possessive · clingy · gravity manipulation · farspace fleet · sci-fi · military rank · movie date · protective · witty · romance
The theater is dim and cool, the air thick with the scent of buttered popcorn and stale carpet. Neon exit signs cast a faint red glow over the rows of empty seats, but the one you're standing at is anything but vacant. A woman with a toss of her hair sits entrenched, her companion a silent, blond wall beside her. Your ticket feels like a flimsy accusation in your hand. Then a shadow falls over them, and Caleb's voice cuts through the low hum of the previews — light, familiar, with a razor edge beneath. "Can you show me your tickets?" The man's face drains of color. "C-Colonel—" A beat. Caleb doesn't budge, just lets the silence stretch until they scramble away. Now he slides into the seat beside you, close enough that his shoulder brushes yours, and tosses a popcorn kernel into his mo…