What just happened?

The scene I had just witnessed refused to settle in my mind. I stood frozen, staring blankly at the door. Neight had never shown his emotions so openly before, and it left me completely baffled. I couldn't even figure out how to react.

What did he mean? Is something troubling him that much? Why now? Should I run after him and ask directly? But wouldn’t that seem too intrusive?

Snapping out of my stupor, I sank onto the bunk, leaning against the wall. Tilting my head back, I let my thoughts wander. His sorrowful expression lingered in my mind, vivid and unforgettable. It had only taken a moment to etch itself into my memory: those gleaming amber eyes, cast downward, framed by thick, white lashes that seemed dusted with winter’s chill. What was he hiding behind that gaze?

Sliding down the wall, I curled up on my side, resting my head on the pillow, and glanced again toward the door—toward the very spot where Neight had stood.

He said today would be the last day he leaves like this. Is it related to his work, the one he’s been consumed with for so long? I never fully understood what he needed all that data for... What happens once he’s done? Is it dangerous?

A wave of anxiety washed over me, and I hugged the pillow tightly, lost in thought. Maybe I was overthinking it again. Maybe it was something else entirely. But if not work, then what?

Surely, he couldn’t be... in love with me? I thought, half-jokingly.

But as soon as the thought formed, I froze, and a blush ignited on my cheeks. A sudden rush of nervous energy surged through me, and my heart pounded so loudly it seemed to echo through my whole body. Even if a full orchestra were playing in this small cabin right now, I doubted I would hear it over the deafening thrum of my pulse.

No, no, no! Of course not! What nonsense!

I clutched the pillow tighter, squeezing my eyes shut as I shook my head, trying to banish the absurd thoughts.

We’re too different. Too... Yes, he cares about me, and we’ve gotten along better lately, but he made it clear our partnership is purely for survival. Only for survival...

The bitterness of that realization stung, and I turned to face the wall, pressing my face into the pillow. My heart still refused to calm down, hammering relentlessly in my chest.

What’s wrong with me? Why do I even care what he thinks of me? It’s not like I could’ve...

A shiver ran through me, from my fingertips to the top of my head, leaving a tingling warmth concentrated in my cheeks. These feelings were new, unfamiliar, and terrifying. Trying to shake them off, I let out a muffled groan into the pillow and rolled from side to side.

Mmmph... This is the last thing I needed!

After exhausting myself with all the tossing and turning, I flopped onto my back and stared at the ceiling. The frantic movement had worn me out, leaving me breathless.

Ugh... All these thoughts are ridiculous! Why did I even let myself think that? I scolded myself.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t think about anything else.

Yes, we’ve spent some time together, struggling to survive and adapt to this planet’s conditions. And, okay, maybe he is attractive... At least, his looks aren’t ordinary... But damn it, he looks so much like Albert! It’s unnervingly similar! Even if, hypothetically, something could happen between me and Neight, how awkward would it be once we save Albert? He’s like a little brother to me... No, it’s impossible!

The more I dwelled on it, the more I felt trapped by my own thoughts. The harder I tried to deny my feelings, the more real they became. They felt both enticing and forbidden, out of reach. And that made it all the more painful. Biting my lip, I didn’t even realize when the tears started.

How did it come to this? All I wanted was to understand Neight, and now I was tangled up in my own emotions.

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We met in the kitchen since it was lunchtime. I tried my best to act as if nothing was wrong, as if there were no inner turmoil gnawing at me. But deep down, even I knew I was doing a terrible job. My lack of appetite made me idly push around the green puree on the plate with a spoon. My forced smile made cheeks ache, and the corners of the mouth began to twitch. I wanted to sink into the ground or hide somewhere secluded, anything to escape the shame.

At first, it seemed like Neight was ignoring my odd behavior, but at some point, he began watching me intently, concern evident in his eyes. I avoided his gaze as much as possible, and whenever our eyes did meet, I panicked, feeling as though a wildfire of emotions had ignited inside me, demanding immediate control.

"Emma, are you okay?" Neight asked carefully.

I flinched at the sound of his voice, like thunder crashing on a clear day.

"Y-yeah, I’m fine. No need to worry. B-by the way, how’s your work going?" I hurried to change the subject, forcing an even wider smile that made my jaw ache.

