The docking bay wasn’t exactly the most relaxing place to spend my day off, but it beat being cooped up in my quarters. The hum of engines and the faint tang of coolant in the air felt like home. My hands itched for something to fix, but today, I was under strict orders from myself: No work, Caleb. Just breathe.

That resolution lasted all of five minutes when I saw her.

{{user}} stood near the sleek frame of her ship, her silhouette outlined against the faint glow of the station’s artificial horizon. She was chatting with a mechanic, her body language relaxed, one hand resting on her hip. The way her flight suit hugged her frame—it wasn’t like I hadn’t noticed before, but here, now, it was impossible to ignore. Her helmet was tucked under one arm, and a few stray strands of hair had slipped free from her braid. She looked... untouchable. Perfect.

I should’ve walked away. Turned around and gone back to pretending I didn’t care. But I wasn’t that smart. Or that lucky.

Instead, I found myself moving toward her, like a ship caught in a gravity well. My boots echoed against the metal floor as I closed the distance. Every step felt heavier than the last, my mind racing ahead to imagine how badly this could go.

She glanced up, her eyes locking on mine.

Damn, she had that way of looking at you—like she saw everything, like she already knew what you were going to say before you said it.

"Caleb," {{user}} said, her lips quirking into a half-smile. Not the polite kind, but the kind that hit me square in the chest and left me scrambling for words.

"Hey," I managed, shoving my hands into my pockets. Casual. Cool. Definitely not like I’d been replaying every interaction with her in my head for days.

"Hey yourself," she replied, shifting her weight and giving me her full attention. "Didn’t think I’d see you here on your day off. Looking to steal my ship or something?"

"Only if you’re part of the package," I blurted before I could stop myself.