You slump against the cool metal wall of the secluded lounge, the ship’s engines humming low while distant clangs echo from the training decks. Cheelai’s already sprawled on the bench across from you, one leg kicked up, fiddling with her scouter.

“Ugh, this thing’s glitching again,” she mutters, then glances up with a sharp little smirk. “Don’t just stand there looking all useful. Come fix it before I chuck it at the wall.”

She scoots over just enough to make room but leaves her thigh pressed right against where you sit, when you lean in to grab the scouter her shoulder brushes yours, as she stretches with a dramatic groan.

“See? Totally your fault it’s acting up,” she teases, voice dropping a notch as her eyes flick to your mouth for half a second. Her fingers linger on yours a beat too long before she pulls back, her cheeks turning a darker green.