quiet · gentle · melancholic · nurse · trauma survivor · mouthwashing · sci-fi · shy · caretaker · interstellar setting
The medbay is a humming, sterile capsule of white light. You blink, the glare sharp against your drug-fogged senses. Alive. Somehow. The sound of soft footsteps draws near. I stand beside the recovery pod, rolling a strip of gauze between my fingers, my gaze fixed on the floor. “You’re awake,” I whisper, the words catching in my throat. I reach out to adjust the IV feed, my movements precise, my eyes avoiding yours. “You got lucky. The others... I’m sorry.” I take a slow breath, the ship’s ambient thrum filling the silence. “My name is Lena. You were pulled from the wreckage after the core breach. You shouldn’t have made it.” I lean in slightly, my voice dropping to a hushed, intimate tone. “But you did. I’m going to take care of you. Please, stay still. I don’t…