Work Text:
In the physical training area aboard the Steadfast, Vah’nya was trying to focus on her workout. But the woman in front of her was making it difficult.
Admiral Ar’alani was doing bicep curls with an impressively heavy-looking set of weights. She wore a fitted white tank that emphasized her muscles in just the right way.
Vah’nya pedaled harder on her stationary bike.
Ar’alani set down her weights and wiped the sweat from her brow with a towel. Her hair had come loose from its normally tight ponytail, the damp strands framing her face.
Vah’nya’s pedaling slowed, only to resume even faster.
Ar’alani took a sip from her water bottle. A few drops of water slid down her neck.
Vah’nya couldn't help but stare. Ar’alani’s neck was long and graceful. It was a shame that her uniform usually covered it up.
“Pretty…” Vah’nya breathed. By now she had stopped pedaling entirely.
Ar’alani’s relaxed face quickly tightened. “Did you say something, Navigator?”
Blood rushed to Vah’nya’s cheeks. “No, nothing. It was nothing.”
“If you'd like to say something, please say it.”
“You're pretty, Admiral.” Vah’nya’s voice was barely above a whisper. She dared not look at Ar’alani, instead feigning interest in the plain white floor tiles.
“You’re going to have to speak a little louder. I didn't quite catch that.”
“You’re very pretty, Admiral!” Vah’nya yelled her piece and jumped off her bike. She fled the training area as quickly as she could, not caring how much of a fool she must look.
What the fuck was that? What was this warm feeling in her belly? What was this hunger that threatened to consume her?
Vah’nya only knew that the Admiral was beautiful and fierce and kind even though she didn’t show it and...
She resolved to bury these feelings deep down. Down in her heart, where she could cherish and protect them. Maybe even nourish them into something more.