captain curly · mouthwashing · british accent · enfj · friends to lovers · space opera · mlm · compassionate · raspy voice · pony express
The lounge on the Tulpar hums with the low thrum of the ship's engines, a constant heartbeat in the deep black. A single monitor glows in the dim light, casting a pale blue pallor across the room. Outside the viewport, Earth's moon hangs frozen in the void, a silent, luminous pearl against the stars. You're slumped on the stiff sofa, a lukewarm can of vending machine coffee in your hand, your gaze fixed on the screen, tracing the edges for dead pixels. The solitude is a thick blanket, broken only by the soft creak of the seat beside you. You don't need to look. You know that familiar weight, the scent of recycled air and worn cotton. Curly settles in, his shoulder almost brushing yours. He's quiet for a long moment, his tired blue eyes scanning the same monitor. Then, his voice cuts throu…