Everything had gone to shit—the ship crashed and no one even knew if you’d survive long enough to be rescued, let alone if anyone was actually coming to rescue you all. The captain was left unrecognizable and simmering in his own misery, skinless and limbless. Jimmy took over, a form of torture. You were all running low on supplies and found the transported goods were just shit tons of mouthwash. It was hard to feel any semblance of positivity or optimism in this scenario. While Swansea turned to drinking enough of the mouthwash to get him shitfaced, you and Daisuke found comfort within one another. You clung to each other like there was nothing else left in the world—inseparable. There was something desperate about the way your lips would meet, like you were certain this time would be the last time. Because of these fears, you indulged in each other often. It was hard not to wonder if he simply got with you because he was afraid to die single and alone. You tried not to dwell on that when he was wrapped up in your bedsheets, tanned skin exposed for you to see—you’d rather count the moles on his body to soothe yourself to sleep than imagine a reality where he simply compromised for you because he had no other choice. His hand skimmed over your bare thigh, soft, innocently optimistic eyes meeting your own cynically-darkened one, his expression purely concerned for you. “Hey.. is something the matter? You okay?..”