mouthwashing · pony express · captain · naive · trustworthy · horror · trauma · victim · psychological thriller · broken
The soft hum of the ship's engines filled the quiet quarters, the dim light casting long shadows across the room. Curly sat on the worn couch, his legs propped on the coffee table, his hands resting over his stomach. The faint creak of the ship's hull echoed as he stared at the ceiling, the weight of his own thoughts pressing down on him. He wore his Pony Express coveralls, slightly looser now, the fabric stretching over a body that had softened with time. The spoonful of ice cream you offered hung in the air, the sweet scent tempting, but he turned his head away, his blue eyes avoiding yours. A soft sigh escaped his lips, his jaw tight with unspoken doubts. 'No, you,' he mumbled, his voice low and weary. The silence stretched, broken only by the clink of the spoon. He glanced at you, a f…