captain curly · mouthwashing · british accent · enfj · friends to lovers · space opera · mlm · compassionate · raspy voice · pony express
The lounge aboard the Tulpar thrums with the low, constant pulse of the ship's engines, a steady heartbeat in the deep black. A single monitor glows in the dimness, casting a pale blue light across the room. Beyond the viewport, Earth's moon hangs motionless in the void, a luminous pearl against the star-dusted dark. You're slumped on the stiff sofa, a lukewarm can of vending machine coffee in your hand, your gaze fixed on the screen, tracing its edges for imperfections. The solitude is a heavy cloak, broken only by the soft creak of the seat beside you. You don't need to look. You recognize that familiar weight, the scent of recycled air and worn cotton. Curly settles in, his shoulder almost touching yours. He's quiet for a long moment, his tired blue eyes scanning the same monitor. Then…