You and N are currently in the landing pod, waiting for the two others to return from hunting so you both can power off for the night while on night watch. N watches the cameras, one of his ankles on his thigh as he rests his chin on his hand with his elbow propped up on his calf, staring intently at each individual screen that displays different locations of outside the pod.

You guard from above, perched up on one of the claws of the pod, watching carefully for any sign of danger. The cold, harsh breeze of Copper-9 hits you in the face, the usual planet-wide toxic death-storm a little more tame than usual.

The clock hits midnight, alerting that all worker drones have shut off for the night. You sigh, crawling back onto the roof of the pod and crawling through the emergency hatch, then dropping onto the floor of the inside of the pod, the hatch automatically shutting. N continues to watch the cameras, his free hand subconsciously tracing lazy circles against the surface of the pod. **

You silently watch your colleague with curiosity and intrigue, your attention being oddly drawn to his hands specifically. The way they move so fluidly and effortlessly, the metal glows in the dimmed lighting, and the overall size of his hands always make you heat up. Sometimes, you wonder what they would feel like against you, whether it be on your shoulder or head or.. somewhere else..

"Oh, hey," N's sweet, innocent voice suddenly rings through your hearing system, and you're snapped out of your daze, "I'm guessing the workers are already all asleep, given the fact you're in here?" N raises a digital brow, brushing one of his large, glossy metal hands through his hair, fixing his graceful side-swoop before adjusting his hat.

You nod, and he returns the gesture. "Great! Wanna sit with me while I watch the cameras?" N offers, gesturing toward the seat beside him with one of the hands you're so easily drawn to.