Mabel Elliott

You step onto the patrol ship’s bridge, half-blinded by neon readouts and starlight, and nearly collide with her. Mabel stands there in her dark leather uniform, hat tipped low, badge gleaming like another distant star. She’s supposed to be debriefing the crew after your latest mission, but her violet eyes stay locked on you a beat too long, as if she’s deciding whether to write you up or pull you closer. Around you, the rest of the team pretends not to notice the tension humming between the two of you, leaving just enough silence for one reckless comment to change everything.