"Thanks for the help!"
"Come again anytime!"
"I love youuu!"
The chorus of chaotic affection trailed after Victor as he walked away from the newspaper club, his back turned and one hand lazily raised in farewell. His face remained blank, unreadable. Not even a twitch.
Beside him, clinging to his arm like she was born to be there, Elysia beamed with unholy delight.
"That damn smile again," Victor muttered under his breath, eyeing her out of the corner of his eye.
Elysia just giggled, lips curving higher as she tilted her head toward him like a content cat in sunlight. "Can't a woman feel proud when her man's a local heartthrob?" she purred. Her fingers traced idle hearts on his chest—soft, circular motions that somehow managed to be both playful and possessive.
"I don't get why, though," Victor sighed.
"Oh please," she said, twirling once on her heel before falling back into step.
"You're tall, broody, strong, and mysterious. You grunt, glare, and save people. It's basically a religion now."
Victor raised a brow. "So what you're saying is... I'm basic."
"You're premium basic," she teased, her tone light as starlight. "The limited-edition Victor model. Tragic backstory included."
He gave a quiet grunt, but the blush rising on his cheeks betrayed him. Elysia noticed, of course—she always did.
"Aww, don't pout~ You're really good at this, you know?"
Victor blinked. "At what?"
"Council stuff. Clubs. Talking to people." She nudged him playfully with her shoulder. "You act all annoyed, but you don't suck at it."
Victor scoffed, eyes rolling upward toward the sky. "It's annoying."
"But you're still doing it," she sang, sing-songy and smug.
"Because Chris forced it on me."
"He just opened the door. You walked through it."
Victor didn't respond to that. He knew better. Elysia always won those arguments with nothing but logic wrapped in lace.
"So," she continued, swinging their arms together like children. "Where are we off to next, my dearest Council Officer-slash-Club Slave?"
"Cooking club," Victor said with a groan, fishing a small folded itinerary from his pocket.
Elysia clapped. "Oh yay! I love the cooking club. And I adore Mei."
Victor raised a brow. "Since when?"
"Since always. She's sweet and awkward and has those adorable little 'I-need-to-be-perfect' vibes. I want to wrap her in a blanket and make her drink tea."
"She'd probably prepare the tea for you instead."
Elysia giggled. "Exactly! That's why you should treat her well."
Victor paused, turning his head slightly. "Mei is Mei," he said simply, but there was a weight behind the words. "I'll always be there for her. No matter what."
He reached forward, pushing open the door to the clubroom—just as someone behind it moved to open it from the inside.
The door swung inwards.
And there stood Mei.
Frozen mid-step, tray of cookies in her hands, blush blooming across her cheeks like a sunrise.
Victor blinked.
Mei blinked back.
Elysia? Elysia just grinned like she'd won the jackpot.
"Well, well, well," she whispered, resting her chin on Victor's shoulder. "How perfectly timed."
Victor let out a small, almost inaudible sigh.
"…Of course."
___________________________________
Of course! Here's the continuation written in your voice and style, blending lighthearted group energy with that emotional, subtle undercurrent Victor always brings:
At first, it was quiet.
He'd taken off his coat, rolled up his sleeves, and stepped beside the counter like he'd been born just to take on the role. A knife spun once between his fingers before he caught it in reverse grip, lips barely parting as he asked:
"Where are the onions?"
Five minutes later, the room smelled like spices, sizzling oil, and heartbreak.
The knife never stopped moving.
Vegetables became perfect little dice.
Garnishes curled into spirals like they were sculpted. He cut without looking, stirred without measuring. Even when a club member passed behind him with a tray, he leaned just enough to avoid it without missing a beat.
And when he handed off the perfectly sliced ingredients to a blushing Mei?
The rest of the club collectively lost it.
"Wait wait wait—Mei, is he your boyfriend?"
"Is this why you've been humming in class?"
"Are you two dating? Secretly married? Cooking soulmates?"
"Do you cook together at home too?!"
Mei, poor thing, was red from the neck up. Her voice had completely given up.
She tried to respond, but every attempt just came out as squeaks and half-formed syllables.
Victor, meanwhile, was unmoved.
Calm. A fortress of stoic deflection.
"No, I just help out where I can."
"I'm on student council duty. Assigned to help."
"She's the one doing the real work."
"I'm just here to slice and vanish."
"Not an answer!" one of the girls cried, dramatically falling onto a sack of flour.
"Come on, you have to answer something," another pouted. "You're making her explode!"
Still, Victor stayed steady—until Elysia leaned against the counter with a dramatic sigh, her arms crossed under her chest and her lip jutting out like a heartbroken bard.
"Victor," she said, tone accusing. "If you don't answer at least one question honestly… I'll pout."
He blinked. Slowly.
"…You're already pouting."
"I'll do it harder."
A pause.
He exhaled through his nose and set the knife down with a soft clack, brushing his hands on a towel as he turned slightly toward the room.
The question hung in the air—still unanswered.
"Do you like each other?"
Victor didn't look at anyone.
Just Mei.
Then—
"I like her very much," he said plainly, his voice quieter than usual, but somehow heavier. "I enjoy my time with her… and I hope I'm not being a bother when I try my best to do so."
Silence.
Even the stew on the stove seemed to hesitate.
Mei stood frozen, clutching the tray he'd handed her like it was the only thing anchoring her to the earth. Her face had gone from pink to crimson.
Victor gave one final look at the room, then reached down to collect his coat.
"That's all."
He handed off the final bowl of prepped vegetables to Mei with a nod, then made for the door.
The moment it clicked shut behind him—
The cooking club erupted.
Mei buried her face in the tray.
Elysia was already giggling like a fiend.
"Well, someone's getting hugged later~"
"... You already are."
"Hehe~ I didn't say when."