The Portside

The Scientist and The Ballerina

"And I will get him Viktor, I just need to figure out how."

She said it matter of factly.

The rain caused the window to chime, while the afternoon skies over Piltover had turned a melancholic grey.

Anya had finished telling her epic tale to Viktor, who was more than pleased to hear of the success of his creation in the escapade.
She flipped backwards onto his narrow bed in an exhausted heap, causing it to creak and protest.

"I don't doubt that." He said finally.

The room was small and rectangular, with a window as wide an open book situated on its main wall. Next to the window was a wooden desk in its pride of place, allowing its owner to view the outside street while he worked.

It was littered with cogs and coils among other necessities, including his tattered notebook.

Touching his desk on the farthest side of the window, was his bed with a few pillows scattering the space. The bed filled the remaining length of the space from wall to wall.

The whole room was littered with trinkets, experiments and drawings.
There were so many curious things balancing on shelves around the room, that the children had long forgotten the faded colours of the walls.

Viktor, his cane resting on the small crate he used as a desk chair, had been residing at the workspace for the whole account, his artful eyes and hands leisurely working on his current project.

Anya blocked her view of the spotted ceiling with her hands. "I cannot believe I spent the whole day chasing a hat. Only then to come home absolutely empty-handed."

She threw her hands up in the air. "Even my bruises have bruises!"

The boy continued to tinker. "At least the plan worked," he added.

Anya sighed in reply. "I suppose."

He stopped what he was working on, and looked in her direction. "Why did you want the hat, anyway?"

"I was gonna show it off to the kids in the gang."

After pausing for a moment she sighed once more in a mournful manner.

"It would have felt so good."

Viktor's heart jutted with that. He had heard Skratt's argument with Anya before the three had disbanded on the docks that morning. The idea that Anya was hanging around with him simply until she had a better option, or worse- out of pity? The thought upset him to no end.

"Why do you want to impress them?"

He tried not to sound too alarmed with his question, and looked down to his hands. Anya quickly noticed.

"Not because I want to impress them, Viktor. Well, not really, anyway."

She sat up and rested her head and arms on his desk, fiddling with its contents. "I just wanted to show them what we are made of. What we can do. It's stupid. I know." Viktor closed his eyes and sighed with relief.

"It's not stupid, Anya. We're just....different. Is all."

She averted his gaze, fiddling with his pen. "You're cool different, though, Viktor. I don't have any cool things I can do." He seemed to take offence to her unusual self depreciation.

"What? Anya, you are the coolest person I know!"

She dropped his pen and and looked up at him with sad, brown eyes. "Really?"