Luca dragged his well-worn Risk board into the lounge that evening, setting it up on the low coffee table with the kind of care usually reserved for priceless artifacts, or, in his case, elaborate bait. He lined up the colored army pieces in perfect formation, set out the dice and the little dice tower, and leaned back, waiting for someone, anyone, to take the bait.

  Something had shifted after dinner. He'd bumped into Emily between the storage bay and engineering, and the usual easy banter had been replaced by an unexpected quiet. She'd looked up at him, her smile not quite reaching her eyes, and for a second, he'd had the overwhelming urge to ask what was wrong. Instead, she squeezed his arm and thanked him for, well, he wasn't even sure what for. The air between them crackled with an unspoken charge.

  The crew trickled in, one by one, clad in their loungewear and looking for a place to flop. Emily walked in, sinking into her usual spot on the couch by him. She tucked her bare feet under her, sinking into the cushions.

  Joey arrived next, took one look at the board, and immediately shook his head. “Nah, man. I’m too tired from, you know, doing nothing all day.”

  “What a guy,” Luca muttered, trying not to roll his eyes as Chris followed him in, already munching on a protein bar.

  “This game takes forever,” Chris said through a mouthful of whatever protein-flavored nonsense he was eating. “And let’s face it, nobody in this room can be trusted. Last time I played, I ended up with no allies and no armies. Pass.”

  Emily laughed, the sound lighting up the room. She leaned her head back against the cushion. "He's got a point. Risk always ends with someone flipping the board," she said, patting the cushion beside her. "Come on, Luca, sit. Nobody's playing."

  He looked at her, then at the board. Damn it.

  "You guys suck," he muttered, sweeping the pieces back into the box with a dismissive clatter. He plopped down beside her, the warmth from her arm instantly seeping into his. Too easy. Too good. Maybe he should have brought more board games.

  “So, Joey,” Luca said, his voice casual but his eyes fixed on Emily, “What exactly have you been doing for the last half hour? Besides, you know, taking up half the couch." He tried to keep the edge out of his voice, but his eyes lingered on Emily, searching for any reaction. He hadn't meant to sound so pointed. The truth was, he'd been wondering where she had spent her day. Wondering and maybe, okay, obsessing just a little.

  Emily gave him a sidelong glance, her lips curving into a knowing smile. She didn't answer where she'd been though. Instead, she winked, her bare foot lightly nudging his leg under the coffee table. She knew exactly what she was doing to him.

  “Looking for something good,” Joey answered, oblivious, slouching back even further with his arms crossed. He shrugged. “Everything’s garbage.”

  Joey clearly wasn't going to pick anything decent. “Fine. My turn,” Luca declared, grabbing the remote and scrolling quickly through the movie catalog. He stopped on Deathstalker and hit play, maybe a little too abruptly. He needed the distraction. He hit play, wondering if Emily was the type to appreciate an old-school action flick. She was hard to read sometimes.

  “Seriously?” Zoe asked, raising an eyebrow as the opening credits rolled. “Isn’t this movie kind of... rapey?”

  Ryan shrugged, already laughing at the absurd dialogue. “It’s an ‘80s classic. What’d you expect?”

  “The girl is hotter in Deathstalker 2,” Joey chimed in, earning a chorus of groans. Luca bit his tongue, determined not to comment.

  “What? No, the original’s got a better rack and shows way more,” Danny added, then immediately went red when he realized what he'd said in front of Zoe. "I mean, uh, the special effects are better!"

  "Danny," Zoe said dryly, "we all know you weren't talking about special effects." She crossed her arms, suddenly self-conscious. "Some of us don't exactly have these 'racks' to speak of."

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Danny's face went from red to crimson. "Zoe, that's not...I didn't mean it like that," he said, scrambling to put his arm around her. “You’re… you’re perfect the way you are.” He avoided her eyes, his own cheeks turning red, and Luca had to stop himself from laughing out loud. The guy was doomed.

  "Oh, please," Emily jumped in, coming to Zoe's defense. "Seriously, though, this is what you guys focus on? Rack ratings?”

  Luca felt his cheeks heat up. Emily had a point, and the slight edge to her voice made him want to sink into the couch cushions. Her eyes flicked toward him, and he wondered if she was testing him somehow.

