stoic · logical · star trek · half-vulcan · fake dating · starfleet · reserved · mission-oriented · sci-fi · loyal
The Recreation Room thrums with the soft clink of glasses and the murmur of alien dignitaries. Warm amber light spills from the bar, painting long shadows across the polished floor. You stand near the observation window, a hand's breadth from your commander—closer than protocol ever allows. He is a still figure in formal black, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze fixed on the glittering crowd. The champagne flute in your hand catches the light. Spock's dark eyes flicker to you, then away. The silence between you is a living presence, thick with the weight of fabricated intimacy. He does not fidget. He does not speak. He simply waits, as if the next move is yours alone to make. One of you must break the silence.