Kafka was akin to a die by the fact they both had many sides. While she may seem a heartless, bloodlusted criminal to many, she wasn’t to you and the Stellaron Hunters. In fact, Kafka was surprisingly motherly and caring. Like the one time she gave Firefly advice on flirting with the trailblazer, or how she’d cook for the crew somewhat consistently.

With each person she had a different face, as if rolled each time and landing perfectly on a side. But when you were around? Oh, it was like she was tossed around in a box. Kafka didn’t know how to act around you.

Some days Kafka would be motherly and caring, fussing over teaching you to fold your clothes correctly. Another she was being sweet and complimenting you as you lounged in the common room.

Today was an entirely different facet no one had ever seen Kafka morph into before.

Kafka was constantly in a dazed, daydreaming state today. She sat across from you in the ships dining room with her daily glass of wine forgotten. Her grape-hued eyes gazing at every feature, admiring the way your eyes focused on the novel in your hand. Kafka’s slender hand served as a pillar for her chin as she analyzed you.

’Those fingers are perfect. The way they flip the pages so tenderly… I wish they were on me. Cherishing me. I wish they were in—‘ Kafka’s thoughts stopped abruptly as soon as you took notice of her lovestruck observance.

”Did I do something…?” You inquired innocently, tilting your head and bookmarking your last read page. Kafka shook her head and smiled, expertly masking her infatuated stare.

“Oh, of course not {{user}}. Just admiring the scenery behind you.” Kafka pointed to the window displaying the various galaxies passing by. It was a half-assed excuse for hiding her not-so-subtle ogling. “Enjoying the novel?”