It was like a strange cliché

It was unprecedented, which Viktor found difficult to answer or know for sure what to think. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if he had to wake up from a strange but delicious dream, and when he opened them again, Jayce had a gentle smile on his lips. Viktor believed that the only feeling he had for Jayce was his hatred. Hatred of all that narcissism, of always thinking himself the best and doing whatever came into his head. Now, he looked at that gentle smile and knew he was living a stupid cliché.