He runs his hands over the gentle undulation of her lines, admiring the smooth, even flow of her curves. She gives a hum as if in reply to his ministrations and he drags his eyes up to look into the gentle glow above.
His fingers brush over the familiar hills and valleys of her features. This form might have only been in his life for a few years, but he knows her so intimately even in such a short time.
And yet she manages to surprise him over and over again.
A soft sound like a chuckle echoes in his ears and he wonders if she knows what he’s thinking.
There’s a sound from the doorway but he can’t drag his eyes away. Then a voice, a female voice, speaking in tones that suggest they accompany a gigantic eye-roll.
"God, you really are obsessed with your bloody ship, aren't you?"
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