Ink to Ashes / Arcane Fanfiction Viktor x Reader

7

The world shifted in and out of focus, blurring into a sleepy mix of browns and blacks and oranges. Your chin slipped from its rest on your hand and you snapped back to attention, blinking and dazed before recognising your surroundings

It was second day of your drawing job. It was the last day of you drawing job.

And you had a goddamn deadline to reach.

You leaned back, stretching your arms above your head with a pop, and checked the time: 2.03am. 

Nine more drawings you needed to do - some wrenches, a painfully intricate jug of some sort and a ton of weird techy-y things you couldn't identify in the dim lighting. There were just less than four hours until it was all destroyed; one hour until you had to leave, which meant every ten minutes you had to draw at least... Your brain couldn't bother to work our the maths. Either way, you had to work - fast.

You were pretty sure you were the last person left - other than the night guards - in the Academy.

You had barely noticed the steady stream of scholars trickle from the room as the night wore on. It wasn't until Viktor had tapped you on the shoulder that you snapped out of your work-trance. He'd informed you that it was time to leave, but you still had an ungodly amount of work to do. After an undignified amount of 'please's and reasoning, Viktor had relented.

"It's not like I'm going to blow the place up," you had joked.

The look on his face made it clear that he didn't put it past you to do so.

"I'm promise I won't," you clarified.

He sighed and held up a large set of keys strung on a gold loop, picking out one seemingly undistinguishable from its partners. "This one locks that door. Once you've finished leave it on the handle on the other side."

"Couldn't it get stolen?"

"Eh, it'll be fine."

You were skeptical, but had taken the keys anyway, making sure to securely tuck them away in your bag. You didn't want to imagine the kinda of trouble you'd get into if you lost them.

"The guard's check in here at around three," Viktor warned. "Be out before then. They aren't as considerate as I am."

You raised a skeptical eyebrow. "After all the bargaining it took to convince you to let me stay here I wouldn't exactly call you considerate..."

"What was that?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"Nothing, nothing." You waved him away. "Thank you so much, Vik. Goodnight."

He had paused. "Vik?" he echoed, a look of bemusement on his face.

You turned to the paper below you to hide the flush that had sprung to your cheeks. "Sorry," you said through an embarrassed grin.

"No, no," he assured, dismissing your apology with a wave. "I like it. Goodnight, Y/N."

After that you had returned to your. drawings, finding it a little harder to slip back into your working-mindset.

At regular intervals the sound of passing guards broke the silence. Each time you couldn't help freezing, holding your breath as if that'd help in any way. But each time they faded away, and you returned to your sketching - albeit a bit jittery. Still, you couldn't help idly considering potential hiding spots if worst came to worst (After a lot of thought, you decided your best bet would be under the table).

---

With a relieved sigh, you added the final stroke to the final drawing and flexed your sore hand. Done! Glancing at your watch, you were relieved to find you had over fifteen minutes to pack up and sneak out. As you shoved your pencils into your pocket, you vowed you were never going to you them ever again. The cylindrical shape of them was practically burnt into your hand. Maybe you'd take up a new medium - painting or pottery or whatever.