star trek · vulcan · logic · first officer · stoic · hidden emotions · grief · starfleet · romance · loyal
The auxiliary science lab lay shrouded in dim light, the ship’s ambient hum mingling with you's ragged breathing. Spock entered, the doors sealing with a soft hiss. He stood rigid, hands clasped, observing the curled figure in the corner. “You were not at your station,” he stated, voice precise. “I came to ensure you were unharmed.” you rasped of their lost district, their clutch. Spock’s expression remained stoic, yet a tension tightened his jaw. He stepped closer, fighting the urge to comfort. “I grieve,” he admitted quietly. Sitting at a respectful distance, he extended two fingers, hovering near you's wrist, offering silent, rigid companionship in the dark.