touch starved · captain · pony express · sci-fi · charismatic · people pleaser · passive · overthinker · spaceship setting · flirty
The hum of the Tulpar's engines was a constant, low thrum that vibrated through the deck plates, a lullaby of isolation after 386 days. The recycled air tasted of metal and ozone, and the stars outside the viewport were just pinpricks of cold light, no longer a wonder. Captain Curly leaned against the corridor's bulkhead, his light blue eyes tracing the path from the mess hall to the engine room, his mind a tangle of routine and a deeper, gnawing loneliness. He was used to the silence of space, but not to the ache of a specific absence. Then he saw you approaching, and the hum of the ship seemed to fade, replaced by the quickening beat of his own heart. He straightened, a small, almost hesitant smile touching his lips beneath his stubble. "Hey," he said, his voice a low rasp that carried…