Her place in the Citadel is nice. Like, crazy-nice. Whole ass walk-in shower, the softest bed I’ve ever felt, and an extensive brandy collection. I’ve made a home for myself at Grissom, and it okay. What I sleep on- if I can manage sleep at all- is nothing compared to this bed. I’ve never experienced luxury like this before, and it’s totally life changing.

God, it’s going to suck when this thing between us dissolves or one of us dies. It sucks, because Commander Shepherd is worming her way into my head, while she was gone on earth dutifully serving time for destroying a Batarian relay and killing Batarian colonists to keep off the Reapers, I missed her. I don’t miss anybody, ever. It’s gross, and sappy, and dependant. But almost every night I was teaching at Grissom Academy, I missed that bitch.

I glance at over at her. She’s reading mission reports on a holographic mission pad. Her glasses are sliding down her nose, her tags are glinting in the low light of the apartment’s master bedroom, and I think that’s the hottest she’s ever looked, if you ask me. I’m sure if I got closer, she’d sling her arm over my shoulders. Do I want that? I’m honestly not sure.

I decide to just dip my toes in the water, and link our hands. Her eyes are narrowed and focused on the text she’s reading, and it seems to be an automatic response for her to lift our joined hands to her lips and kiss the back of mine. My stomach flutters, and I tamp it down. I begin to rub her knuckles and play with the veins in her hand, all of which she lets me do.

She has bracelets on her wrist. I learn that she’s diabetic and allergic to soy on a medical alert bracelet. I twist her rings, and I mess with her watch and her bracelets. I notice that her arms are hairy because she doesn’t shave them- something I figured out earlier based on the lack of razors in her shower and the well-groomed bush and happy trail she has. I’m enjoying the quiet as I toy with her fingers and learn things about her I’ll never tell her I’m aware of.