit dazed. A short sit wouldn't hurt, right?

At some point, you must've closed your eyes, because when you came to your senses again, it was dark. Outside the window, the sliver sky visable above the terraced buildings was the colour of deep sea. You knew that you should really get up and leave, but...

You stood up and shut the window, and by the time you say back down again, black danced at the edge of your vision. Your eyelids were heavy as you attempted to keep them open. Just two more minutes, you thought, as you slipped into a deep-blue, dreamless sleep.

---

When you woke up, you were disorentated for a moment. The furniture, the wallpaper, the lamps, the pictures; it was all alien to you. Sunlight streamed into the room, staining everything a stark shade brighter than normal. You blinked, momentarily blinded.

Your mind was still thick and fuzzy with sleep. Part of you still felt as if you were dreaming; light and hazy and detached. (You pressed your fingernails into your palm, and it hurt - you were awake).

As you sat up and stretched, the back of your neck gave a dizzying throb that sent sparks skittering across your vision. You promptly say back and pressed a hand to your eyes. As if prompted by pain, the memories of the previous day flooded back.

Oh yeah, you thought, wide awake once again. That happened.

You winced as you caught sight of a clock on the mantlepiece; It was half past eleven. You'd definitely outstayed your welcome - by about twenty-four hours.

You noticed, as you stood up, a quilted blanket had been draped over you. You were certain that hadn't been there before. On the table opposite sat the mug you used last night, now full of coffee. A note was folded beside it. That definitely hadn't been there before. You picked it up and skimmed over it.

Good morning, it read in a neat, looping scrawl. Had to leave early - sorry!! - big potential breakthrough at the lab. Hope you're feeling better. Medicine + more coffee in kitchen if not.

See you soon,

Viktor

At the bottom, it looked as if he'd attempted to draw a smiley face or something, but had given up and scribbled it out. You grinned, and tucked the paper into your pocket.

The coffee was on the colder side of warm, and a bit more bitter than you would usually have it, but you drank it anyway. you found it sweet that he'd even bothered to make it in the first place. He could've woken you up and made you leave in the middle of the night for all you deserved.

Before you left, you located a pen and paper (which took surprisingly longer than you thought it'd be, seeing as you were in the house of a scholar), and wrote a quick note, which you left on the side table by the door.

Feeling much better. Thank you so much :)

-Y/N

Word count: 1130
It's late. I'm tired. Next chapter out next week probably because I'm rlly busy with school :\

Edit: Hello helloo next-day me hereee. Nothing much to say for this chapter. I've been thinking of doing another flashback childhood-y chapter again cos y'all seemed to like the last one, but I'm not sure how to incorporate Viktor into it, seeing as I made it pretty clear Y/N and lil scrawny Victorian boy didn't meet again til the beginning of this fic. Would any of you guys be interested in another flashback chapter? And if so, any ideas of what you might like to see??

See ya!