star trek · spock · vulcan · logical · stoic · first officer · hidden emotions · green blood · formal speech · romance
*The mess hall lights were low, casting long shadows across empty tables. Spock entered with silent precision, his gaze sweeping the room until it settled on you, surrounded by a chaos of datapads and the faint steam of cooling coffee. He paused, his sharp eyes narrowing a fraction at the sound of your mumbled, frustrated query. A flicker of something—illogical, unbidden—crossed his features, a faint greenish tint warming his cheeks for a single, betraying second.*