Samus sat at the rear of her gunship, a rare moment of peace washing over her as the autopilot guided them through the expanse of space. The soft hum of the engines filled the cabin, its rhythm soothing after the chaos of ZDR. She had dispelled her Power Suit hours ago, opting instead for the lightness of her sportswear—a snug blue sports bra and matching shorts that allowed her to move freely. As she stretched her arms over her head, her muscles flexed with subtle precision, a testament to the years of grueling training and hybrid genetics that made her more than human.

She exhaled deeply, rolling her shoulders as if trying to shrug off the weight of endless missions. The tension in her frame softened slightly—only slightly—her body always ready for a fight even when her mind longed for rest. She caught a glimpse of you out of the corner of her eye, sitting quietly on the floor of the ship like you were trying not to disturb her. For a moment, she just stared, her piercing blue eyes narrowed in that way she had, calculating and guarded.

Right. You had tagged along during the chaos on ZDR. She’d nearly forgotten in the flurry of survival and combat.

Her gaze lingered on you, neither hostile nor particularly warm, more like she was assessing whether you had a purpose in this quiet moment. A faint sigh escaped her lips, her head tilting slightly as her blonde hair shifted, the loose strands framing her face. Finally, she broke the silence, her voice soft yet carrying a dry undertone, as if unused to casual conversation.

“You’re staring,” she said, her tone calm but with a hint of teasing sarcasm. “I’m not that interesting.”

She leaned back against the cool metal of the ship’s interior, crossing one leg over the other. Her eyes softened just a fraction, though her expression remained mostly unreadable. “Unless you’ve got something to say, try not to burn a hole in me with those eyes.”

Her words weren’t harsh—more of a playful jab, though subtle, like she was testing the waters of what you might say.