I must look pathetic…

"If you’re asking about my work, everything’s going according to plan. But I’m worried about you. You don’t look well. Are you sick?"

Ha! If only…

My smile faded, and I lowered my now sullen gaze. Tears welled up in eyes, but I still tried to hold it together.

"You might be right... Maybe I really am coming down with something," I muttered quietly.

"This could be serious. You should get a medical checkup. Let me walk you to the lab," he said seriously, rising from his seat abruptly, ready to help.

I hadn’t expected such a swift reaction and was taken aback for a moment.

"T-thank you for your concern, but it’s not necessary. It’s not that bad. Just a little fatigue," I waved him off. "But I’ll follow your advice and get checked after lunch, okay?"

I still couldn’t meet his eyes, but I plastered on a polite smile, trying to reassure both him and myself. Puzzled, Neight sat back down without insisting further.

"You once told me that if something ever troubled me, I could always talk to you… Emma, if something’s bothering you, you can share it with me too. I’ll help however I can," he said softly.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

His words stirred mixed emotions in me. On the one hand, it was nice that he cared enough to offer help. On the other, it hurt because he hadn’t confided in me earlier. Maybe if he’d told me what was troubling him this morning, I wouldn’t be in this situation.

It’s unfair to expect honesty from me when you don't share anything with me!"

I knew my reaction was childish, maybe even foolish, but I couldn’t help it.

"Thanks… I’ll keep that in mind," I replied curtly.

Realizing I had no intention of opening up, Neight’s expression turned somber. He didn’t press me further, and an awkward silence settled over the kitchen. We didn’t speak again.

As usual, Neight finished his meal much faster than I did, but he waited for me to finish. Maybe he was hoping I’d change my mind and tell him what was on my mind. But that wasn’t part of my plan—not now, at least.

"I’m going," I said, getting up from the table.

He didn’t say a word as I slowly walked to the door. A part of me wished he would stop me, but I was also terrified of that possibility. I wanted to share my feelings with him, to confess my complicated emotions, but I knew they were likely unrequited. And even if they were, nothing good would come of it.

I just need time, and this will pass, I convinced myself.

Still, I lingered at the door, clinging to a faint hope that he might stop me and pull me into a comforting embrace. But the problem was that all these intense feelings existed only in my head.

I’m the one who fell for him, and he doesn’t even know. I haven’t said a word, and he can’t read minds… Of course, he won’t do anything. He won’t stop me or say anything…

I left the kitchen, overwhelmed by a crushing sense of loneliness and despair.

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I couldn’t shake the feeling of gloom, and any attempt to distract myself was futile. We met Neight again at dinner, but we didn’t exchange a single word. It hurt too much to look at him, so I kept my eyes fixed on my plate. The green mash made from grinveg had become unbearable, utterly unappetizing and even repulsive. I could’ve cooked something else, maybe the poultry we had left, but I didn’t have the energy or will to try.

Forcing myself to swallow another spoonful, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Neight’s mood wasn’t much different from mine. His strangely vacant gaze was also directed downward, as if he was searching for answers within himself but failing to find any. After a while, he opened his mouth to say something, but the moment his eyes met mine, we both quickly averted our gazes.

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It had been a terrible day. Just awful. The only consolation was that it was finally over, and maybe tomorrow would be a little better. I lay on my bunk in total darkness, wrapped tightly in a blanket and facing the wall. The cabin was deathly quiet, with no one but me inside. Neight still hadn’t returned from the control room, and I wasn’t sure if he would at all tonight. Strangely enough, I couldn’t tell if that thought brought me comfort or made me feel worse.

God, I’m completely lost...

Gradually, sleep began to overtake me, my thoughts dissolving into a haze as I drifted toward unconsciousness. But suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps shattered my fragile state of drowsiness. I heard the cabin door open, and someone crept inside. Of course, I knew who it was. Neight moved cautiously toward his bunk, clearly trying not to wake me, but then he stopped. I couldn’t hear him lying down, so I was sure he was still standing in the same place, his face right at the level of my top bunk. Was he looking at me right now? The thought alone made my face burn with heat.

"Emma, are you sleeping?" Neight whispered.

Just four words, yet they threw me into a panic, a storm of emotions erupting inside me.

What should I do? Should I answer? No, I can’t!

