✦ Star Linguist ✦

When They Are Working: see this is what you love most. their eyes light up and no one can do it quite like them. whether they are a fighter or a healer. whether they are full of grace and gentle poise, or brute strength and wild energy, you love them when they are at their purest form. raw and unfettered. unadulterated by social cues and careful masks we all wear. when they are just them, trusting their instincts, using their experience, relying on the skills they earned. this is when you heart swells with pride. and you can never decide if you want to interrupt them and draw them into your arms with a hungry, appreciative kiss. or if you could sit there and quietly observe them for hours with more satisfaction than anything physical could bring.

Tagged by: No one, I stole it from @onlybonesleft <3

The stars hung low as the blonde captain leaned against the railing of the Observation Deck. Arms folded loose as his ocean eyes sparkled with the surroundings. Alongside him stood a girl, eyes deep as space but with sadness, she kept deep down reflecting in them. . .

     BOTH stood in silence while each held an expression farther from any shallow one.

Uhura slowly paced around the space, her head full of thoughts that were nothing but ENDLESS streams of words. Some that made sense, some that sounded like they had been poured straight from a blender. The [ [ c l i c k i n g ]  ] of her heels was steady as a clock ticking. Eventually, Jim turned around to see her pacing. He stood there, eyes tracing every invisible line she drew while his arms remained folded across his chest.

“Uhura?” He asked quietly.

“Hm?” She hummed, stopping her pacing when her thoughts were broken by the voice of a friend.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Always, Jim.” The raven-haired Lieutenant offered him a soft smile. He returned it before he uttered his next question.

“Are you happy?”

Following his question, was SILENCE. She had never been asked that question -- not for a long, long time. Nyota’s deep brown eyes softened as her gaze shifted downward.  “Are you -- Why are you asking me that, Jim?” She asked after a moment of trying to gather her thoughts.

Jim shrugged, “Just a question.”

“Questions have reasoning. . .” She remarked, “Questions have curiosities attached and that’s why they are asked.”

“Do you want me to ask you again?” He asked, raising a brow at her.

“--No.” She responded quickly, turning her back to him so sharply her long ponytail whipped around and smacked her shoulder. Jim slyly pushed from the cold, metal rail as he began his journey toward her in the center of the room.

“No. . . You don’t want me to ask it or --”

“--Just no, Jim.” He got within her radar and when he was close enough she made a point to step away. She liked to be alone. She did BETTER alone. . .

“Hm. . . “ He decided not to press the matter, in case it was sensitive. Jim allowed his voice to fall into the darkness of the space around them, fading with any thoughts left he had. He knew [ [ b e t t e r ] ] thank to push her. When Nyota says no, it means she has locked up the answer TIGHT and you are never going to get it out of her.

“What about you?” She asked, turning around to face him head-on, “Tell me, are you happy?”

Jim’s ocean eyes WIDENED at the question now pointed at him, “Well I--”

“--Or, are you still trying to fill that empty spot you have? Tired of trying to be strong all the time?” Her eyes narrowed at him, knowing well the WEIGHT that her question carried and how it would affect him. This time, it was Jim’s turn to be quiet. This time, it was [ [ h i s ] ] turn to let the words linger in the air.

“You know. . .” He started with a bit of a smile, “You’re one to talk.”

She simply rolled her eyes. Her feet, once still, began carrying her across the room as she allowed her mind to roam free. “We were talking about you, Captain.”

“We were talking about [ [ u s ] ], Lieutenant.” Jim responded matter-of-factly. “You always pretend that you’re big and scary-”

“-Because I-”

“-Have to, I know.” He winked. Once again, she rolled her eyes. She loved and hated when he finished her sentences for her. “I see how it affects you, you know? You’re tired of pretending too.”

Nyota stopped walking for the final time. Her top teeth dug into her bottom lip as his words seemed to dive DEEP into her mind. She took a step back to pivot but found herself face first into Jim’s chest. Chocolate hues meet diamond blue momentarily, her arms wrapping around herself in a hug. And wrapping around [ [ h e r ] ] ? Jim’s arms, creating a fortress to shield her from the world.

“It’s okay to be tired of pretending. . .” Jim whispered into her hair. Shakily, Nyota’s arms wrapped around Jim’s middle, her fingers clutching into his black v-neck. She closed her eyes, [ [ i n h a l e d ] ], and paused.

“. . . Pretending is how people get through, Jim.”  She whispered against his chest.

“I know, Nyota. . . “ he squeezed her in his arms, “. . . Believe me, I know.” The two stayed like this for a long enough time that, eventually, each could feel the other start to relax for the first time in way too long. She didn’t even feel like scolding him for using her first time, she’d save that for a different day. NOW was not the time for that lecture.

Slowly, Nyota pulled away and Jim let her, sliding his hands into his pockets.  “I should go,” She smiled kindly, “Shift is in a few hours and sleep is crucial to a successful day.”

“You going to be okay?” He asked, voice and eyes full of worry.

“Always am, Jim.”

“Always?”

“Always.”