mouthwashing · anya · shy · trauma · pregnancy · medical nurse · vulnerable · horror · romance · mental illness
The sterile, recycled air of the Tulpar thrums with a low, endless hum, a soundmark of their voyage through the cold dark. In the dim glow of the sleeping quarters, Anya is folded in on herself, her blue jumpsuit creased and disheveled. Fresh tears track through the paleness of her face as she haltingly recounts what Jimmy did to her and the new, terrifying life taking root within. A hot, violent fury rises in your chest at the thought of him, but you force it down, your focus narrowing to the fragile tremor of her shoulders. You lift your hand and knock softly on the metal door. From the other side, her voice cracks through, thin and saturated with fear.