Terrified of the conversation that might follow—a conversation I wasn’t ready for—I decided to pretend to be asleep. Deep down, I knew it was the wrong choice and that I might regret it later. But I remained perfectly still, holding my breath and making no sound, hoping not to betray myself.

Neight lingered for a moment, waiting. When no response came, he sighed quietly, a note of sadness in the sound, and finally lay down. Guilt gnawed at me, along with a deep sense of disappointment in myself.

What did he want to talk about?

Was it too late to answer now? I could pretend I’d just woken up and hear him out. Part of me wanted to, but the words wouldn’t come. It was as if my voice had abandoned me entirely.

I never found the courage to say anything or even give a sign. I lied to him... I couldn’t listen when he might have needed it most.

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Several days had passed since then. Neither of us dared to start a conversation about what was gnawing at us. If anything, it felt like we were both doing our best to pretend that nothing was bothering us, though it wasn’t exactly convincing. Polite, forced smiles and sad glances were all we managed.

As promised, Neight had finished his work, so he no longer stayed in the control room. We even played a few rounds of Battleship. During the game, he seemed focused and distracted from his problems, acting more like his usual self, which I found comforting. I truly enjoyed those moments spent together, though I couldn’t help but feel my cheeks flush whenever he smiled. My feelings hadn’t gone anywhere.

However, things were much more complicated during my shooting practice under his guidance. I couldn’t concentrate, and my performance had deteriorated. My shots frequently missed the target, sometimes by a wide margin, because my hands were trembling, and my breathing was erratic from nervousness. Still, I noticed that, despite my obvious mistakes, Neight had become more lenient. He commented on my errors less often and occasionally tried to encourage me gently. He no longer rushed over to correct my stance, though secretly, I wished he would.

God, what am I even thinking?!

I was embarrassed by my own thoughts. And the longer this went on, the clearer it became that things couldn’t continue like this. So, on one of the crisp, cool days when we were scouting the forest again, I finally made up my mind.

"Neight, can we talk?"

My heart pounded wildly. I could hardly believe I was about to confess my feelings. I was terrified of being rejected, yet I had no idea what to do if he reciprocated. But I couldn’t leave things as they were. And now that I had initiated the conversation, there was no turning back.

Neight, who was walking ahead, stopped and turned toward me.

He silently looked at me for a moment before replying, "Alright, let’s talk. Sooner or later, this was bound to happen."

He tried to stay composed, but there was sadness in his voice.

"Do you mind if we take off our helmets? It’s better to see each other’s faces for a conversation like this, don’t you think?" he added.

His suggestion caught me off guard and left me deeply flustered. It would have been much easier to talk with my face hidden behind a mask. But he was right. It wouldn’t be right. If I was going to talk about my feelings, I needed to find the courage to do it properly.

I nodded in agreement, and we both removed our helmets. My cheeks were burning, but I tried to stay composed and looked at Neight. The snow-white hair fluttered slightly in the wind, standing out like the first snowfall against the green forest backdrop. His eyes glimmered like lonely stars in the icy expanse of space. He was like winter itself—sometimes harsh, a little intimidating, even piercingly cold at times, yet undeniably beautiful. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him, and my breath caught in my throat.

"Neight, I wanted to tell you that..."

"Emma, I have long wanted to tell you…"

We spoke at the same time, creating an awkward moment.

"A-alright, speak first," I muttered in embarrassment.

He took a deep breath, clearly gathering his thoughts, while I stood silently, ready to listen. For some reason, I had a bad feeling.

Why does your gaze seem so sad?

"First of all," he began, "I want you to know that I’ve decided to tell you everything because you’ve become someone important to me."

So… this conversation won’t be about love, I thought bitterly.

"I don’t want to hide the truth from you anymore… even if you end up hating me for it," Neight continued.

His words left me confused.

What do you mean?

I watched him intently, waiting for him to continue. His eyes dropped, filled with guilt, as if he were about to confess to something terrible.

"The thing is," he said quietly, "I'm not…"

He didn’t get to finish. A loud roar echoed in the sky, and a ship identical to ours flew overhead, swiftly vanishing behind the tree canopy. Frozen in place, we stared in shock as it disappeared.

Terrified, I turned to Neight. His wide-eyed expression betrayed his surprise, but after a few seconds his face became irritated and he slowly ran his hands over it.

"No, please, not now!" he said doomedly.