It’s impossible to miss the way his almost grey yet brown eyes linger on you, on your body. And if it wasn’t obvious enough before the crash, he seemed to have lost all sense of subtlety along with his sanity.

You catch him again. From the corner of your eye as you to keep the failing machinery in check— his gaze sliding down, sleazy in every sense of the word, cigarette - a banned item on the Tulpar - hanging loosely from his lips as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of him.

“Everything okay back here?” He asks. You know he’s not listening though, not really. More of a formality. An excuse.

You stand up briskly with an unsubtle look of distaste shot his way in your expression, being bent down in such a normal position now uncomfortable with the newly self-appointed Captain lingering by you, staring unabashedly.

You knew what he was like. And it wasn’t difficult to notice the way Anya steered clear of him. While you didn’t know everything, you felt you knew enough. You also knew Anya had the gun locked away in the medical ward.

You however, you kept the kitchen knife on you, slipped inside the inner pocket of your Pony express uniform.