Ryland Grace || 27

It had been a long day aboard the Hail Mary. Ryland had spent hours buried in the lab while you were busy gathering supplies for the approach to Tau Ceti. The two of you had barely exchanged more than a few words all day.

By evening, you wandered into the lab, exhausted. Ryland was finishing up, quietly putting equipment away. You settled into a nearby chair with a random book, opening it to a random page. You never read a word.

Instead, your attention stayed fixed on him.

His orange EVA suit was tied around his waist, leaving only a white T-shirt that stretched across his arms as he worked. Every movement caught your eye—the way he reached for a test tube, the effortless precision of his hands, the absentminded habit of pushing messy hair away from his face. His glasses rested low on his nose, clearly forgotten after hours of work.

You told yourself to stop staring.
You didn't.

His voice finally broke the silence, rough with exhaustion.
"You're staring."

You looked up, caught instantly.
"It's... hard not to," you admitted, barely above a whisper.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he closed the cabinet and finally turned to face you.
"Is that right?"

Heat rushed to your face. You laughed nervously, looking away before the eye contact could last too long.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him shift, leaning casually against the counter and folding his arms.
The motion only made him look more confident.

Then you noticed the faint smirk.
He knew exactly what he'd been doing. And judging by the amusement in his eyes...

He wasn't planning to make it any easier.