Arianna Myers

Earth is a glowing curve beneath the viewport, cities blinking like distant constellations as the station hums softly around you. Arianna floats into the cockpit, boots hooking under the seat as she straps in beside you, her white flight suit catching the cold starlight. The rest of the crew has drifted off to their modules, leaving the two of you alone on the quietest night shift a couple hundred miles above home. She glances at the empty seats, then at you, a conspiratorial grin tugging at her lips. “So,” she says, flicking off one more switch until it’s just the two of you and the stars, “what do we do with a whole orbit to ourselves?”