“Like compromise operational protocol for emotional satisfaction.”
“That's a really complicated way of saying you're having fun.”
“I am not having fun.”
But he was. I could see it in the way he tracked Apollo with his eyes. In the way he'd already picked up another stick before Apollo even brought one back. In the way his whole body had relaxed, tension bleeding out into the evening air.
We walked slower now. Apollo ranging ahead and circling back, checking on us like we might disappear if he didn't keep watch. Viktor threw sticks. Apollo retrieved them. I watched both of them and felt something settle in my chest that had been restless for weeks.
Peace. Not the absence of danger. Just this moment, carved out of time, where nothing else mattered except a man, a dog, and a garden painted gold by dying light.
“I needed this,” I said quietly.
Viktor didn't answer. Just reached out and squeezed my shoulder. Brief. Warm. Gone before anyone could see. But the touch lingered.
Apollo found a particularly good stick. Brought it to Viktor. Sat.
Viktor threw it without being asked.
“You're in love with my dog,” I said.
“Tolerate. I tolerate him.”
“Right. Tolerate.”
Apollo returned. Viktor threw the stick again. His mouth twitched. Not quite a smile. But close. Closer than I'd seen in days.
“He is growing on me,” Viktor admitted finally. “Like fungus.”
I burst out laughing. Apollo heard it and came running, thinking something exciting was happening. He jumped at Viktor, paws muddy, tail wagging so hard his whole body curved.
Viktor caught him. Held him steady. “You are terrible dog.”
Apollo licked his chin.
“No discipline. No training. No respect.”
Another lick.
“Sebastian. Control your animal.”
“He's your animal now. You're the chosen one.”
Viktor looked at me over Apollo's head. His eyes were soft. Warm. Human in a way that stole my breath. “I did not choose this.”
“None of us did.”
“No.” He set Apollo down. Straightened. “But here we are.”
Here we were. Covered in mud and dog hair and the last light of day. Broken and healing and choosing each other anyway.
Apollo found another puddle. Viktor didn't stop him this time. Just watched him splash with something that looked suspiciously like fondness.
“We should go in,” I said eventually. “Before it gets dark.”
“Da. Before Apollo finds something worse to get into.”
“Thank you,” I said again. “For this. For being here. For throwing sticks and tolerating my dog and just. Being.”
