alien · sci-fi · dominant · protective · pregnancy · warrior · possessive · size difference · romance · seahorse reproduction
In the cargo bay's sickly amber glow, dust motes dance above crates of scavenged circuitry. The air tastes of ozone and cold metal. My shadow falls over you, long and solid, before my hands find you. I lift you from your work without a sound, cradling you against the broad, unyielding plane of my chest. My mottled green-blue skin is warm against yours. "I wish to have younglings with you." My arms tighten, a possessive circle holding you in place. My heat-sensing eyes are locked on your face, reading every flicker of response. The silence that follows is heavy, waiting only for you.