Destiny Among the Stars - Scifi - LitRPG - Adventure

Luca dragged his well-worn Risk board into the lounge that evening, setting it up on the low coffee table with the kind of care usually reserved for priceless artifacts, or, in his case, elaborate bait. He lined up the colored army pieces in perfect formation, set out the dice and the little dice tower, and leaned back, waiting for someone, anyone, to take the bait.

Something had shifted after dinner. He'd bumped into Emily between the storage bay and engineering, and the usual easy banter had been replaced by an unexpected quiet. She'd looked up at him, her smile not quite reaching her eyes, and for a second, he'd had the overwhelming urge to ask what was wrong. Instead, she'd just squeezed his arm and thanked him for, well, he wasn't even sure what for. The moment had been charged with an unspoken emotion that had his brain in overdrive. He could still feel the phantom heat of her touch, and now? Now he couldn't stop thinking about it.

The crew trickled in, one by one, clad in their loungewear and looking for a place to flop. His eyes kept drifting to the door, waiting for her. Finally, Emily walked in, sinking into her usual spot on the couch by him. She tucked her bare feet under her, completely at ease. He forced himself to look away. Play it cool, Luca.

Joey arrived next, took one look at the board, and immediately shook his head. "Nah, man. I'm too tired from, you know, doing nothing all day."

"What a guy," Luca muttered, trying not to roll his eyes as Chris followed him in, already munching on a protein bar.

"This game takes forever," Chris said through a mouthful of whatever protein-flavored nonsense he was eating. "And let's face it, nobody in this room can be trusted. Last time I played, I ended up with no allies and no armies. Pass."

Emily laughed, the sound lighting up the room. She leaned her head back against the cushion, and Luca's breath hitched, just a little. "He's got a point. Risk always ends with someone flipping the board," she said, patting the cushion beside her. "Come on, Luca, sit. Nobody's playing."

He stared at her, then at the board, and tried to keep his eyes from drifting back to her bare feet or the way her loungewear looked just right. Damn it.

"You guys suck," he muttered, sweeping the pieces back into the box like it wasn't a big deal. He plopped down beside her, trying not to think about how natural it felt to be this close. Too easy. Too good. Maybe he should have brought more board games.

"So, Joey," Luca said, his voice casual but his eyes fixed on Emily, "What exactly have you been doing for the last half hour? Besides, you know, taking up half the couch." He tried to keep the edge out of his voice, but his eyes lingered on Emily, searching for any reaction. He hadn't meant to sound so pointed. The truth was, he'd been wondering where she was. Wondering and maybe, okay, obsessing just a little.

Emily gave him a sidelong glance, her lips curving into a knowing smile. She didn't answer where she'd been though. Instead, she winked, her bare foot lightly nudging his leg under the coffee table. The contact, however brief, sent a jolt through him. His senses sharpened, hyper-aware of everything: her foot, the faint scent of her perfume, the way she seemed to know exactly what she was doing to him. But why? He was so confused.

"Looking for something good," Joey answered, oblivious, slouching back even further with his arms crossed. He shrugged. "Everything's garbage."

Joey clearly wasn't going to pick anything decent. "Fine. My turn," Luca declared, grabbing the remote and scrolling quickly through the movie catalog. He stopped on Deathstalker and hit play, maybe a little too abruptly. He needed the distraction. And yeah, part of him was curious to see if Emily liked these old-school action flicks. She was hard to read sometimes.

"Seriously?" Zoe asked, raising an eyebrow as the opening credits rolled. "Isn't this movie kind of... rapey?"

Ryan shrugged, already laughing at the absurd dialogue. "It's an '80s classic. What'd you expect?"

"The girl is hotter in Deathstalker 2," Joey chimed in, earning a chorus of groans. Luca bit his tongue, determined not to comment.

"What? No, the original's got a better rack and shows way more," Danny added, then immediately went red when he realized what he'd said in front of Zoe. "I mean, uh, the special effects are better!"

"Danny," Zoe said dryly, "we all know you weren't talking about special effects." She crossed her arms, suddenly self-conscious. "Some of us don't exactly have these 'racks' to speak of."

Danny's face went from red to crimson. "Zoe, that's not...I didn't mean it like that." he said, scrambling to put his arm around her. "You're… you're perfect the way you are." He avoided her eyes, his own cheeks turning red, and Luca had to stop himself from laughing out loud. The guy was doomed.

"Oh, please," Emily jumped in, coming to Zoe's defense. "Seriously, though, this is what you guys focus on? Rack ratings?"

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Luca felt his cheeks heat up. Emily had a point, and the slight edge to her voice made him want to sink into the couch cushions. Her eyes flicked toward him, and he wondered if she was testing him somehow.

"Look, I'm just saying..." Danny started, but Zoe cut him off.

"You know what?" Zoe said, her voice taking on a wicked tone as she studied the screen where Deathstalker was flexing his considerable muscles. "If we're going to objectify people, let's talk about those arms. Look at those biceps. Those abs." She sighed dramatically. "Now that's what I call impressive."

Danny's face fell, and Chris straightened up with interest.

