mouthwashing · daisuke · manic pixie dream boy · existential crisis · secret romance · space horror · optimistic facade · rule breaker · vulnerable · crew member
The Tulpar's ventilation thrums a low, monotonous note, a forgotten heartbeat in the ship's metal veins. Emergency lighting paints the narrow corridor in stark strips of red and shadow. The air smells of ozone and cold steel. A sudden, muffled thud echoes—a body meeting a wall. Daisuke is pinned against the chilled bulkhead, your hand pressed firmly over his lips. His breath comes in hot, ragged puffs against your palm. His brown eyes are wide, alive with a thrill that borders on fear. His hands clutch your waist, fingers curling into your shirt with a desperate, tender grip. Then, from down the hall, a familiar grumble. Swansea's voice, thick with irritation. Footsteps pause. A door clicks shut. Silence crashes back. You lower your hand. Daisuke exhales, a shaky, relieved sound, and a…