Emelia tapped the close-down command into her console and leaned back in her chair. She tried to stifle a yawn, feeling her eyes water as her body fought to suck in an abundance of air.
“Another shift done,” Olivier said beside her.
His console blinked black as the shut-down completed and he swivelled his chair to look at her.
“Looks like it couldn’t come a moment sooner,” He said, smiling.
Emelia returned his smile.
“I don’t know why I’m so tired,” she said. “I just feel so sapped. It’s like I go to sleep, but I don’t get any rest.”
Olivier’s smile changed to something more suggestive.
“Well, if you’re not getting any rest maybe we should make sure it’s at least worthwhile?”
He winked and she felt the blush rise up her cheeks.
“Not tonight,” she said, seeing the disappointment in his face. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” she added hurriedly. “I’m just so wiped out.”
Olivier looked downcast so she reached out to take his fingers in hers.
“Next cycle," she promised.
“If you don’t want me, that’s fine,” he said, pulling his hand away and turning from her. “I get it. Just because I… “ He paused. “I’m just saying I don’t expect you to feel the same just because I do.”
Emelia searched for the right words.
“I do,” she said. “I do want to… you know. It was nice.”
Olivier snorted.
“Nice? Oh, right.”
“I didn’t mean that—” She started, but he waved her into silence.
“It’s fine.” He got up from his chair, not looking at her as he headed for the door of their small, shared office space. “There’re plenty of women aboard who think I’m better than nice.”
The words hurt to hear. Emelia reached out a hand to his retreating back.
“Nice.” He muttered the word again as he stepped out and disappeared into the corridor.
Emelia hung her head. She never knew the right thing to say or do. She liked Olivier. She liked him a lot. But he was so confident and she… well, she wasn’t. And the way he looked at her. It made her feel tiny and scared but thrilled at the same time. How could she explain that? As for what had happened. It had been more than ‘nice’. So much more, but she didn’t have the words.
Emelia watched as her console finished it’s shut down and the display winked into blackness. She saw her face reflected in that shining blankness for a moment and she couldn’t meet her own eyes. If she couldn’t even face her reflection how could she ever be what he wanted her to be?
She turned her face away, giving the office a quick glance to ensure all was in order before she rose and stepped through the door. She pulled it closed, pressing the panel to issue the lock command. The comms office wasn’t exactly the most sensitive area of the station, but protocol demanded it be sealed when empty and the second shift team wouldn’t be here for another hour. She tested the door with a push to make sure it was properly closed and satisfied, turned on her heel to head for the trans-terminal.
She kept her head down as she walked, avoiding the eyes of crew members as she passed them. It wasn’t that she didn’t like them, or even that they didn’t like her. She just didn’t know them. If it wasn’t for the close confines of their workspace she doubted she’d ever even have spoken with Olivier. The prospect of talking to the strangers filling the station was just too daunting to face.
There was a small queue waiting for the terminal when she reached it. Emelia stood quietly at the back, close to the wall with her eyes still down. The doors opened, allowing the passengers to bustle in with their chatter and laughs. She considered letting them go without her. An arm stretched out across the open doors, preventing them from closing.
“You getting in?” A voice asked.
Emelia looked up, startled by the question as she realised it was directed at her. Eyes stared at her, questioning, judging, wondering why she stood there keeping them all waiting.
She nodded mutely, dropping her face again and stepping into the terminal. There were mutters and she heard a laugh. She felt the blush creeping up her face again and the heat on her neck as the people behind her stared.
She rode out the short journey in silence, letting the talk of the other passengers pass over and around her. The doors opened, finally, onto her level. She stepped out, seeing the familiar ‘S-2’ stamped on the wall and headed for her quarters with quick steps.
It was her only sanctuary. The only place she felt she could breathe. She’d come here to push herself. To force herself to be better, interact, be more like the people she saw every day. The people who fitted where she felt so out of place.
Two years in she’d made no headway at all. Except for Olivier.
She opened the door to her quarters, stepping inside and falling gratefully onto the narrow bed taking up a third of the tiny space.
Olivier.
She rolled over, hugging herself and thinking of the time she’d let him lead her to his bed. The time she’d let someone else be so close. The only time she’d ever let anyone be that close.
Olivier was the key. He could help her. If she could find the strength to let him. She closed her eyes, hoping for a dreamless sleep and the rest she craved. Next cycle would be different. Next cycle she would let him close again.
Emelia felt a smile of anticipation crease her lips. She could only hope it wasn’t too late.