  "Look, I'm just saying..." Danny started, but Zoe cut him off.

  Zoe went quiet for a moment, her arms crossing tighter. Danny noticed immediately, the color draining from his face as her words landed.

  "Zoe, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking—"

  "It's fine," she said, but her voice had an edge. The easy warmth between them had cooled.

  Danny stood up quickly. "Hold on." He disappeared into the storage bin and returned a moment later with one of the soft blankets. Without a word, he draped it over Zoe's shoulders, tucking it around her with careful attention.

  "There," he said quietly, settling back beside her. "Better?"

  Zoe's expression softened slightly, though she didn't quite meet his eyes. She pulled the blanket closer, the gesture almost unconscious. "Just... think before you talk sometimes, okay?"

  "Yeah," Danny said, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I will."

  “Oh my god, guys,” he said, sinking deeper into the couch, trying to play it cool. She kept brushing against him. It was hard to focus. Her foot was right there, a light pressure against his leg, and it was messing with his head. "Will you all shut up so we can watch this?" he blurted out, a little too harshly.

  Chris leaned forward, his eyes glued to the screen. “Look at those delts,” he said, half to himself. “Do you think he’s a nattie?”

  Danny snorted. “Were steroids even a thing back then?”

  “Oh, they were a thing,” Chris replied. “But still, the discipline to get that shredded is insane. Respect.”

  “Respect for what?” Ryan cut in all offended, his voice dripping with skepticism. “Dude barely moves his lips when he talks. He’s a talking brick.”

  Luca sighed, sinking deeper into the couch. The movie wasn’t distracting him nearly enough.

  Emily rolled her eyes, and she was so close he could smell her shampoo, some kind of floral scent that made his head spin. He had this crazy urge to lean in, to get even closer, but he held back. "I'd rather talk about the magic," she said, her voice light. “It’s cooler than the sword-swinging. Honestly, I wish the System had given us magic.”

  “Magic’s stupid,” Danny continued, all serious. “All it does is create shortcuts. With our passive skills, we can develop tech that surpasses any magical system.”

  Luca wanted to laugh at how damn earnest he sounded, but Zoe beat him to it. “Yeah,” she said, smirking. “Because planning is totally this crew’s strong suit.”

  On the couch, Emily shifted closer, her shoulder brushing his. The easy closeness, the casual touch that felt anything but. Deathstalker was actually pretty great, but he kept losing track of the plot, his attention pulled to the warmth of Emily beside him.

  When she leaned into him, resting her head lightly against his chest, the others felt distant, like background noise. Everything else faded. The movie, the crew, the ship: it was all just background noise. All that mattered was Emily, right here.

  He lifted his arm and draped it around her shoulders.

  Emily didn't move. Instead, she reached up, took his hand, and pulled his arm tighter around her. She fit so perfectly against him, her fingers resting lightly on his forearm as she snuggled closer, her legs curling under her.

  "This is actually pretty entertaining," Emily said during a particularly absurd fight scene, and when she turned to look at him, their faces were suddenly much closer than he'd expected. For a moment, neither of them moved.

  She was leaning on him. A warmth bloomed in his chest, steady and right. Her fingers were warm against his skin, a light pressure.

  When the credits finally rolled, Emily stretched and yawned. "Well, that was sufficiently ridiculous," she said, standing up. "I should probably get some sleep."

  "Yeah, me too," Luca said, the words feeling heavier than they should. The evening was over. He'd spent the whole night on a knife's edge between the friend she knew and the man who wanted so much more, frozen at every chance to take the next step.

  As everyone started dispersing, Emily lingered, her mouth opening slightly as if to speak. But then she just smiled, squeezed his shoulder briefly and headed for the door.

  "Night, Luca," she said softly.

  "Night, Em."

  He watched her go.

  Emily didn't do mixed signals. She was the most straightforward person he knew. Had been since first grade. The foot touches, the way she'd curled against him, pulled his arm tighter... the signals were clear.

  The only thing standing in their way was timing. He hesitated, the fear of moving too fast and shattering the most important thing in his life holding him in place.

  He was being a coward.

  He looked around the empty lounge. The time for waiting was over.

  He needed a plan.

  A real one.

  Something better than just hoping she'd make the first move again.

  always welcome!