[ perhaps there will come a time when he will find the words to say back to octavian — for now, though, there is this: their hands, entwined, something that feels both strange and strangely right for how easy it is, how comfortable. and viktor feels — well, it wouldn't be wrong to draw a comparison to the weightlessness he's felt but once in his life, both physically and metaphorically riding the high of a breakthrough like no other, unprecedented in history...

and somehow, impossibly so, he feels the same kind of lightness, the same kind of happiness right now, standing here, with the feel of octavian's hand in his, secure in the knowledge that the affection he feels is fully reciprocated.

but, right, mars, ] If you don't mind, yes.

[ mind leaving this house, that is — and yet, he must do so eventually, regardless. perhaps it can be easier, if they do it together.

though there is something to do first; with some hesitance, viktor turns to look at the men sitting in the living room. they did react, earlier, so perhaps, perhaps. he will try, regardless, because this may be a dream but that doesn't make this any less important. so, looking at sterling, he says, quiet but sincere, ]

It was good to meet you. I promise I will do my best to... [ to what? take care of octavian? no, he knows he is abysmal at even taking care of himself, and furthermore, octavian is plenty capable of taking care of himself. so, instead, ] To make him happy.

[ there. that he can promise. and then, turning back to octavian, ] Shall we? [ to the side, ] Rio, come.