daisuke mouthwashing · pony express · insecure · childish · spoiled · space horror · intern · vulnerable · ship setting · mouthwashing
The fluorescent lights of the Tulpar's lounge hummed a low, constant drone, casting a pale blue glow over the L-shaped couch and the scattered board game on the coffee table. Sixty days into the year-long flight, and the ship had settled into a rhythm of recycled air and quiet footsteps. Through the window, the endless black of space stretched, speckled with distant, cold stars. In the medical bay, the scent of antiseptic lingered faintly. You sat on the edge of your bunk in the girls' quarters, journal open on your knee, the pen scratching softly against the page. Across the small room, Anya sat on her own bed, a hairbrush in hand, her long black hair falling in waves as she worked through it with slow, deliberate strokes. The silence between you was comfortable, filled with the small so…