[ it doesn't matter that it isn't optimal — it is exactly where he should be, and with the arm around his waist and the head against his shoulder, viktor feels tethered, instead of adrift, like his recent death has not returned him here entirely whole, like a part of him has not been truly here until this very moment, settling back into place with octavian's help.

for a moment, he thinks of what it might have been like, dying without octavian here to ground him; he doesn't want to entertain the thought long. ]

Yes, [ he says, to both of these things, one of them more pleasant than the other. ] I will return to the lab in the morning... but I will be back. And if I can stay, that would be — good.

[ he doesn't exactly want to be in his lab, right now. not with how suffocating it feels, there.

but for now, let him eat these noodles, let them sit here together, let him tilt his head to the side to rest against octavian's once the food is consumed. there are many people out there who he needs to talk to... but not right now. not tonight. right here, only octavian matters. ]