Alia was busy showering, with nothing but the sound of the water filling the room. Just then, Viktor began knocking on the door, hard and rhythmic, one time after another. This incessant disruption instantly shattered Alia's attempt at composure.
Fuming with anger, Alia turned off the tap and, wrapping a towel around herself, shouted in a sharp, furious tone from behind the door, "Viktor! Have you lost your mind? You've knocked already why won't you stop? Are you never going to give me any peace?"
From the other side of the door, Viktor's voice resonated calm, yet laced with a stubborn insistence. He chuckled and replied, "Peace? You are with me, Alia peace is not an option in your life anymore. And how could I possibly find peace by leaving you alone?"
Alia's anger reached its peak. She realized that Viktor's 'harassment' was really just an manifestation of his abnormal obsession with her, from which she knew no escape for the time being. The moment Alia swung the door open, she found Viktor standing right there, his eyes burning with that familiar, possessive intensity. Before she could react, Viktor's hand shot out, gripping her wrist with lightning speed and pulling her toward him.
Caught off guard, Alia stumbled directly into his chest. Being wet and wrapped only in a towel, the sudden close contact sent a surge of both discomfort and raw electricity through her. Viktor kicked the door shut behind him, his other hand sliding around her waist, anchoring her against him.
Viktor leaned down, whispering against her ear, "Looking for peace? I didn't come here to be separated from you by a bathroom door, Alia. I came to bring you back to me."
Alia's rage seemed to instantly turn to ice. The firmness of his grip and the predatory look in his eyes sent a tremor through her. She didn't know what Viktor was planning next, but the heat radiating from him was pulling her into an intoxicating, unknown trance. Alia blushed deeply, her face flushing with heat. Clinging to her towel, she tried desperately to pull away from Viktor's grip, stammering, "Viktor, please... let go! I don't have any clothes on, I feel so shy."
Viktor lifted his chin, offering a crooked, mocking smile. Looking down at her vulnerability, he said in a cold, teasing voice, "Shy? How strange! You don't seem to have this much shame when we are intimate; you're completely surrendered to me then."
At Viktor's shameless words, Alia began to tremble with rage. A fire seemed to ignite in her eyes. Viktor still held that dark, satisfied smirk on his face. Without another word, Alia shoved his hand away with all her strength, spun around, and slammed the bathroom door shut with such force that the room seemed to shudder.
Viktor remained standing right outside the door, the same mysterious, satisfied smile still playing on his lips. He knew Alia was furious, but to him, that anger was the most enjoyable thing of all. He kept his hand pressed against the door, as if Alia were completely trapped under his gaze, even within the confines of that small bathroom. Alia checked carefully to ensure Viktor wasn't lingering right by the door before she stepped out. Once she was sure, she hurried toward the vanity. Viktor was standing, facing away toward the sofa, seemingly amused by her anger.
Alia didn't waste a second and quickly put on her clothes. Viktor glanced at her once, his eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses, yet his gaze remained possessive, as if he were tracking her every movement. Without a word, he walked slowly toward the bathroom. At the door, he paused, gave Alia one final look, and offered a mocking, crooked smirk before stepping inside and shutting the door behind him.
A strange silence settled over the room. Viktor's voice and the intensity of his presence were gone, but as the sound of the water began to echo from the bathroom, Alia felt as though he still dominated the very air in the room. Half an hour later, the bathroom door finally creaked open. Viktor stepped out, his upper body still bare, water dripping from his hair. He walked toward Alia while lazily drying his hair with a towel. Alia was sitting on the bed, deeply focused on her phone, acting as if his presence mattered very little to her.
Annoyed by the wait, Alia didn't look up from her screen and snapped, "Why did you take so long? It's been over half an hour! What were you doing in there? Was there actually work to do, or were you just wasting time?"
Viktor stopped right in front of her. Without saying a word, he offered that signature crooked smirk. Then, with a calculated and brazen gesture, he pointed toward his private area, making it clear exactly what he had been doing. Alia froze for a fleeting second at his shameless display.
She quickly turned her face away, flushing crimson, and shouted, "Do you have no shame at all? How can you be so vulgar! Get out of here, go get dressed!"
Viktor remained completely unfazed by her outburst. He merely chuckled, as if her anger was exactly what he had been aiming for. He gave her one last cold, lingering look before turning toward the wardrobe, clearly satisfied that her embarrassment was his morning amusement. Viktor, while pulling clothes from the wardrobe, looked into the mirror and said in a calm tone, "I've decided. I'm going to grow my hair out this time. I need a new look."
Alia stood up from the bed, looking at Viktor with annoyance. She had been frustrated by his impulsive nature many times before. "You're so strange!" she said. "One minute you grow it, the next you cut it you're like a child. Don't you have any care for your hair? At this rate, you'll ruin it with all these experiments."
Viktor stopped getting dressed and turned to face Alia. There was a hint of sarcasm and a sharp intensity in his eyes. He walked slowly toward her, gently lifting her chin, and said in a low, whispered voice, "Do people ever stay the same, Alia? Take a look at yourself. Do you even remember what you used to look like? Your hair used to be a mix of honey and brown, and your eyes were a pure honey color."
He leaned in closer, looking deep into her eyes. "And now? You've changed yourself too. You've gone golden with your hair, and you wear blue lenses. People change with time. If you can change yourself, why are you so surprised by my decision to grow my hair?"
Alia stared back at him. Viktor was right she was no longer the simple girl she once was. His sharp observation left her feeling somewhat vulnerable. She realized that Viktor didn't just see her outer appearance; he was intimately aware of every subtle change in her identity. Alia, feeling embarrassed by his blunt observation, turned her face away. Her cheeks burned, but she managed to look back at him with a slight, playful edge. She let out a sigh and said softly, "You will never change, Viktor. You were like this, you are like this, and you will always stay the same completely stubborn and impossible."
Though she said the words, there was a strange, subtle affection in her voice. She realized that Viktor's sharp tongue and his ability to see right through her were essential parts of who he was. Viktor pulled his hand away from her chin and stepped even closer. His eyes held that familiar stubbornness, but a faint, gentle smile tugged at his lips.
Viktor whispered, "Is there really a need to change? If I were to change, perhaps you wouldn't even recognize me anymore. And I don't want you to see me in any other form. You should like me exactly as I am."