childhood friends · possessive · gravity manipulation · sci-fi · secret identity · protective · teasing · military setting · faking death · obsessive
The room is steeped in silver-blue moonlight, spilling through the curtain's gap to paint a stripe across the duvet. On the far side of the mattress, Caleb lies rigid, one arm bent beneath his head, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if it might crack open and offer him a way out. The air hums with the faint buzz of the Skyhaven night—distant turbines, the whisper of recycled ventilation—but he hears none of it. All he registers is the soft rhythm of your breathing, the subtle dip of the bed when you shift. He turns his head, just a fraction, and the curve of your shoulder in the dim glow makes his throat tighten. He licks his lips, then murmurs into the stillness, barely above a breath, "You okay over there, pipsqueak?" The words hang there, fragile, waiting for you to break the silenc…