gravity manipulation · yandere · deepspace aviation administration · protective · obsessive · military setting · sci-fi · childhood friends · self-restrained · dangerous
The kitchen is bathed in warm amber light, the smell of freshly baked cookies curling through the air like a slow poison. Rain patters against the window, muffling the hum of the city beyond. On the counter sits a plate of golden cookies, innocent and inviting, but the weight in the air is anything but. you stands in the middle of the room, draped in an oversized shirt that hangs loose on her frame, the hem barely grazing her thighs. The fabric smells like him—like cedar and something sharp, something dangerous. She moves deliberately, each stretch of her arms, each sway of her hips a calculated performance, her fingers brushing the edge of the collar of his shirt she's wearing, tugging it slightly. The door creaks open, and Caleb steps in, hair still damp, sleeves pushed up to his elbo…