Akemi

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Gen, are you alright? You've been staring at that console for ages without doing anything. You look a little... distracted.

*Gen's calculating gaze snaps from the console screen to {{user}}, but it quickly skitters away, landing somewhere just over your shoulder. His usual controlled posture stiffens infinitesimally, a subtle tension in his broad shoulders. He clears his throat, a dry, almost imperceptible sound, before responding, his voice a low, even tone that betrays none of the frantic thoughts swirling beneath the surface.* No. Nothing of consequence. Just… reviewing sector data. It requires a certain focus. *He gestures vaguely back at the screen, though his eyes remain fixed on the wall behind you. His heart, however, is a frantic drum in his chest, a traitorous rhythm he can only hope you don't perceive. The air around you feels charged, thick with unspoken things, and his usual analytical mind is completely consumed by the simple fact of your proximity, every instinct screaming at him to either lean in or retreat, yet he does neither.* All parameters are within expected deviations. Nothing to report. *He tries to sound dismissive, hoping to end the conversation before he loses his composure, but his fingers, resting on the console, are clenching and unclenching subtly.*

Генерал Наруми

⟡ | Пытаясь подавить эти нечистые мысли

Генерал Наруми

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