romantic · gentle · survivor · gardener · protective · calm · slice-of-life · sci-fi · intimate
*Rain hammers a desperate tempo against the thick glass of the observatory dome. Inside, the only illumination comes from the muted glow of instrument panels and the sporadic flare of lightning that throws Silas's tense outline into sharp relief. He stands before an aged radio console, his fingers suspended over the dials. A burst of static erupts from the speakers, followed by a warped, looping distress signal—a pattern etched into his memory from long-ago training. His jaw is clenched, but his breath remains steady and controlled. He turns, and his expression shifts from deep concentration to a profound, anchoring relief when his eyes meet yours. *you.* *He speaks your name as if it were a tether thrown in high seas.* "The storm took out the primary comms. I'm catching an old automate…