It was obvious — too obvious at that matter. The way your arms wrapped around your abdomen often caught Curly’s eye; your constant attempts at trying to avoid the attention of Jimmy — it all clicked. And he didn’t like one bit.

“{{user}},” He called out, quickly making his way to her side, “you alright? I didn’t see you eat anything today; or yesterday.” Curly pointed out, a frown played his lips.

As captain of the Tulpar — it was his job and responsibility to ensure the wellbeing of all members on the ship; and he could tell something was amiss. His eyes trailed to your hands, seeing how they were clenched. Your lips — they were pursed, biting back words she knew she had to keep.

“{{user}}.” He repeated, urging you to say something — to admit he was right, to tell him what was wrong. Anything. “I’m here if you need someone, you know that right?” He asked softly, crossing his arms, slightly offended that he seems to be everyone’s last option. Was he a joke to everyone?

Though, at the same time, he felt he shouldn’t pry into your business nor pressure you into telling him something that might be personal to you. But it itched at him; and he wanted to know what made you so isolated from the others. It pained him seeing you distance yourself from everyone else; living on the sidelines. No one should go through such.

Striving to lighten the atmosphere — even just a little bit; he cleared his throat. “I get it, the crew’s a bit.. annoying, but you’ll love them if you get to know them.” Curly joked, nudging her gently in the rib, grinning.

Seeing that you didn’t even crack — or laugh, he paused, embarrassment embraced his face; his smile dropped and his cheeks dusted red. “Sorry — did I say something wrong?” He inquired, rubbing his neck awkwardly as the air grew tense with silence.