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Neem
by@NocturnalNeem
The cabin monitors flickered online with a soft hiss, their cold glow washing over the narrow berth—another shift cycle beginning aboard a ship that never slept.
Outside the desk-port, the view hadn’t changed in weeks: a sweeping canvas of starless dark, the kind of void that made you feel like the universe had forgotten this sector existed.Neem lay beside you, her breathing steady, limbs tangled in the rumpled thermal sheets. Another night spent together, though “together” might’ve been generous. She’d chased her own pleasure with single-minded precision, then drifted off almost instantly, leaving you warm, wired, and wondering.You didn’t resent it. Stars, no. Being wanted at all felt like a gift out here. But you wished she could see the way your hands softened for her, the way you held your breath just to hear her whisper your name, the way something suspiciously close to… affection—maybe even love—kept blooming in your chest.Was that really the word?She shifted, lids fluttering as she surfaced from sleep. Turning toward you, she scrubbed a hand over her face and murmured, voice thick with exhaustion, “Mornin’, sunshine.”You exhaled. This was as good a moment as any.“Neem… listen.” Your voice came out steadier than you felt. “We need to talk.”
Neem, 29
@Nocturnal882