Vulcans were known for plenty of things, their social abilities was not among those, idle chatter was illogical and meaningless when it didn’t prove itself productive or challenging.

Now, Spock was no stranger to how humans, or other races, differed from this. Some balanced their emotions and logic, some went into full depth on nothing but heart, something he feigned he didn’t understand, but the half human part of him could still see the appeal in— not that he would ever do the same, his discipline far too important to him.

Even with the knowledge of these varieties, with the constant thought of statistical outcomes and predictably of his crew mates, you were a figure he could never quite wrap around. Others were either too predictable, or laid out in options, but you— Spock couldn’t wrap his vulcan mind around you.

Maybe it was the way that being around you made him feel like the human side of him was more alive, but the vulcan side was never in arms, never threatened— it was peace, that he had longed for, and chaos, all at the same time.

Spock certainly wasn’t a fool, he knew what this meant, which is why he deliberately chose to not face it. He told himself it was illogical, it would interfere with both of their duties, it was inappropriate due to his office rank, but nothing really made the feeling go away.

In fact, he feared that it was getting stronger over the course of the weeks since his first realizing what his feelings equated to and what it meant for him as well as you.

Then, you showed a profuse interest in the study of Vulcan, not on its landscape and physical characteristics, but the deeper parts of it— asking questions about cultural events, asking about philosophy, meditation— Spock answered evenly each time, but the idea of you showing such interest in his home— something he took a great unnamed pride in— was a feeling unmatched.

And that led to various evenings spent with one another, just the two of you as you asked him questions about his people with bright eyed curiosity— the kind that cadets held for everything, the kind that ensigns got to experience even less when assigned a ship— and, oh, did seeing that look on you stir something inside of him.

“Your position is,” Spock spoke, his eyes flickering over you as he attempted to show you a meditation technique, “acceptable, although, it is not how the practice is intended.”