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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE just breathe
⋆*✧･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:
WHEN VIKTOR HAD GOTTEN his memories back—a process that had occurred through a convoluted hallucination via 1960s FBI drugs—one of the last things he'd remembered was the fight at the cabin that had culminated in Allison's slit throat. This made sense; after all, everything had basically returned in order, as if his life was a chronological story. But he'd been unprepared for it. And not just the horrifying act of slitting his own sister's throat, either—though that had been terrible enough. No, he hadn't been prepared to hear Nadine confess her love to him.
It had been an awkward, desperate confession, unsure of whether it was romantic or platonic, but it had so much passion to it, so much honesty. It was as if she'd opened her chest to bare her naked, throbbing heart to him. No strings attached.
Remembering what he'd said back to her—"you've never been a part of this"—had been like a slap to the face, even if it had been overshadowed by the violent event that had followed. And yes, he knew now that Leonard—Harold—had been manipulating him, playing him like the violin he'd always held so dear, but knowing that he had said those words to her, harsh as the bite of Antarctic wind, made him hate himself a little. Nadine hadn't deserved it, even if their relationship was only just beginning to bloom at the time. She'd deserved better from him, and he'd never given it.
Even so, it seemed as if she'd forgiven him. Not just for rejecting her with such cruelty, but the whole ending-the-world thing, too. She'd been so patient with him even when he hadn't remembered her name, always sticking up for him and having his back, and he was immeasurably grateful for it.
When he fully recognized her again, he never once took these gestures as anything more than friendship. The two of them were both in separate relationships, after all, and Nadine truly seemed enamoured by Molly. There was no way she was still in love with him—if she even had been in the first place. During the two years she'd spent in the 1960s, she'd moved on. There was nothing else to it.
Then Viktor had heard the humming of her energy wave—which was practically a roar of a thousand different emotions that all swirled in Nadine's core—and, well. He'd felt something. He wasn't exactly sure what it was—it was difficult to pick out a single feeling in the wave—but he knew it was about him. It had connected to him like a shimmering thread, glowing fierce and hot.
Of course, this could just be their friendship. They were friends, now—best friends, partners, family. Nadine had other strings connecting to each of Viktor's siblings, all vibrating with their own feelings. But while Klaus's and Allison's were a little stronger than others—though Luther's was resonating with a hope for more—they weren't nearly as powerful as Viktor's. If the others were stars, twinkling galaxies away, then Viktor's was the Sun. And he had no idea what to think about it.
