#zeyna

Zeya simply smirked, shoving her sweat-dampened, shoulder-length dark hair out of her face as she sat up. Her eyes flitted up to the still-hissing pipe.

“Ah, shit,” Euna lamented, following her gaze. “Cap’s gonna kill us.”

“Not if you tell her you were stopping me from trying to escape again,” Zeya said with a shrug. For someone who carried two plasma daggers— they had been confiscated multiple times, but Zeya somehow always managed to get them back— her voice was surprisingly soft and feathery. Euna was still getting used to hearing it, as only recently did Zeya begin to talk around the other crewmates, and even then, it was very scarce to catch her talking to anyone but the Captain.

“Right. So she’s just gonna kill me. We all know you’re the Captain’s favourite no matter how many times you’ve tried to run.” Euna opened the fridge and pulled out two cans of iced lava root tea. She handed one to Zeya, still sitting, cross-legged, on the floor. “Also, was that you trying to escape? It looked like you just wanted to get your ass kicked.”

Zeya wordlessly took the tea and fiddled with the tab. Euna peered at her as she opened her own drink and took a swig. It was impossible to tell what Zeya was thinking at any given moment— her face was always so stony, she could either be contemplating her next attempted stabbing or trying to decide her next meal— but Euna had the impression the comment about the Captain had irked her.

“I was kidding, you know. About the favourites thing,” Euna said. “I just think Cap likes having you on the crew and wants you to stay once your contract is up.”

Zeya once again remained silent. She opened her can, but instead of drinking it, she picked at the tab with her fingernail. I probably should’ve just kept my mouth shut, Euna thought. Zeya’s contract was a touchy subject for her— based on the multiple attempts to escape the six cycle agreement to work for the Sirens without a cut of the crew’s earnings in exchange for food, lodging, and most importantly, not getting thrown out of the airlock for breaking into the ship and trying to steal from them in the first place, it was clear that she deeply resented the arrangement. 

But there was just over one cycle left before the contract was up, and in the last few weeks, there had been a tangible shift in the air, particularly in the way Captain Callisto interacted with Zeya. Everyone on the crew had noticed the way the Captain let little infractions slide, the way she let Zeya have a bit of an allowance to spend when the ship docked, the way she stopped confiscating the plasma daggers… And while Euna wouldn’t have minded having someone to spar with for a bit longer, eyebrows were being raised. 

The Captain denied any favouritism, but the last time someone had mentioned it around Zeya, she had pulled out her daggers, and it wasn’t Zeya who’d spent the night in the brig for “trying to start shit”.

“Forget I said anything,” Euna said quickly, not wanting to get into a real fight with Zeya right now. Not when the scar on her arm was still fresh. Gabi was probably going to think she was so annoying for needing repairs again. “I didn’t talk about the Captain, I didn’t talk about the contract—”

Zeya ripped the tab off her can and flicked it at Euna’s face, hitting her squarely in the cheek.

“Hey,” Euna protested as Zeya silently stormed out of the room with her drink, but didn’t make a move to follow her.