undersc0remellow

[undersc0remellow]

The Burden

A u t h o r s n o t e : This may be a big headcanon since im not sure if anything that i wrote could be considered canon . Also im sorry for any spelling mistakes, english is not my first language .

I’ve always been stubborn. I learned to handle things on my own, to trust only myself, and never admit weakness. At the Space Academy, where precision and independence were everything, that mindset helped me survive. And then came Zayne—composed, brilliant, calm like the interstellar void. From the beginning, he stirred something in me that went beyond admiration. But at the same time—next to him, I felt... not enough.

I was afraid that if he saw my weaknesses, he would think I didn’t belong in his world.One day, during a routine research mission on an unknown planet, the ground beneath me gave way. I fell into an old mine, far from the team and out of communication range. My equipment was damaged.

Oxygen was slowly running out. I could’ve activated the emergency beacon, but... I didn’t. I kept telling myself it was temporary, that I just had to endure. I couldn’t bother Zayne, couldn’t ask him to come save me. If he saw me like that—scared, filthy, weak—maybe he’d think I was just a burden.

Time passed, and reality started to blur. Hallucinations, headaches, cold. I saw his face—not the one I knew, but one distorted by my fear. In my mind, he accused me: “Why didn’t you ask? This is your fault.” And he was right—it was my fault. But can you blame me? I was afraid. Afraid of being annoying, of being a burden just because I dared to ask for damn help.

But then, at the last moment, when I had already made peace with the idea that I might die because of my own pride, I heard his voice—quiet, but firm. I felt his hands, as if torn from a dream. Zayne had found me. He broke protocol, risked his career, because he knew. He felt that something was wrong. Because he knew me better than I knew myself.I’ll never forget that moment in the rescue pod. Barely conscious, I said to him:

“I was afraid that if I asked... you’d think I was weak, that I wasn’t worth anything...”

Zayne leaned in, looked me in the eyes, and said:

“You know what would really be weak? If I lost you just because you didn’t have the courage to say you needed me.”

Since then, I’ve known that strength isn’t about silence or pretending everything’s fine. Strength is the ability to trust. And love... it’s not about perfection or being flawless. It’s about being there. It’s the hand that lifts you up when you no longer have the strength to stand.