Lupcretia tenders

They'd been /close/ for a while now; not quite /all the way/, but it felt to Lucretia as if this could be the year that sealed the deal for them - both of them, together, as a /something/.

Maybe it was the beautiful pink blossoming trees of this planet, or the ethereal chiming sound on the wind, or just the way Lup looked with her hair in a messy bun and jacket around her hips; it was hard to say, but /something/ had inspired the two of them to take a walk together, soaking up the last of the planet's sun in the days before it ended.

No one could have anticipated the Hunger's speed, this time, and Lucretia could only watch in terror as their beautiful, potential /something/ turned to vicious blackness around them.

--

Lup approaches her one night not long after. They're still orbiting the atmosphere of their next planet, where everything appears to be hard obsidian, and although it's her job to record, Lucretia can't conjure any more synonyms for /bleak/ as she stares at the landscape through the Starblaster's window.

She welcomes the distraction of Lup's presence, and puts her quill down.

"I prefer the pink trees," Lup starts, voice quiet although no one else is in the hall, "It-- I really wish we coulda saved that planet."

Lucretia nods, breath and words and /potential/ caught in her throat. "I wish we could save /all/ of them."

For a moment, it's just the quiet hum of the engine and the expanse of space around them.

"You…" Lup inhales, and then stops, brow furrowing as she considers herself, "We have each other, though. We'll always have each other through all this."

Lucretia tries to smile. She didn't feel much like she /had/ Lup when she watched her die amongst pink blossoms only days ago.

She takes a breath before the silence can grow too cold. "Yes. Of course. The team is a blessing, I-"

"I don't mean the team." The wrinkles in Lup's brow shift and deepen. "Well. I /do/, but. You and I, Lucretia. /Us/. We have each other, don't we? There's- It's…" She trails off, lips (plush, red) parted as if she still wants to speak, but can't find the words.

Despite her profession, Lucretia feels no more eloquent. She nods, swallows around her heartbeat.

"Yeah. Yes. It's… /something/, Lup."

Around them, galaxies spin, but when Lup puts her arm around her, the space between them feels steady and still.