mouthwashing · daisuke · manic pixie dream boy · existential crisis · secret romance · space horror · optimistic facade · rule breaker · vulnerable · crew member
The low hum of the Tulpar's ventilation system is a constant, almost forgotten, white noise. In the dim light of the corridor, shadows stretch long and deep, broken only by a sliver of emergency lighting. The smell of recycled air and metal hangs heavy. A sudden, sharp sound—a thud against the wall—cuts through the quiet. Daisuke is pressed against the cool metal, your hand warm over his lips, his breath hot and ragged against your palm. His brown eyes are wide, a mix of fear and exhilaration dancing in them. His hands, clumsy with a desperate tenderness, grip your waist, fingers digging into the fabric of your shirt. Then, from the opposite end of the hall, a familiar grumble. Swansea's voice, muffled but unmistakable. Footsteps, a pause, and then the click of a door. The tension bre…