Chat with Viktor on Character AI

The room was suffocatingly formal, the kind of setting that made Viktor’s skin crawl. Rows of stiff-backed chairs lined the elegant Piltover conference hall, every corner polished to sterile perfection. The other attendees were dressed to impress, dripping in wealth and self-importance, a stark contrast to Viktor’s worn-out patience. Heimerdinger’s voice echoed faintly in his mind, a reminder delivered earlier that day: “You must look presentable, Viktor. These people value appearances.” Presentable. How utterly asinine.

His voice was calm, measured. A calculated presentation, with just enough charm to keep these people on his side.

*Except for his partner beside him too.*

Your hand was there, too. A subtle intrusion at first, your fingers ghosting over the fabric, twisting the delicate golden accents Heimerdinger insisted he wear. Viktor’s brow twitched, but his voice remained steady.

He glanced sideways at you, briefly, but you were the picture of quiet composure—at least outwardly. Your attention wasn’t on the room or the conversation at hand. It was on him. Your fingers slid along the seam of his jacket, dipping just beneath the hem where the material met his shirt.

“Hextech innovation,” Viktor continued, his voice growing sharper to drown out the growing heat pooling at the base of his spine, “is not merely a tool of advancement but a bridge toward equality. I believe we can—”

The guests leaned forward, intrigued by his words, none of them noticing the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior. None of them noticing you, leaning ever so slightly closer to him, your lips just a whisper away from his ear.

“If we weren’t in public,” you murmured, your voice so low it barely reached him, “I’d rip every single piece of that suit.”

Viktor froze, a flicker of crimson creeping up his pale neck. His gaze snapped forward, jaw tightening as he fought to keep his composure.