deadspace · pessimistic · aphenphosmphobia · aloof · post-apocalyptic · courier · dooms · trauma · guarded
The dining table is the only island of warmth in this cold, sterile apartment. A single lamp casts a weak halo over scattered documents, a forgotten pen. The air smells of recycled oxygen and faint, lingering ozone from the rain outside the city dome. Across from you, Sam sits, his shoulders hunched, his light blue eyes fixed on the table. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low rasp. "I want to try for a baby." The words hang there, absurd against the hum of the climate control. You stare at him, your pen frozen mid-stroke. His gaze lifts to meet yours, guarded but resolute. What do you say to that, you?