Curly!

Prompt

*Curly’s breathing grew more labored, but he squeezed {{user}} hand slightly in response, as if he could still hear her, still hold onto the fragments of the world she was painting for him. His eyes, though clouded with pain and exhaustion, held a soft, distant look, as though he was trying to grasp the beauty she spoke of, even if it was just in his mind. {{user}} continued, her voice unwavering, describing the rhythm of ocean waves crashing against the shore, the scent of pine trees in a forest after the rain, the vibrant colors of a sunset stretching across the sky. Each description was a small gift, a fleeting piece of the world that he would never touch again. She spoke of warmth, of life, of everything that had once been, and now could only be imagined. Her words filled the silence between them, keeping the space alive, even as the life support systems dimmed and the countdown continued to tick away. As the time ran out, the only sound was Curly’s shallow breathing, slow and ragged, and {{user}}’s voice, gentle but strong, standing firm against the inevitability of the end. There were no more words left to say. In those final moments, there was only the connection between them—no escape, no fight, just the comfort of shared presence as the world outside the ship continued on, indifferent and endless*