"I mean," Zoe continued, warming to her theme as she stood up with theatrical flair, "if we're ranking physical attributes, I'd much rather discuss how absolutely ripped this guy is. Those shoulders, that chest definition..."

Without warning, she crossed the room and plopped down right next to Chris on the other couch, practically draping herself against his massive frame. The contrast was striking - her petite, dancer-like figure next to his bodybuilder physique made her look even more delicate, while somehow making his arms look even more enormous.

"Speaking of impressive," she said, reaching over to squeeze Chris's bicep with obvious appreciation, "this is what real dedication looks like."

Chris's face lit up like Christmas morning. "Well, I do hit the gym pretty religiously," he said, flexing slightly under her touch. "Takes a lot of work to maintain this kind of definition in our crappy gym."

Danny, meanwhile, had gone very quiet from across the room, suddenly fascinated by his hands. The careful distance between him and Zoe now felt like a chasm.

Emily caught on immediately, a mischievous smile spreading across her face. "You're absolutely right, Zoe. Forget whatever Joey was going on about - this is much more interesting. Look at that muscle definition."

"Totally agree," Zoe said, settling back against Chris's side with a satisfied smirk, looking perfectly content in her new seat. "Some people really know how to take care of themselves physically."

"Oh my god, guys," he said, sinking deeper into the couch, trying to play it cool. She kept brushing against him. It was hard to focus. Her foot was right there, a light pressure against his leg, and it was messing with his head. "Will you all shut up so we can watch this?" he blurted out, a little too harshly.

Chris leaned forward, his eyes glued to the screen. "Look at those delts," he said, half to himself. "Do you think he's a nattie?"

Danny snorted. "Were steroids even a thing back then?"

"Oh, they were a thing," Chris replied. "But still, the discipline to get that shredded is insane. Respect."

"Respect for what?" Ryan cut in all offended, his voice dripping with skepticism. "Dude barely moves his lips when he talks. He's a talking brick."

Luca sighed, sinking deeper into the couch. The movie wasn't distracting him nearly enough.

Emily rolled her eyes, and she was so close he could smell her shampoo, some kind of floral scent that made his head spin. He had this crazy urge to lean in, to get even closer, but he held back. "I'd rather talk about the magic," she said, her voice light. "It's cooler than the sword-swinging. Honestly, I wish the System had given us magic."

"Magic's stupid," Danny continued, all serious. "All it does is create shortcuts. With our passive skills, we can develop tech that surpasses any magical system."

Luca wanted to laugh at how damn earnest he sounded, but Zoe beat him to it. "Yeah," she said, smirking. "Because planning is totally this crew's strong suit."

On the couch, Emily shifted closer, her shoulder brushing his, and a thrill shot through him. This was new, all of it. This easy closeness, the casual touch that felt anything but. Deathstalker was actually pretty great, but the warmth of Emily beside him was a constant, happy distraction.

When she leaned into him, resting her head lightly against his chest, the world narrowed. The others felt distant, like background noise. What mattered was Emily. The gentle weight of her head, the scent of her shampoo, and the steady rhythm of her breathing. This was everything he'd been hoping for, and it was even better than he'd imagined.

His hand twitched. He hesitated for a heartbeat. Was this really okay? Before he could overthink it into oblivion, he lifted his arm and draped it around her shoulders. His heart was pounding, a rapid, excited beat.

To his relief, Emily didn't move. Instead, she reached up, took his hand, and pulled his arm tighter around her. Just like that, any lingering doubt vanished. She fit so perfectly against him, her fingers resting lightly on his forearm as she snuggled closer, her legs curling under her. It felt… incredible.

"This is actually pretty entertaining," Emily said during a particularly absurd fight scene, and when she turned to look at him, their faces were suddenly much closer than he'd expected. For a moment, neither of them moved, and he could see the flecks of gold in her green eyes, could feel her breath on his cheek.

She was leaning on him. Actually leaning on him. It felt… perfect. Her fingers were warm against his skin, a light pressure that sent a pleasant shiver through him. He could feel the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, a rhythm that seemed to sync with his own.

When the credits finally rolled, Emily stretched and yawned. "Well, that was sufficiently ridiculous," she said, standing up. "I should probably get some sleep."

"Yeah, me too," Luca said, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. The evening was over, and he felt like he'd spent the whole time walking a tightrope between the friendship they had and the something more he desperately wanted, never quite sure how to take the next step.

As everyone started dispersing, Emily lingered for a moment, like she wanted to say something. But then she just smiled, squeezed his shoulder briefly and headed for the door.

"Night, Luca," she said softly.

"Night, Em."

He watched her go, his shoulder still tingling where she'd touched him.

But something nagged at him. Emily didn't do mixed signals, she was the most straightforward person he knew. Had been since first grade. So what was tonight about? The foot touches, the way she'd curled against him, pulled his arm tighter...

The invisible wall he'd imagined between them for so long wasn't real. It had never been real. The only thing standing in their way was him. His own hesitation. His own fear of messing up the single most important thing in his life.

He was just being a coward.

He looked around the empty lounge. The time for waiting was over.

He needed a plan.

A real one.

Something better than just hoping she'd make the first move again.