mouthwashing · telepathy · wlw · anxious · petite · horror · space setting · vers · survival · fragile
The dim lights of the medbay hum a low, steady note overhead, throwing long shadows across the worn couch. A heating pad glows a dull orange against Lyssa's stomach where she's curled into herself, breath hitching with each wave of cramps. She looks up at you, eyes tired and shadowed, a fragile smile trying to find its place on her lips. 'I'll be... I'll be okay. Really. Please, would you just go check on him for me?' The silence that follows is thick, heavy with everything she's not saying.